In recent years, the most popular fairy tales of our youth have become fractured. Unexpectedly complex characters, like the reflective and philosophical witches of “Wicked” or even the computer-animated ogres of “Shrek,” often warp the traditional once-upon-a-time ideal to reach a conditional, complicated “happily ever after” in modern updates of classic fables.

That was not the case in this weekend’s musical adaptation of “Rapunzel” in the Adams House Pool Theater, directed and composed by Rachel M. Williams ’07 and produced by Shane Donovan ’09. Instead, the play’s appeal was in its conventionality: Rather than attempting to rethink a classic story, its cast and crew opted simply to present it as cleanly and beautifully as possible, and succeeded admirably.

The musical’s lyrics and its script were well matched. Written, respectively, by Williams and her high school friend Debrenée Adkisson, they formed a narrative which was funny at some points and moving at others. Though their interpretation was occasionally clichéd, Willaims and Adkisson gave the play a lighthearted feel that reminded me of what a fairy tale is supposed to be: familiar, whimsical, and fun.

“Rapunzel,” based on the familiar story told by the Brothers Grimm, begins by introducing the dysfunctional married couple of Martinius (Silas P. Howland ’08) and Isadora (Dorothy Eagle). Isadora craves a rare spice, and Martinius must steal it from a witch who lives next door (as related by several musical numbers). In exchange for the spice, this witch—played marvelously by Karol W. Malik ’08—forces Martinius to give up his firstborn, who grows up to be the sweet-voiced Rapunzel (Caroline A. Jennings ’09). Rapunzel is locked in a tower that can only be accessed by climbing her hair, a prince (Firth M. McEachern ’08) arrives and becomes determined to free her, and the rest is fairy-tale history.

Set designer Juliette C. McClendon ’09 created a uniquely appealing staging for “Rapunzel.” The Adams House Pool Theater provided just the right venue for the performance, as the staircase descending from the main entrance made a perfect tower for Rapunzel. Since the tower was behind the theater’s seating and most of the action, the audience was often surrounded by actors harmonizing both behind and in front of them; every journey to Rapunzel’s tower took the characters straight through the crowd.

Throughout the show, song after song made music out of every possible plot element: town bustle, manly camaraderie, and failure as a father were just a few of the individual songs’ themes. On the whole, the music is well written, and although the harmonies occasionally faltered on opening night, Jennings lived up to the reputation of Rapunzel, sweetly serenading the audience from her perch at the back of the room.

The characters were exaggerated to stereotypical extremes, but where a few—like worry-stricken Martinius—were glaringly overacted, others were more skilfully caricatured. McEachern, for instance, conveyed the grief and lovesickness of his Prince Roderick with hilarious whimsy, and much of the play exuded a melodramatic mood only appropriate in fairy tales.

Malik shone in drag as Dagmar, a stock “witch next door” character who brews a bubbling cauldron and cackles frequently. As Malik sang about his character’s “notion for a potion,” three giggling spirits floated around him, playing up the classic witch’s den scene repeatedly and effectively.

As is the case in many fairy tales, the characters tended not to act rationally, and some plot details were overlooked: Prince Roderick climbed in and out of Rapunzel’s tower without bothering to use her rope of hair, and when the maiden escaped her stairless perch, she simply walked down the stairs without any explanation.

Even if the jokes weren’t all intentional, the play was amusing for its familiarity—and the more tired elements of the plot were clichéd only because they’ve been emulated and repeated so many times since the days of the Brothers Grimm. “Rapunzel” successfully resurrected the straight-faced performance of a classic fairy tale: oversimplified and well worn, but good-natured and engaging.