Every time the words “rarely produced” appear next to the title of a play or musical, you have to wonder why. Is it bad? Is it dated? The Happy Time by Kander and Ebb was first performed on Broadway in 1968—hardly the right time or place for a musical about what is meant by family, home, and love. It belongs in an intimate setting where the audience can patiently enjoy the tick-tick-ticking of its perceptive if somewhat repetitive story line and glorious songs. At Signature Theatre, The Happy Time gets what it deserves—a picture-perfect production.

In provincial St. Pierre, Canada, in the 1920s, a multi-generational family welcomes home—but not with open arms—its prodigal son, Jacques (Michael Minarik), a travel photographer who has a vivid imagination and a restlessness that leads to a somewhat dissipated and shallow life. Even though his family sees him as “the wonder man from the great wide world,” Jacques is a disappointment to himself, though he certainly would not let on that he felt that way, especially to his godson/nephew whose by-the-book upbringing he finds objectionable.

“Give him air, give him light,” Jacques pleads. But that does not explain why Jacques comes home to a family he finds confining in a town too staid for his tastes. “Stop pretending,” says his father, played with great élan by David Margulies. “If your life is not what you want it to be,  change it!”

For Jacques, that is easier said than done, especially when he sees his former sweetheart Laurie (Carrie A. Johnson), a teacher in St. Pierre. She could be the antidote to his loneliness, but they see life differently.

The list of what makes The Happy Time so charming is long: the score and the lyrics, of course, but that’s a given in any Kander & Ebb collaboration; the excellent performers—former James Madison University student Michael Minarik has tremendous depth of emotion, and his rich voice is a treat; the sepia-toned production; the setting and costumes, especially Laurie’s dress, which looks like a lace doilie stretched to the max; and most of all, the intimacy of an evening spent learning about a family (and ourselves) in a theater where you can see every nuance of expression and hear every wonderful word.