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Too much of a crush on its hero

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Times Staff Writer

A legendary country-western performer succumbs to the plague known as the jukebox musical in the Laguna Playhouse’s current revival of “Hank Williams: Lost Highway.”

This biographical show, written by Randal Myler and Mark Harelik, compiles the singer-songwriter’s greatest hits for an evening of shameless sentimental uplift.

Nothing if not formulaic, “Lost Highway” amounts to a list of biographical bullet points. Born in 1923 in a backwoods Alabama town, Hank Williams (Van Zeiler) grows up dreaming of becoming a singer. His Bible-thumping mother (Margaret Bowman) is suspicious at first but then agrees to become her son’s manager.

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A few successful church performances lead to local concerts. Soon, Williams is touring the South with his own band. It all culminates with an invitation to perform at the Grand Ole Opry.

Most of the play is narrated by the ensemble cast, each actor taking turns relating a different aspect of Williams’ life story. As far as framing devices go, it’s a rather clumsy one and has the effect of embalming Williams in a bathetic nostalgia. It also deprives the protagonist of his own narrative, placing him in a strangely passive role for much of the show.

Absent any strong point of view, “Lost Highway” settles for a mostly airbrushed portrait of Williams that minimizes the dark parts of his life. His debilitating back pain, a condition now attributed to an undiagnosed case of spina bifida, receives a few passing references. More grievously, his battles with alcohol and drugs (which killed him prematurely at age 29) are dealt with only in a handful of scenes near the end.

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“Lost Highway” desperately wants you to like Williams, and that neediness compromises the credibility of the story.

When Williams marries a Southern harpy named Audrey (Regan Southard), her demands to sing solo quickly drive a wedge between the couple. But was their doomed relationship solely her fault? Did Williams, with all of his personal demons, contribute to the disintegration? Maybe, but you wouldn’t know it from this hagiographic account.

Zeiler creates a reasonable facsimile of Williams’ singing style, capably channeling the trademark yodel, the laconic attitude and the boyish charm. He performs more than 20 numbers with an onstage band (Stephen G. Anthony, Myk Watford, Mark Baczynski, Mike Regan and Russ Weaver). Audience members can check off the songs as they come tumbling down the show’s top-hits assembly line -- “Honky Tonk Blues,” “Jambalaya,” “Hey Good Lookin’ ” and “Lost Highway.”

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Physically, Zeiler is all wrong for the part. Even at his healthiest, Williams was alarmingly thin -- a “skeleton,” as one character puts it. By contrast, Zeiler has a football player’s build that borders on husky. Maybe one day he’ll get to star in a biography of Garth Brooks, whose body type he more closely resembles.

The most authentic moments belong to peripheral characters. A truck-stop waitress (Stephanie Cozart) spends much of the play leaning on her counter listening to the radio. Her near-continuous presence succinctly symbolizes Williams’ populist appeal. When he sings, “I’m so lonesome, I could cry,” her barely perceptible sighs make his words seem real.

Equally memorable is the play’s sole African American character, Tee-Tot (Mississippi Charles Bevel), a mentor figure who initially inspired Williams to become a singer. He has only a few spoken lines, but he also remains on stage for much of the show’s duration, a literal reminder of Williams’ humble beginnings. When Tee-Tot insinuates himself, dream-like, into some of the musical numbers, the story takes on a welcome if regrettably brief feel of a memory play.

Hopelessly infatuated with its own protagonist, “Lost Highway” forgets that Williams was a human being before he became an icon. By respectfully enshrining Williams’ legacy, the show ends up honoring only the empty art of impersonation.

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david.ng@latimes.com

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‘Hank Williams: Lost Highway’

Where: Laguna Playhouse, 606 Laguna Canyon Road, Laguna Beach

When: 8 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays; 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays

Ends: Dec. 16

Price: $25 to $65

Contact: (949) 497-2787 or www.lagunaplayhouse.com

Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes

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