I concluded recently that staging The Wizard of Oz, specifically the Royal Shakespeare Company's 1987 version duplicating the 1939 film with the classic Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg songs, was a pointless endeavor. Two productions convinced me: one so strained to copy the film that all I could think about was how much better the film was, and the other departed so much from the film, albeit creatively, that I found myself longing for the film.

Well, it's great to be proven wrong.

Mum Puppettheatre, as one expects, employs puppets (and a terrific ensemble of eight human performers) to strike the ideal balance: We don't forget the film (how could we?), but director Robert Smythe's production is so full of genuine heart (and brains, and courage) that it doesn't suffer in contrast.

The framing Kansas scenes are played straight, but once we burst into technicolor Oz, designer Martina Plag's puppets take over, voiced and manipulated by actors whose faces we see. This clear convention allows the best of both: witness Dave Droxler's fresh, fun singing of "If I Only Had a Brain" along with his impossibly wacky choreography. Aaron Oster's gosh-wow sincerity brings his appropriately stiff Tin Man puppet to life, and Robert Neddoff's bravado fills the theater more than his mangy-maned stuffed lion could alone. Elizabeth Dowd maintains a Margaret Hamilton cackle while swooping her puppet Wicked Witch all over, and Erin Reilly airily voices Glinda the Good Witch while floating her to Dorothy's aid.

Some characters, like Steve Hatzai's endearing Wizard, are played life-sized, while the tiny Munchkins are glove puppets with faces on actors' wrists, allowing their fingers to dance like crazy. My next favorite are the notorious Flying Monkeys, hand puppets that become a chattering, swirling, menacing flock of winged simians.

At the show's center is Jillian Louis's utterly sincere Dorothy. Not only does Louis sing beautifully—her bluesy "Over the Rainbow," accompanied by keyboard and guitar, is heartbreaking, unique and unfettered by affectation—but she interacts earnestly with puppets, often simultaneously manipulating her precocious dog Toto with one hand! Don't try this at home—it's a lot harder than it looks, and already done to perfection.

Designer Jorge Cousineau creates Kansas and Oz neatly on Mum's tiny stage, albeit cheaply—the Emerald City lacks grandeur, and the fearsome Wizard is merely the old flashlight-under-the-chin trick—with quick, clever scene changes.

This Wizard Of Oz re-creates the familiar with reverence while boldly exceeding expectations, and erases the line between adult and children's theater, enchanting all.