[title of review]: “[title of show]," at the Black Box Theatre through July 15

Musicians compose on-the-road songs. Comedians are frequent fliers, and riff on air travel. Show people make shows about shows – you've probably seen a few. The Black Box Theatre's [title of show], with music and lyrics by Jeff Bowen and book by Hunter Bell, was first staged in 2004. Directors Noah Hill and Rebecca Casad, and music directors Ryan J. Hurdle and Katie Griswold, make this smooth production – which boasts ample vulgar language – more delightful and engaging than my already-high hopes anticipated.

So. Two guys impulsively create a musical for a theatre festival. Having only three weeks to come up with a plot, write, and rehearse, they decide to make their show about two guys who impulsively create a musical for a theatre festival. This premise is appealing. However, I was apprehensive that the execution might involve too much cutesy-wutesy talking to, or about, the audience. Breaking that fourth wall, acknowledging the artifice between doers and observers, can be effective, but it's best used sparingly. I was pleased that [title of show]'s script doesn't go there. Instead, the performers break character to debate their theatrical options as they develop the show – and all these asides are in the script, because it documents its own creation. Also, it's not a show-within-a- show in the manner of Noises Off. It's a show that is a show. (The cast make this much clearer than I can.)

The musical's character creators Jeff and Hunter (check my first paragraph for [title of show]'s actual creators) are best friends. In this particular production, their ease together benefits from real-life authenticity, given that their avatars, Hurdle and Hill, have worked together frequently. Hurdle played the title role in The SpongeBob Musical last month, which Hill directed, and they were protagonist and antagonist, respectively, in last summer's Tuck Everlasting (both at the Spotlight Theatre).

Hurdle's Jeff is a bit tightly wound, sometimes morose, but grounds his friends and keeps them on task. (Meta alert! Hurdle writes musicals in real life.) Hill plays Hunter, apt to throw all the noodles at the wall and use the ones that don't stick. (Hill also designed the lighting.) Casad portrays Susan, the least comfortable with musicals, but the most game, up-for-anything cast member, who could field any wild throw. Griswold plays Heidi, a professional trouper who's made it to Broadway, but hasn't "made it" on the scale she'd hoped, so she agrees to play a role in this festival endeavor.

These performers are just so damn good at everything. This is a tough script, and could've become a vast, bland melee – but every line and move is a precision strike. I'd already enjoyed Casad's, Hill's, and Hurdle's performances on a big stage, at a distance. They are just as good at subtle acting in the intimate Black Box, in which you can see every eyebrow lift and lip twitch. Griswold has music-directed several fine productions, but this is the first time I've seen her act. And while I don't want to deprive future singers of her expertise, I want to see her onstage again! In fact, I want to see all four of these folks together again, doing anything! A concert version of Chess? Tag-teaming Greater Tuna or Love Letters, perhaps? Meta alert! Did you notice that these four performers are also [title of show]'s directors, too, in real life? How cool is that?

There's a fifth talented performer: Augustana College piano professor Rob Elfline as their accompanist Nick. Stage musicians are typically invisible to cast and audience, so it's fun (and touching) when Nick, heretofore ignored, is thrilled when Jeff acknowledges him. (Peek at Elfline once in awhile, because he's acting as well as playing.) I, in turn, must acknowledge three truly invisible folks. Stage manager and board operator Jacob Johnson, like everyone else here, has assumed many theatrical responsibilities, on- and off-stage. The dependable Michael Kopriva constructed the set, which was designed by the dedicated Lora Adams, the venue's co-founder.

It's refreshing that there are no tortured deep dives into the wretchedness of poverty, no family drama, and no romantic entanglements (despite one throwaway bit that was obviously just a joke). Those miseries are swell for creating conflict, but this script wisely focuses on Creating a Show. The characters' path in [title of show] mirrors the real-life one – its creators progressed from festival to small time to big time. I chuckle, thinking of all the rewrites.

You can be innocent about show biz and still appreciate this stage parade, but they toss cascades of little goodies for theatre buffs to gather and gobble up, including not only references to Broadway shows, but also woes common to all actors, whether in NYC or the QC. [title of show] is the ultimate embodiment of "Hey, gang – let's put on a show!" And get there early to enjoy the premise-reinforcing verisimilitude of the actors' off-the-cuff, offstage preshow chatter. Meta alert! I envision a twist: A theatre reviewer makes commentary throughout the production, and the actors respond real-time. I know somebody who could kill that role. [clears throat meaningfully]

[title of show] runs at the Black Box Theatre (1623 Fifth Avenue, Moline IL) through July 15, and more information and tickets are available by calling (563)284-2350 and visiting TheBlackBoxTheatre.com.