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An impressive actor and terrific singer, Herbert manages to maintain a strong connection with the audience even while lying on his back mostly in the dark and keeping his Floyd low-key and unhysterical. I was reminded of the movie 127 Hours and James Franco’s character calmly considering sawing his arm off to free himself from the rock trapping him. Cutting off Floyd’s leg is a possibility in the play, but it proves impractical.

The equivalent in Floyd Collins of the 127 Hours flashback scenes are a couple of fantasy / memory sequences where Floyd gets up and cavorts about the stage with Homer and his slightly brain-addled sister and soul-mate Nellie (Krystin Pellerin). These three are the strongest singers in the show. Along with “Skeets” Miller (Andrew Wade), a little newspaperman who manages to crawl down to Floyd and befriend him during his ordeal, they’re also the strongest characters. They get a little lost amid the large ensemble cast of 13, and the show would be better if we got to spend more time with these four.

Nellie is an especially compelling character, and Pellerin–both earthy and other-worldly in long dress and boots, ratty sweater and man’s hat, courtesy of costumer Barbara Clayden–delivers a haunting performance. Her exchange of yodels with Herbert, their voices echoing through the cave like subterranean scatting, is the show’s vocal highlight.

Which brings me to the music. Guettel is the darling of the New Music musical, which tends to be more popular with New York critics than with audiences. Guettel’s score for Floyd Collins combines bluegrass (Nathan Carroll on acoustic guitar and banjo) with difficult diachronic, almost atonal structures derived from the likes of Stravinsky and Bartok (violin, cello, double bass, percussion and the keyboards of musical director Jonathan Monro). It’s unmelodic, enormously hard to sing, but more importantly it’s emotionally unengaging.

Despite the fascinating story and standout performances, the audience doesn’t come away with much. Tina Landau’s book is short on both character development and plot, settling instead for variations on a few themes. And Guettel’s largely banal lyrics don’t compensate for his distancing music. It’s fascinating to imagine what Stephen Sondheim might have made of Floyd’s tale.

Floyd Collins

Where: York Theatre, 639 Commercial Dr.

When: To Mar. 30

Tickets: $19-$41 at tickets.thecultch.com