From the start, I expected I was in for something special, with a voice issuing a clever warning to turn off our cell phones, a persuasive program essay and a free-form poem about how to behave in the theater. This witty, literate approach promised well for one of the most witty of musicals, Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine's gorgeous post-modern fairy tale, "Into the Woods."

And my expectation was met. I'd tell you to go see Hampton High School's spring musical, but unfortunately it played only last weekend. If there's any justice, it will be on the Benedum Center stage May 24, competing for some Gene Kelly Awards.

"Into the Woods" has to be hard for high schools, given the sophistication of its humor, the fractured nature of its demanding, splintered (but beautiful and melodic) score, the contrast between its two acts and the fact that it's pretty much all leads with hardly any ensemble.

As to that wit and the creators' playful way of riffing on well-known fairy tales, you could say that "Into the Woods" is almost too good for its audience. If that's condescending, let's say that it's such a surprise to meet such an adult take on fairy tales that it takes an audience a while to warm up to the tongue-in-cheek wit.

This is the kind of show where you hear scattered laughter and realize you're missing something. I could hear the audience slowly warm up and discover there was something very clever going on.

But just then, in Act 2, the show turns newly somber. We're now in a post-apocalyptic world, well past "happily ever after": the characters turn against their story teller in anger, throwing off the comfort of the predetermined text. So the audience also has to switch for an intense parable of loss and interdependence. I had tears in my eyes -- when does a high school musical do that?

This is no "Annie" or "Hello, Dolly." Of course, any good musical comedy has a serious heart, but "Into the Woods" is dazzling in spinning fairy-tale gold and moral parable at the same time. Isn't that what the original Brothers Grimm tales do?

Hampton has the advantage of an auditorium smaller than the usual arena, with a curved, thrusting stage. Director Dan Franklin knows also to use the aisles and front-stage space. His and producer Andrew Halter's impressive set featured big moveable books, which opened to create interiors that frame the central stories, Cinderella, Jack and the Beanstalk and Red Riding Hood, who visits a childless Baker and His Wife (an invention).

Beyond is the magical forest where most of the musical takes place. Other handsome set pieces (I understand they started building the set last summer) moved quickly in and out, thanks to a stage crew dressed as garden gnomes, rushing in full view to keep the story plunging along.

Tying these stories and others together are Red and the search by the Baker and his Wife for three items the Witch demands to relieve their barrenness. The tone is comic with disturbing currents: Rapunzel is seriously unbalanced by her ordeal and something gamey is going on between Red and her Wolf. Her song about what she's learned is all about a young woman on the verge of maturity.

In Act 2, death enters. In the absence of the narrator, new alliances form. The play ends in sacrifice and a tentative hope for the survivors to move gingerly forward to the theme of the Witch's haunting song, "No One Is Alone."

Wit is everywhere, even in the rhymes-- witness palace-malice, stairs-cares-unawares and clue-slew-do-stew-goo-knew, all (and more) from Cinderella's song about the ball. There's also a hailstorm of pseudo aphorisms, some wise ("the prettier the flower, the farther from the path"), some funny ("slotted spoons don't hold much soup").

The fabulous Witch was played with clarity and authority by Melanie Thomas, with deadpan naturalness and a dusky touch in her voice. Maddie Georgi's Red was her equal, with quirky humor and fine vocals, and Lindsay Montgomery found the interesting ambivalence in Cinderella.

Steve Benton was a perpetually bewildered Jack, Dan Petrovich an earnest Baker and Rachel Perry his wry wife, though none had the best vocal ability. Domenic Jungling and Dylan Morris were funny as the philandering Princes, and Chelsea Waldo's Old Lady Narrator worked hard, surrounded by some unscripted middle school children -- Hampton nurturing its theatrical farm system.

To supply an ensemble, Hampton added a chorus of 18 (all with arboreal names) and a dance troupe of 10 (flowers), inserted where appropriate by choreographer Stacy Biggs.

Aside from a few iffy voices, the only real flaw was the mic work. On opening night, too many were turned on too late.

The crowning glory was the fine student orchestra (with just one adult) led by Heather Heere. Now in the 11th year of the same artistic leadership, the Hampton musical knows what it's doing. This one was special.