The symbols of the theater are the masks of comedy and tragedy, laughter and pathos. The fine line between the two is indistinct. How often have we heard, “that would be laughable if it were not so sad”?

Lewiston-Auburn Community Little Theatre’s current production explores that fine line as it boldly and fearlessly tackles a play charged with provocative, stimulating and uninhibited messages. Its presentation of “Spring Awakening” takes on the intense themes of verbal, physical, and sexual abuse, mental illness, abortion, suicide and more, but does so with appropriate and utmost poignancy, passion and expressiveness.

The 1891 play by German playwright Frank Wedekind was among the most censored works in theater for decades due to how it depicts its difficult subject matter. Wedekind’s play can be seen as a take on Shakespeare’s classic “Romeo and Juliet.” But to make this heavier star-crossed lover storyline more publicly palatable, this adaption of “Spring Awakening,” which ran on Broadway for more than two years, adds a pop/rock book and lyrics by Steven Sater, music by Duncan Sheik. Think a darker “West Side Story” or “Grease.” The teenage angst, conflicted emotions and portrayals here are heightened and honed so they cannot be misinterpreted. These messages are deliberate entendres; no double meaning is intended. This is an instructive play clear eyed in its point.

The early 20th-century theater practitioner, playwright and poet Bertolt Brecht developed a radical and experimental form of modernist theatre: the Lehrstücke or learning play. Its core principle is to explore the possibilities of learning or teaching through theater and acting — playing roles, posturing and taking attitudes. His epic technique was not to encourage audiences to suspend their disbelief, but rather to force them to see their world as it is. Brecht said it best in his poem:

He who only imitates and has nothing to say
On what he imitates is like
A poor chimpanzee, who imitates his trainer’s smoking
And does not smoke while doing so. For never
Will a thoughtless imitation
Be a real imitation.

In “Spring Awakening,” CLT director/choreographer Becca Tinkham and assistant director Sophia Wood have assembled a stunningly talented cast who bring to the stage the energy, atmosphere and quality this unique play demands. A fast-paced string of loosely related scenes disclose the story.

In the process, music and vocal director Paul Caron amplifies the wonderful and astonishingly indecorous songs that give juice to the scenes. The live orchestra’s offerings range from hauntingly spare guitar backing of such powerful pieces as “Mama Who Bore Me” and “The Word of Your Body” to full rock opera renditions of rollickingly risqué songs like “My Junk” and the knockout “Totally F***ed.” Every song in the production is enhanced by the contributions of its 13 wonderful actors. Their voices and the emotions pouring from their performances deliver them with impressive conviction.

Savage Bloomer as Melchior and Julia Badaraco as Wendla are silver-screen perfect as the young lovers as they move through their angst-filled teenage years before our eyes and ears. Their voices are strong and pure, blending seamlessly and with convincing honesty.

As the play opens, Wendla is naïve and confused about her awakening sexuality and seeks, unsatisfyingly, answers from her reluctant and withholding mother.  Melchior is a radical student who dares to challenge authority and think for himself. He writes in his journal “To my mind Shame is nothing but a product of Education. Meanwhile, old Father Kaulbach still blindly insists, in every single sermon, that it’s deeply rooted in our sinful Human Nature. Which is why I now refuse to go to Church.” Later, Melchior’s journal will prove fateful in his clash with authority over where lies presumed guilt and responsibility.

As Melchior and Wendla become closer through the ensuing couple years, they reveal themselves to one another in tender and even shameful moments.

Abram Dwyer as Moritz Stiefel is outstanding as the struggling and hardworking student whose fitful dreams are visited by succubi, distracting him from his studies and foreshadowing his failure to achieve passing grades. His is one more singularly marvelous voice adding to the splendid strengths of this entire cast. His failure to pass, disturbingly hinted at as a numerical decision by school administrators, becomes a shame to his parents and a reason for psychological and physical punishment from Moritz’s father.

Mikayla Jane as Martha and Mackenzie Richard as Ilse have spotlight moments and solo performances that are fine pieces of acting and rarified vocals as young girls who share and comfort one another through the trials of adolescence and conflicting messages they receive.

Bluee Brewster as Hanschen and Anthony Delorme as Ernst bring one more side of conflicted emotions and desires into focus in a warm, funny and moving vignette. Again, strong vocals and acting resonate with candor and empathy.

Archer Slater as Georg, Megan Walz as Anna, Edward Angelo as Otto and Ansley Watson as Thea complete the talented throng of young performers whose voices, acting and athletic dance skills are a wonder to behold.

Of course, teen angst, conflicting messages and authoritarian repression require adults. Brilliantly, this play represents what Melchior describes as a “parentocracy” using two fine actors, Elise Christie in the role of Adult Woman and Jason Pelletier as Adult Man. The two portray the entirety of that category: parents, school administrators, clergy, and physicians who collectively bedevil the teens are they seek answers to their jumbled emotions, questions and beliefs. That the adults all have the same faces intimates that society designs to impede the necessary communication, understanding and compassion to guide youth through the tumultuous period of growing up and surviving.

In the darkest moments of the play, Ilse comes upon Moritz as he is contemplating his own demise. Moritz has just sung “Don’t Do Sadness.” The two or three years that have passed bring about a nostalgic conversation that leads to Ilse’s “Blue Wind” solo, then a weaving of the two songs “Don’t Do Sadness/Blue Wind.” Ilse tries to cajole Moritz to walk her home. He begs off and completes his original unthinkable plan.

The subsequent funeral scene is powerful as the ensemble cast sings “The Guilty Ones” and one by one drop a flower on Moritz’s grave. The riveting gaze each directs at Moritz’s father is both chilling and telling. Yet Melchior, the last to drop a flower, places a consoling hand on the shoulder of Moritz’s father, who drops to his knees in grief.

The school administrators, fearful their institution may be perceived as afflicted with epidemic adolescent suicide, seek a scapegoat. Uncovering Melchior’s journal, they charge him with atheistic and depraved writing, and accuse him of being to blame for the corruption of Moritz, thereby hastening his end. Melchior is interrogated as to the authorship of the document. His only defense is “Sir, if you could show me one obscenity…” but he is cut off.

The scene shifts to the rock anthem for the play, “Totally F***ed”, a stunning, gut-wrenching yet youthful cry of unfair treatment and misunderstanding. Melchior is summarily expelled and led away, and a light show with full rock band continues the song to an amazing conclusion consisting of “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah” that almost begs the audience to sing along.

The play now moves quickly to Wendla pining for Melchior, who has been ostracized by everyone. Wendla’s innocence now brings her to one last tragedy in the expected classic Shakespearean ending. One that spans hundreds of years and indicts the reasons for its forgone conclusion. A beautiful contrivance brings the entire ensemble cast to a powerfully staged and deeply moving “The Song of Purple Summer.”

The audience will not walk away from “Spring Awakening” contented and humming the songs of this production. But it can leave feeling better about the experience. Seeing the world as it is presented by a cast and production crew that clearly feel deeply about the importance of this play and its message is truly worthwhile. No poor chimpanzee here. The smoking is real.

The CLT website notes that the production has an “R” rating and displays a “content and trigger warning” because of the play’s mention of verbal, physical, and sexual abuse, mental illness, abortion, death, and depictions of suicide and sexual content.

Remaining performances for the production are: Thursday and Friday, April 11 and 12, at 7:30 p.m.; Saturday and Sunday, April 13 and 14, at 2 p.m.

Community Little Theatre is at 30 Academy St., Auburn. Contact: 207-783-0958; email: info@laclt.com; box office email: boxoffice@laclt.com.

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