Mary Ernster, Christopher Kelley, Sean Donovan, Andre Malcolm, J. Harrison Ghee, DeMarius R. Copes, Jarvis B. Manning Jr., and Wes Olivier Photo by Liz Lauren

The tonal inconsistency of the show overall plays out in the staging, to a certain extent. In terms of the set (designed by Christopher Oram), the Spanish moss–festooned proscenium captures the feel of the deep South, and the nearly omnipresent stone angels certainly lend a certain darkness to the proceedings, particularly in conjunction with the lighting design by Neil Austin and Jamie Platt and the subtle but effective sound design by Jon Weston. But the use of photorealistic backdrops (which are admittedly beautiful) tugs at these more over-the-top, operatic elements.

There are also some unusual inconsistencies of scale that are distracting at times. The facade of the Mercer house, for example, is effective when it is pushed all the way upstage to suggest that characters are outside and seeing the house from a distance. But early on, the flat is pushed quite a bit downstage, making it seem jarringly smaller, which delivers a blow to what is supposed to be an imposing edifice. On balance, the set is attractive, and many of its elements function well, but like the show itself, there's something slightly disjointed about it.

In approaching the costume design, Toni-Leslie James clearly did not struggle with vision. She goes gloriously all-in with an exaggerated '80s aesthetic ranging from a socialite in neon green, puff-sleeved, peplum suit with a black tracksuit stripe running down the sides of the skirt to the fascinatingly hideous cocktail dress a young woman with a trust fund might choose as a protest against celebrating Christmas on the spot where her one-time lover was killed. And, of course, everything about the wardrobe for The Lady Chablis is perfect. Complementing James's spectacular vision is the equally over-the-top (and equally wonderful) wig and hair design by Matthew Armentrout.

The adaptation seems to want to honor Berendt's view that Savannah is full of characters worth telling stories about. The show includes the "voodoo priestess" Minerva and the macabre Luther Driggers, but doesn't seem to know quite what to do with them a lot of the time. Many of the potshots the book takes at the South are overly broad, which has the unfortunate effect of undermining the effective ways in which the story is grappling with racism, gentrification, homophobia, and so on. Perhaps most important (at least in terms of the show's narrative success), despite the fact that the story theoretically revolves around the murder of Danny Hansford, the conflict leading up to the event itself feels quite manufactured, and it seems to have little (or at least not particularly convincing) impact on the events in the second act.

As a musical, the show is curious. The songs are fairly uneven in quality and interest, and yet even the weaker, more forgettable among them has striking moments. The writing for the Jim Williams character, for example, appears at first as though it will dwell in the grand tradition of sing-talking for older male characters, but many of Jim's songs blossom into beautiful, almost operatic tenor melodies. Similarly, the music written for Emma Dawes and her cadre of society ladies stands out from decades of work that has space only for belting and young voices. Music director Thomas Murray conducts a 12-person orchestra that executes the disparate elements of the music well, from jazzy trumpet and sax to percussion that does strive to inject some of the intended mysterious and supernatural feel that the on-stage action tends to neglect.

In terms of performances, it is important to note that they are so good across the board that they redeem a lot of the weak material. As Jim Williams, Tom Hewitt's voice is varied and constantly surprising as he moves with ease from gruff, snarling bravado to heartfelt reflections on loneliness and longing. The character of Williams may not be consistently or strongly written, but Hewitt often makes the audience forget this.

Early on in the show, The Lady Chablis tells both Williams and the audience that she intends to steal the story. J. Harrison Ghee unquestioningly and unfailingly makes good on this promise. Their voice is soul-stirring and expressive, their comedic timing is impeccable, and they can clearly make a room filled with nine hundred people cry at will. Their rapport with Wes Olivier, who is equally tremendous as Jack the One-Eyed Jill, is show-stealing in itself.

As Emma Dawes, Jim's primary nemesis, Sierra Boggess is excellent in an unexpected take on the character. Rather than playing Emma as low-key cutting in the way of stereotypical Southern socialites, Boggess gives her Emma a desperate, aggressive edge that works well with the music (which she knocks out of the park) and sets up a genuinely interesting dynamic among the women in her most tight-knit social circle. McKinley Carter (Vera Strong), Mary Ernster (Serena Barnes), and Jessica Molaskey (Alma Knox Carter) play particularly well off Boggess and off one another, elevating something that could have lapsed into a well-worn set of character subtypes that are funny, perhaps, but not especially novel or nuanced.

Although both Bailee Endebrock (Corrine Strong) and Shanel Bailey (Lavella Cole) are clearly talented actors and singers, their characters are rather underwritten. For Endebrock, this results in one fairly repetitive (and narratively suspect) song about not wanting to get serious with Danny. Bailey gets a fun song, but one that ends up conveying a rather pat, tone-deaf message to rapidly develop Lavella's character, which the show almost entirely neglects otherwise.

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil has been extended through August 11, 2024, at the Goodman, Albert Theatre, 170 N. Dearborn, Chicago IL. For tickets and information, please visit GoodmanTheatre.org or call 312-443-3800.