The production at The Actors' Group sounds awfully familiar, but it isn't the "Our Town" we might remember.

Since its debut in 1938, this American classic by Thornton Wilder has been marked by a distinctive production style of studied simplicity that underscores the playwright's aim of elevating the ordinariness of daily life.

The play celebrates small-town values with its presentational approach, bare stage, and pantomimed props. Anyone who has seen George and Emily on stepladders, and a cemetery filled with black umbrellas, will always remember those images.

So David Schaeffer, the production's principal director, took a big initial risk in staging the play on TAG's tiny stage, which denies it the sense of place necessary to create the small town of Grover's Corners in our imagination.

He cuts the original cast of more than 20 to only eight actors, five of whom play multiple parts. He eliminates altogether the pivotal role of Stage Manager, replacing it — story-theater style — with split narration shared by everyone in the cast.

Those choices seriously diminish the scope of the play and dilute much of its power. The sense behind the dialogue comes through but without the satisfying experience of ritual that has become so associated with the play.

Schaeffer compounds the production problems with self-indulgent staging — not one, but two — preludes. First, the cast delivers Shakespeare's "O for a Muse of Fire" from "Henry V," then launches into a narrative history of the play. The effect is to delay the opening lines and to annoy the audience with material that would be better placed in program notes.

Adding several hymns to the dialogue is less distracting, but tacking on a Schubert lullaby to the finale is much less successful than letting the Stage Manager simply end the play with the disarming line, "You get a good rest, too. Good night."

While directors should have the artistic freedom to try new things and deviate from traditional approaches, they are ultimately accountable to their audiences to deliver a result that works. And Schaeffer's creation of a new ritual with invocation, postlude, hymns and shared narration is less satisfying than the playwright's intended staging.

Secondary director credit for fine tuning goes to Betty Burdick, who took over the last two weeks of rehearsals while Schaeffer concentrated on his roles as Mr. Webb, Howie Newsome, and Joe Stoddard.

Within the overall context, the characters are generally delivered well. Frankie Enos and Carlynn Wolfe are the stoic housewives, Schaeffer is a convincing milkman, and Gerald Altwies packs 20 years of marital understanding into the phrase, "Why, Julia Hersey! French toast!" Jim Hesse does a convincing physical turn as the alcoholic organist, Simon Stimson.

As the youngsters George and Emily, Savada Gilmore is a bit too exaggerated and Vivian Hignite a bit too studied. This drains real poignancy from their scenes.

Ultimately, the production fails to distract us from the cramped seats and lack of air conditioning — a reminder that TAG can simultaneously be the most provocative and the most uncomfortable theater in town.