Thank the gods, or at least the licensing people: in the new stage version of Beaches, we get to hear The Wind Beneath My Wings. It arrives during Act 2 of this amiable throwback of a musical, and the actress who lands it, Alysha Umphress, presents it to us in a delicate caress, as if it were a family heirloom, to be shown to the assembled guests on special occasions.

Its not the only pleasing musical interlude of this Signature Theatre world premiere, based on Iris Rainer Darts hearts-and-flowers novel, about lifelong bosom buddies who need, needle and nourish each other. Dart who has written the lyrics and co-written the musicals book with Thom Thomas fashions with composer David Austin some frisky uptempo numbers, especially a witty send-up of disco, (Im) All I Need, and a song for the shows stars, Normal People, that recalls the merry backstage brio of movie musicals like Singin in the Rain.

But trying to navigate the storys stormier pathways leads the writers up some muddier alleys, in particular, to a lifeless ballad for Mara Davi, playing Bertie White, doomed pal of Umphresss singing sensation Cee Cee Bloom, that sends us blandly into intermission. And the music for the talented Matthew Scott, in a turn as Cee Cees overshadowed husband, John, disappears from memory almost as rapidly as Gabriel Mangiantes 10-member orchestra strikes it up.

So approach this Beaches with your expectations a tad in check. Be prepared for a few hiccups; be armed with the knowledge that its not quite the five-hanky schmaltz-fest you might be hoping for. (Signature is optimistically selling packs of Beaches tissues at the concession stand.) If you come with the thought that theres a bit of tinkering still to be done, youll find that director Eric Schaeffers production is as comically engaging as this slightly dated material will allow.

Beaches, of course, is a pop-culture artifact as a result of the 1988 movie adaptation that featured Barbara Hershey and Bette Midler as a pair of unlikely best friends, one classy, one brassy, who wash up together in early midlife, clutching each other as they stare into the abyss. The novels accounts of Berties horrible marriage redeemed by the birth of a child and Cee Cees yo-yo-ing career as an entertainer, provide a vigorous framework for a musical, offering patented opportunities for commentary on the pitfalls of show business and a well-deserved microphone for the sultry-voiced Umphress. She grandly takes up the gauntlet from Midler, who turned the films signature love theme, by Jeff Silbar and Larry Henley, into her personal anthem.

Chronicling the good times and bad times in the 1950s through 80s between Cee Cee and Bertie the two characters are portrayed by three sets of actresses at various ages, and all six are excellent the stage version seems primed to carry on Beaches time-honored tradition of allowing the tears to flow freely. So why does the novels unalloyed sentimentality feel underserved here? Though the shows final scene raises a lump in the throat, thanks in part to the endearing portrayal by little Svea Johnson of Berties daughter Nina, the musical as a whole doesnt adequately capitalize on one of Beaches most potent selling points.

Having just read the novel, I wondered how the musical would handle one of Darts most moving passages, a scene in which bitterly estranged Cee Cee and Bertie reconcile at the bedside of Berties dying mother, Rose (Helen Hedman). In the novel, Bertie is stunned to find Cee Cee in the hospital singing a lullaby to the unconscious Rose. What might communicate love and loyalty with more emotionality? The musical merely portrays Cee Cee showing up stalwartly at the hospital after their roaring row, to lend Bertie support. Beaches is one of those properties that feels as if it is not fulfilling its mission unless it goes a little over the top.

Dart and Thomas, with Schaeffers guidance, do a darn good job of propelling an audience through a considerable volume of exposition. In concert with choreographer Dan Knechtges, Schaeffer and the songwriters come up with deftly inventive ways to integrate Little Bertie and Cee Cee into numbers with their older selves. As the littlest embodiments of the main characters, Brooklyn Shuck and Presley Ryan are delightful. But with the exception of Michael Bunce as a Sarasota obstetrician who falls for Cee Cee, the male roles are all rather thankless.

Derek McLanes totemic set high walls made out of desks, bureaus, lamps and tables, interlocking items furnishing two lives is a pleasantly unconventional backdrop, and costume designer Frank Labovitz is in fine form, dressing the high- and low-living Cee Cee in wild 60s paisleys and 70s sequins.

The main event, however, has to be in the electricity that crackles through the central love story, that of two obstinate women drawn inexorably into each others arms. Umphress and Davi are well-matched for ignition to occur (though, come to think of it: how can it be that Bertie has nearly as good a voice as Cee Cee?). One waits with a pack of Beaches tissues at the ready, for the water works to come as readily as do the amusing sparks.

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Signature Theatres Beaches is a tissues-optional performance