“Sometimes in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives you a fairy tale,” is a quote that floats around the Internet on wedding sites and other such places. What the pithy quote doesn’t tell you is that sometimes the fairy tale doesn’t end with the protagonists swearing “I do” and riding off into the sunset together.

Even in the magical world of musicals, it is possible for a love story to be told without a kiss, and for the demands and responsibilities of life to trump the longings of the heart and the passion of individuals.

“Once,” the musical currently touring through Wharton Center, is one such fairy tale. It is a fairy tale for grown-ups, for those who have learned that life is complex and that love has surprising ways of changing us, even if we can’t surrender everything to it.

The musical has an almost magical, mystical quality to it, even while being grounded in the modern world in a place that is easy to recognize. The audience is invited up on stage before the show to look up close at the pub that makes the set. There is no barrier or need to transport the audience to a fairy tale world. Instead, the world of Dublin is brought to the audience. The stage experience even extends beyond the auditorium, with actors performing as street musicians between the Wharton Center parking lot and the building. Later they take center stage while the audience is still wandering about them, and they sing and dance while the house lights are still up full in a pre-show that sets the world as firmly our own.

The two protagonists are nameless, a purposeful everyman and everywoman, even though they are more fully fleshed out than all of the rest of the named ensemble. They are “guy” and “girl.” The guy is an Irish street musician, who is about to give up on his dreams because his broken heart has left him convinced that no one wants to hear his music – at least, no one who matters. The girl is an immigrant from the Czech Republic. She is a pianist, who becomes the guy’s muse.

“Once” is a bittersweet tale that is filled with moments of gentle humor, humor that makes you smile and chuckle rather than guffaw. It is humor that humanizes the characters and make their dreams and desires feel more real.

On opening night, Alex Nee played the role of Guy, and he brought a charisma to the part that was compelling. He wasn’t just a mesmerizing singer, he was a talented actor who knew just how to play moments of silence as well as the spoken ones. Even with a heavy accent and the clipped speech of an Irishman, he was clear and easy to understand.

It is Dani de Waal’s Girl who brings the mystical quality to the show. At first, she seems an angel of sorts, someone sent to rescue Guy for no other reason that he needs a muse. As the story progresses, she becomes more grounded, and we see in her a woman with needs, commitment and dreams. De Waal is magical in her performance. She is ethereal and otherworldly at times, and then in the blink of an eye, completely human and down-to-earth.

Together de Waal and Nee have an incredible chemistry, made all the more so when considering that Nee is the understudy for the role that is usually played by Stuart Ward, an Irish actor touring with the show. There is a strength that comes in the spaces between them. Nee and de Waal create moments where the emptiness and distance is as powerful as any embrace could be.

The rest of the ensemble spends the entire time on stage, and they are a talented crew both vocally and physically. The choreography is splendid and natural. Each of the ensemble members (with the exception of the child actress) plays one or more instruments, and they not only perform with those instruments, but they dance while playing. If you’ve never seen someone dance while playing the cello, you won’t want to miss “Once.” Steven Hoggett’s choreography is complex and deliciously Irish with foot stomping energy.

“Once” defies the usual format for musicals and for fairy tales in many ways. In doing so, it creates something new that is filled with soul, heart and love.