Ben Blackman and Alli Brown in "Much Ado About Nothing."

photo by Peter Smith Photography

Anton Chekhov famously noted that if you have a gun on a stage, it has to be used before the final curtain.

Apparently, though, a similar rule applies to a water-filled fountain, which is part of the set for the University of Michigan’s new production of William Shakespeare’s “Much Ado About Nothing.” (I won’t ruin one of the show’s funniest moments by divulging details, but let’s just say that the fountain provides one of the high points of this lively, winning staging.)

“Much Ado” begins when military leader Don Pedro (Paul Koch), on the heels of a victory, leads his men to the home of Leonato (U-M theater professor Leigh Woods), the Governor of Messina. Leonato’s young daughter, Hero (Erin Cousins), and soldier Claudio (Philip Maxwell) quickly fall in love, while old sparring partners Beatrice (Alli Brown), who is Leonato’s niece, and soldier Benedick (Ben Blackman) belittle each other while railing generally against love and marriage.

Thanks to plots are hatched by others, however, Claudio grows convinced that Hero has been untrue to him, and Beatrice and Benedick become the cooing lovers they’d previously mocked.

Director John Neville-Andrews sets “Much Ado” in the 1920s, incorporating a few of the era’s musical standards (performed on stage on piano by Jake McClory), flapper hairdos (via Dawn Rivard’s finger waved wigs), and straight-waist dresses (designed by Jessica Hahn). Beatrice — with her cynical, witty remarks, fierce independent streak, and general disregard for convention — certainly seems a natural fit for the period.

And although "Much Ado"'s Claudio can often be a dully earnest soul, Neville-Andrews and Maxwell wisely send up the character by making him the wet-behind-the-ears kid who always tries way too hard — whether the task at hand is an attempt at humor, or a play-show intended to convince Benedick that Beatrice secretly loves him.

Similarly, though the “Much Ado” plot involving master constable Dogberry is my least favorite part of Shakespeare's play — the scenes’ broad comedy, while intended to counter the darkness confronted by all the characters in the second act, always seems a let-down from the more sophisticated humor that precedes it — Neville-Andrews’ inspired inclusion of a Sousaphone (played by Aislinn Frantz as watchman Wisecup) helps the more-forced comic relief go down more easily, as does Neal Kelley’s efforts as Dogberry. (The gets-old-quick silly walk, not so much.)

Nick Strauss, as troublemaker Borachio, does terrific work in a supporting role, and Cousins and Woods are riveting in the play’s darkest, tensest moments. But as always, the reason to pay the price of admission is Beatrice and Benedick, and Brown and Blackman don’t disappoint. Comedically, both get to shine brightest while eavesdropping — in order to hear about the other person’s deep, secret love for the listener — but Blackman is ultimately the production’s most valuable player, making even Beatrice’s demand for Claudio’s death a moment for laughter.

In addition, Rob Murphy lights the show in a delicate, thoughtful, and often beautiful way; Gary Decker’s marvelous set design — from the flower boxes to the sun-faded palazzo’s red roof — provides the actors with a versatile, wonderful playground; and Hahn’s costumes expertly bring the flapper era to life.

There’s one strange moment of staging near the play’s start — wherein three gentlewomen reach around three soldiers (who stand downstage center) and remove their hats and belts (the latter of which caused considerable trouble for one pair on opening night) — but overall, Neville-Andrews and his cast make this nearly three-hour take on "Much Ado About Nothing" an awfully fun ride.

Jenn McKee is the entertainment digital journalist for AnnArbor.com. Reach her at jennmckee@annarbor.com or 734-623-2546, and follow her on Twitter @jennmckee.