SRO tries to do too much with ambitious production

SRO Theatre Company’s ambitious production of “Titanic: The Musical” achieves some dignity and grace but is too often sunk by sound problems.

The Tony-winning musical, which opened Friday at the Columbus Performing Arts Center, pays tribute to those who lived and died on the fated “ship of dreams.”

Director Kristofer Green aims for the church-hymnal reverence in composerlyricist Maury Yeston and author Peter Stone’s choral saga of aspiration, arrogance and courage in extremity.

Although the epic musical seems ripe for minimalism and greater intimacy, Green’s efforts are mixed to squeeze a 27-member ensemble and a 12-member orchestra into the center’s smaller Van Fleet Theatre.

The ship doesn’t hit the iceberg until the end of the first act, but SRO’s fated production begins sending out loud SOS signals almost from the start: The orchestra, filling bleachers at one side of the wide stage, tended to drown out many lyrics at the Thursday preview. (A scaleddown orchestra might have worked better.)

After intermission, though, the production achieves a better balance between instrument-playing and singing. Especially in rare moments when many performers sing the same words, their cumulative harmonies achieve sublime clarity.

When given opportunities to shine, many do.

Among the most vivid: Jesse Daniel Trieger as manly stoker Frederick Barrett; Nick van Atta as valiant radio operator Harold Bride; Keith Robinson as the dutiful Captain; and Kristen Basore, Grace Rinehart and Kara Hancock as plucky third-class Kates.

Brandon Maldonado projects flawed nobility as architect Thomas Andrews, who welcomes everyone aboard in the solemn opening aria “In Every Age.”

Paul Lee and Wendy Cohen prove touching as devoted elderly couple Isidor and Ida Straus.

The somber drama is rarely relieved by humor, but Ciera Bierbaugh’s second-class Alice Beane is amusing in her wide-eyed social climbing.

Although the scant scenic design on multileveled platforms might leave too much to the imagination, Patrick Bryant’s period costumes convey class distinctions with muted eloquence.