Broadway’s ‘Once’ an odd-tasting brew

Bottom line: “Once” is enough.

The musical “Once” — based on the beloved, low-budget independent Irish film by writer/director John Carney — is that oddest of Broadway shows.

A delicately structured song cycle about a man and a woman who are misaligned by the stars but meant to make beautiful music together, it is a gentle romantic comedy about love that is fragile and ephemeral. And it was that very quirkiness, so far removed from the traditional song-and-dance barnburners that are the essence of Broadway, that made it a fresh and endearing contender at the 2012 Tony Awards, where it scooped up eight honors, including best musical.

With music by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová (who starred in the 2007 movie) and a book by Enda Walsh, “Once” has made its way to the Fox Theatre, where it opened Tuesday night with all the pizazz of a glass of Guinness. Depending on one’s personal taste buds, the tale of the downcast Dublin troubadour and the eccentric Czech pianist who plucks him from the dark waters of the soul will either be a taste of ecstasy or a chug of heartburn.

Alas, I’m afraid I fall into the latter category.

Watching this all too often inert and tedious anti-spectacle, I was left to imagine the magic of “Once,” to think how different it might feel in an intimate setting, where its moments of stillness could move rather than sap.

Performed on designer Bob Crowley’s evocative pub of a set, the production features an onstage bar where audience members can quaff drinks before the show or during intermission. The actors double as band members, playing all the music and gliding in and out of the action as necessary. Tuesday’s performance began with a melancholy pre-show number by Raymond Bokhour, who plays the dour father (or Da) of the character called Guy (Stuart Ward).

Beaten down by love, Guy plans to play one last song (“Leave”), then pack up his guitar for good. As it turns out, Girl (Dani de Waal) — a young Czech immigrant who lives with her mother, her young daughter and a bunch of gypsy-roommates who learn English by watching soap operas — overhears his swansong and begs him to go on.

He’s a vacuum cleaner repairman by trade. She just happens to have a Hoover that doesn’t suck. (I’m not making this up.) Surely, they can help each other out.

Such loopy Eastern European shtick (“Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy”) brings a good deal of charm to the story. De Waal’s character, who insists on saying “hello” to the piano, is lovably absurd; she brings Ward’s sad sack Guy out of his funk. When they sing the Oscar-winning song, “Falling Slowly,” the show soars — all too briefly.

As a counterpoint to the depressed, mumbling Irishmen, the Czechs are a funny, ragtag bunch.

Girl’s mother (Donna Garner) wears her red hair in a bun and shares a wise cautionary tale (using the ongoing conceit in which the English text appears in Czech supertitles). Evan Harrington (as Billy, who owns the shop where the band rehearses) is a delightful comic buffoon, especially when his martial arts moves play tricks on him.

Steven Hoggett’s “movement” — a trio of women bopping in headphones, some dancing on and around tables, lots of partnering with instruments — is as quirky as the rest of the material. It’s a shame that director John Tiffany has not prepared this solid, likable company to project their inward moments in a cavernous space like the Fox. (And it should be noted that I was sitting on the fourth row.)

The results are a show that too often feels lifeless and threatens to evaporate before our very eyes. See this “Once” perhaps. But never twice.