You realize which adaptation of Jane Austen’s classic novel Sense and Sensibility has left the strongest impression on you when—in the opening moments of a stage performance—you find yourself thinking, “OK, that’s the Emma Thompson sister, and that’s Kate Winslet.”

Yes, the much-celebrated 1995 film, directed by Ang Lee, casts a long shadow, but Sense & Sensibility: The Musical, now having its Michigan premiere at Dexter’s Encore Theatre, nonetheless offers its unique spin on the material.

With a book, music, and lyrics by Paul Gordon (who also previously adapted Jane Eyre into a Tony-nominated stage musical), Sense streamlines Austen’s world of characters down to the bone, a move that—given the economic and relational complexities of the story—occasionally makes plot turns confusing.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, dear reader, but first, a synopsis.

Sense opens following the death of the Dashwood sisters’ father, leaving the young women in a financially precarious position. Older, “sensible” sister Elinor (Chelsea Packard) and lively, poetry-loving Marianne (Jessica Grové) must now simply go where they’re told, which puts distance between Elinor and a man she deeply admires, her sister-in-law’s awkward but sweet brother Edward (Adam Woolsey), and sends Marianne into the arms of a handsome rake named Willoughby (Chad Marge). Meanwhile, a more mature gentleman, Colonel Brandon (Matt Bogart, also the production’s director), befriends the sisters and develops feelings for Marianne, though she barely notices, so besotted is she with Willoughby.

Though Encore’s Broadway veteran-packed cast, led by music director Leah Fox, performs Gordon’s songs with great skill and feeling, the songs themselves largely feel workmanlike. Indeed, my sense, on opening night, was that the numbers sung by the male characters—specifically Edward and Colonel Brandon—had the most personality and punch, precisely because they provided a crucial window into these buttoned-up men’s interior lives. (Bogart’s deliciously wry, stirring rendition of “Wrong Side of Five and Thirty,” in which the Colonel bemoans being so “old,” is the show’s hands-down musical highlight.) Elinor and Marianne, meanwhile, regularly unpack their feelings with each other, so there’s less sense of revelation in their songs.

Even so, Sense is, at its core, all about the sisters, and Packard and Grové are terrific, conveying both contrast and connection while the Dashwoods gradually absorb each other’s lessons. Regarding the women’s love interests, Woolsey’s Edward is a nervous, emotionally guarded man of principle, and his sweet, vulnerable delivery of “Elinor” early in the show allows us to see Edward through Elinor’s eyes. Marge’s floppy-haired oiliness and too-smooth movements mark him as the perfect seductive cad from the get-go, and Bogart is utterly winning as a haunted, decent older man who can barely bring himself to hope for love.

The action unfolds on Sarah Tanner’s gorgeous, airy, open-gazebo-like set, and Anne Donevan provides all the era-appropriate props. Robert Perry’s lighting design casts a gauzy, romantic spell, and costume designer Marilee Dechart, and wig designer Christine Chupailo, complete the show’s time-travel illusion through their meticulous styling choices.

Yet despite all the talent both on stage and behind the scenes at Encore, Gordon’s chamber musical, which aims to distill Austen’s richly populated, interconnected Sense and Sensibility world down to its most basic romantic elements, strains mightily against the source material’s truncation. For example, when Colonel Brandon arrives to congratulate Marianne on her gossiped-about engagement to Willoughby, we feel as baffled as Elinor by the news, and the confusion’s never quite cleared up. (This also applies to Edward’s puzzling engagement to Lucy Steele, which never gets fully contextualized.) Similarly, Willoughby’s late declaration of true love for Marianne late in the show seems out-of-character and odd, given the brief scenes we’ve witnessed with him. When Marianne falls ill—a key plot point, because Brandon’s care for her during this time softens her toward him—the show loses momentum; and the off-stage means by which Edward finds himself free to love Elinor feel sudden and convoluted.

Such are the risks of translating literature to the stage, of course. Yet despite these narrative hiccups, there’s a lot to love about Encore’s Sense & Sensibility.

The Elinor side of me could spot its flaws, but the Marianne side of me was all too happy to be swept away by its romance and wonderful performances, anyway.

Jenn McKee is a former staff arts reporter for The Ann Arbor News, where she primarily covered theater and film events, and also wrote general features and occasional articles on books and music.

“Sense & Sensibility: The Musical” runs through March 16 at Encore Theatre, 7714 Ann Arbor Street, Dexter. Visit theencoretheatre.org for tickets, showtimes, and more information.