Warm as a cup of cocoa, Dear Jack, Dear Louise tells a love story through letters, as two performers build scenes together without getting to look each other in the eye. It’s their voices that connect. Ken Ludwig based his 2019 play on the courtship of his own parents during World War II. The sho w is sweet but never cloying, making a virtue of simplicity. Shaker Bridge Theatre’s production is a chance to watch the fine miracle of two people amazed to discover each other. The correspondence begins in 1942 when Jack, a doctor, is an Army captain stationed in Oregon to treat the wounded from the Pacific and aspiring actress Louise is auditioning for Broadway roles in New York City. Their parents know each other and suggest the kids might exchange letters. These early missives are as halting and bland as pen-pal attempts, but something keeps them going. With the turmoil of war seeping into every aspect of domestic life, Jack and Louise could use someone to talk to. But they can’t meet face-to-face. Their correspondence has to embody their entire connection, and the stage is split, with Jack in a tidy barracks room on the left and Louise in the vigorous mess of her boardinghouse on the right. Both characters use their patch of stage actively, often taking turns reading what they wrote or received. We watch them read, write and react, and director Bill Coons steers the isolated performers so their work meshes into the beautiful cadence of two people yearning to know each other. Ludwig builds one long conversation from letters to show the rising energy of Jack and Louise’s interest. Sometimes the letters collapse into single-sentence exchanges, as their need to connect becomes urgent. Sometimes the letters are monologues aimed at an audience of one, as their curiosity about each other slowly melts into familiarity. Always, the letters carry a little risk. Will a dash of flirting work? Should I tell the full story? Did I go too far? Not far enough? When two people are falling in love, the medium doesn’t matter. The play is never not a love story, but the epistolary construction makes the character development surprisingly fresh. Ludwig energizes the exchanges by occasionally beginning a letter’s dialogue in the writer’s voice and finishing it in the recipient’s, as if the message sails between them. The audience sees both the author’s intention and the reader’s interpretation. And if losing face-to-face contact limits understanding, it can amplify reactions. When Jack reads that Louise has a plan to meet his large, odd family, it triggers the quiet man to pound his desk and wail, “No, no, no.” To people accustomed to instant digital tools, letters seem quaint and perhaps hopeless as a means to connect. But when two people are falling in love, the medium doesn’t matter. Emotions actually grow clearer as the characters contend with all that makes communication inscrutable. Neither can see the other’s reactions, so they must summon the courage to trust. The feelings may be timeless, but the production uses the music and fashion of the 1940s to place viewers securely in the period. The dreams and manners of the day are endearing in their innocence. Romantic betrayal is possible, but the bounds of decorum are snug, and dancing is pretty much the limit of ecstasy. As Louise, Allie Seibold balances exuberance with flashes of self-doubt. When Louise describes her quest for auditions to Jack, Seibold shows her shining with hope. Her sheer will to succeed is intoxicating. But the path is certainly not easy, so her keen sense of humor helps. Seibold has a special gift for voices, animating the people she describes to make little scenes in her letters. Rustling through her sheet music with starry eyes, Louise can also limp home after losing a part. Seibold gives us a practical dreamer, always worth rooting for. To play Jack, Tommy Crawford adopts a slight, couldn’t-hurt-a-fly physical presence, and even alone with his footlocker and cot, he defaults to polite stillness. His first shy letters make us worry he may not be interesting enough for Louise; maybe not for us, either. But the character grows steadily, like a plant blooming under Louise’s light. Of all things, his heart opens. He’s no romantic poet, but he can quote the young Winston Churchill and admit he has a hero. And when Jack is in jeopardy in Europe, Crawford ticks with fear. Crawford and Seibold achieve exquisite timing in this duet, with Crawford the steady rhythm section and Seibold the wildly riffing soloist. If the premise limits suspense, director Coons pulls viewers into connection with the characters through pace and humor. The play has no grand insights, but it explores love with tenderness. Obstacles are few, and a playwright using his own parents as a template for characters probably can’t help putting the warmest filter on the photo. Unpretentious as the play is, Ludwig creates two gripping people whose heartwarming story has twists and turns on its way to happiness. For a cozy holiday night at the theater, Dear Jack, Dear Louise offers a love story with bright humor instead of schmaltz. We can witness the affection that slowly percolates through a long exchange of letters, seeing what the two separated characters can’t as they loft words across space.  Dear Jack, Dear Louise, by Ken Ludwig, directed by Bill Coons, produced by Shaker Bridge Theatre. Through December 21: Thursdays through Saturdays, 7 p.m.; Saturday, December 13, and Sundays, 2:30 p.m., at Briggs Opera House, White River Junction. $25-45. shakerbridgetheatre.org The original print version of this article was headlined “Signed and Sealed | Theater review: Dear Jack, Dear Louise, Shaker Bridge Theatre” The post Theater Review: ‘Dear Jack, Dear Louise,’ Shaker Bridge Theatre appeared first on Seven Days. ...read more read less