KALAMAZOO, Mich. – In her program notes for Farmers Alley’s current production of 1776, Director Kathy Mulay suggests the shocking revolution we’re experiencing in today’s political climate is not dissimilar to how things were during the Second Continental Congress.

The New York Times, describing the Broadway revival of the 1969 Tony-Award-winning musical earlier this year, echoed a similar interpretation: “1776” can sometimes feel like C-Span set to music.”

Mulay ran with this idea by marrying the present with the past. The show opens with a wall of projected televisions displaying truculent political candidates and pundits spewing venomous discourse.

One voice declares “We are facing our darkest days in history.”  Then, as if to dispute that claim, an image montage starting with the war on terror and images of the twin towers toppling through nearly two and a half decades of fairly consistent revolution and war, murders of great men, hard-earned rights, and economic collapse leads to the beginning of the United States of America—in May of 1776, in a very hot room on Chestnut street in Philadelphia, where an impassioned John Adams is fed up with a deeply divided Congress.

Every choice in this production is deliberate and meticulous. Not only does Mulay direct; she also choreographed functional movement and designed elegant costumes for this production designed to have a greater impact than that of a simple history lesson with a little song and dance. And despite the fact that 1776 doesn’t have the energy or ingenuity of Hamilton, this production makes a bunch of white guys distinct, and draws on their cultural differences that make make vivid how close this story came to never being written.

Concept is nothing without the right cast, and Mulay put together a terrific cast (save for one utterly wooden performance, an unfortunate result of nepotistic casting).

Adams, accused by his fellow Congressmen as a “Boston radical,” “demagogue,” “incendiary little man,” “madman” and “obnoxious and unliked,” is the truly likable protagonist, captured perfectly by Peter Riopelle. Among a full cast of 22 other colonial delegates, white guys dressed in long jackets, Riopelle has a distinctive look, energy, and voice. His Boston accent hits the mark with subtlety, and a mildly elitist air makes his righteous pleas more emphatic.

He’s also a lovely singer, most notable in his duets with the warm soprano of Denene Mulay Koch as a sympathetic Abigail Adams, who remains home tending the children and family farm in Massachusetts. Their relationship comes to light through their letters with simple staging and movable panels covered in text.

Paul Hopper is an amiable, jocular Benjamin Franklin, an excellent comedic foil to Adams, though he physically doesn’t quite fit the role. Josh White is a particularly lively and sweet-voiced Richard Henry Lee; Ryan Dooley plays Thomas Jefferson with easy aplomb and a lovely tenor; Jeremy Koch is an impressively insufferable John Dickinson and his “Cool, Cool, Considerate Men,” an homage to conservatism, is chilling—the effect aided by Lanford J. Potts’ lighting design; and John B Leen’s “Molasses to Rum,” as a commanding Edward Rutledge is a terrifying show stopper.

For a musical with longevity, its songs are enjoyable yet forgettable. However, Music Director Marie McColley Kerstetter directs an excellent live orchestra and draws out marvelous performances from talented singers.

The talent is pretty much all around. Performances are solid; the concept is clear and executed with excellence; and even though the timing and blocking are quick, there are inevitable lulls in a script that though balanced with both humor and high drama, focuses largely on a slow-moving group of tired politicians. As Adams puts it, “I have come to the conclusion that one useless man is called a disgrace; that two are called a law firm; and that three or more become a Congress.”

And of course, there’s no spoiler alert necessary. We all know how the story ends: with the Declaration of Independence and the birth of our nation. Yet it’s more than a little thrilling to spend three hours in that tension-filled room with enormous characters and stakes that can hardly get any higher.

1776 at Farmers Alley is ultimately a feel-good political musical despite its nods to ugly realities. It’s hard to walk out of the theater without feeling a little more patriotic, a little more hopeful, maybe even a little more excited to vote come November–and that our collective past is still very much at work in the present, for better and for worse.

Click here for show days, times and details.