Although I can't say from experience, it seems like this final installment in the Williamston Theatre's Voices From the Midwest trilogy must be the broadest and the most diverse. From the concept by Artistic Director Tony Caselli, the previous shows explored the voices of women and then of men, but the notion of family — with its infinite variations in makeup and experience — is a challenge all its own. In Home: Voices From Families of the Midwest, writers Annie Martin and Suzi Regan (who also directs) draw from interviews and survey responses from a few dozen collaborators to present a mixed bag of styles and tones, swirling together the universal and the unique.

The show eases in with a handful of nuclear families taking part in classic activities: fighting over use of the bathroom, taking the dreaded family photo, tiptoeing around a painfully awkward sex talk. Many of the early scenes are notable for their complete dearth of cynicism; even the newly single mother on a cathartic drive to escape her former life sings with abundant positivity. Regan gives each of these disparate scenarios an energy fitting to its presentation, making scenes with a sketch-comedy sensibility feel at home next to the mournful stillness of a folk-inspired song. The overall composition of the two-hour production is exceptional, enveloping viewers in the sweetness and nostalgia they'll need to weather tougher times. As the focus radiates out into less-ubiquitous family units and highly specific characters and interactions, the emotions deepen, and the connection with the material intensifies. Elements of comedy and drama complement each other well, and the success of this script is in making both feel equally vital to the work.

The ensemble cast of Sandra Birch, Hazen Cuyler, John Lepard, and Maggie Meyer changes tone in a flash, consistently tapping into wells of ebullience and gravity. Each actor shows range by playing a variety of ages and relationships: Cuyler and Meyer, the younger of the ensemble, are not simply relegated to Son and Daughter status, bringing happy uncertainty to a couple deciding to start a family and surprising depth to a babysitter whose charge talks of his dying father without comprehension. Among my favorite scenes were the slice-of-life portrayals of siblings simultaneously eager and uneasy for the brother's imminent return from Afghanistan, and of the mother explaining her inability to accept her son's homosexuality to his startled partner with bitter, scorching honesty.

Although family is at the center of the production, the concept of home itself is given its own reverence. Lepard is touching as a retiring teacher whose real home is the classroom he is about to give up, and Birch plays a character reluctant to leave the place that holds her family's history and memories. Indeed, it is easy to find the appeal in Daniel C. Walker's dollhouse-like set, which is repeatedly filled with smells of home, from Febreze to fresh cookies to sautéed vegetables. The set also provides a convincing argument that every tree house would be improved by the addition of a college student and his guitar (Nicholas Hinz, who sagely provides accompaniment, narration, and one powerfully raw solo). Costumes by Amber Marisa Cook play with neutrals and accents, sometimes defining a character but just as often letting the vignettes speak for themselves.

The production boasts a number of original songs and lush harmonies, but still feels more like a play than a musical: Regan clearly chooses acting over singing, so that the performers' decent voices sometimes waver or break with emotion. Viewers may note a certain amount of hegemony at work (little variation in ethnic and socioeconomic background can start to feel like Voices From Upper Middle Class Whites of the Midwest), but the production is intended to be an evocative representation, not a census report. Martin, Regan, and this fine cast explore the themes common across families, both the events that draw them together and the myriad reasons why they can't stand each other, as well as diving in to a few less-familiar events that resonate nonetheless. Home is as jumbled and complex as every family, but with a strong undercurrent of familiarity that should speak to any audience.