When you set out to tell the story of a man, there are at least two ways to go about it.

One is to focus on something sensational, some single aspect of the man’s life and build your story around it. This approach is exploitive and rarely captures the story you think you are telling.

The other way to to do it honestly, upfront with everything: the good, the bad and the ugly, if you will.

That’s the kind of honesty that fuels the remounting of "Liberace!", the play written by Brent Hazelton that opened over the weekend at the Stackner Cabaret at the Milwaukee Rep.

There is a comparison between this production, starring Jack Forbes Wilson as Liberace, and the big budget HBO movie "Behind the Candelabra" of last year, Steven Soderbergh's film starring Michael Douglas as Liberace and Matt Damon as his lover Scott Thorson.

The movie met with broad critical acclaim, although in two viewings I thought it was like a cheap soap opera. I’m certain that all the critics didn’t want to be negative about a movie that had two megastars like Douglas and Damon French kissing and being nude in bed together. It was politically correct to like this movie, and they all sold us a bill of goods. It took a man who was multi-faceted and turned him into a cardboard cutout with a simper and a whimper.

Hazelton and Wilson, on the other hand, have created a memorable evening of music and storytelling that that carried me along on a wave of sequins and shining lights.

Liberace, born and raised in Milwaukee, gets the full treatment in this play. It moves delightfully through a magnificent life, from a childhood prodigy to the highest paid entertainer in the world. It covers the conflict between classical piano, ingrained by his father, and being an entertainer and, as he called himself, "Mr. Showmanship."

Along the way, we are treated to some amazing music, ranging from Lizst and Chopin to the children’s nursery rhyme "Three Little Fishes" (You remember it – "And they swam and they swam all over the dam").

Liberace was a huge entertainer until the gossip about his sexuality took over, and his star faded. But in 1963, he grabbed hold of the whole candelabra, outlandish costume and dancing waters, and he became a bigger star than ever.

"They didn’t care," he said about the audience and the gossip. "To recapture the audience’s love, all I had to do was listen to them. When I was on top, they told me very clearly what they liked: the mixture of styles, my glamorous image and my personal connection to them. And when I caved to the critics and junked my unique packaging, the audience told me – very clearly – what they did not like. And that voice, my instinct – Mr. Showmanship – had agreed, ‘Go further!'"

Liberace’s act became an event unlike any other. Animals, cars, flashing lights, fountains that danced in rhythm to the music, every kind of sequin and glitter he could think of and costumes that ranged from outrageous to whatever is more than outrageous. He was as big as they come.

And then the final years came, with his love affair with Thorson gone bad, the book Thorson wrote and the lawsuit filed against Liberace. Yet still Liberace persevered. He knew Mr. Showmanship was going to be just fine when the lights came on, the last elephant or monkey left the stage and he was alone with his piano and his dancing lights.

There was sadness at the end, and on opening night, there was rarely a dry eye in the house. But there were no histrionics to jerk tears for the sake of jerking tears. Instead, there was a gradual stripping away of the glitz and a solitary man, standing alone wishing his life could go on and on and on.

It’s difficult to overestimate the combination of Hazelton – who also directed this production – and Wilson, who has the kind of commanding presence on stage that keeps eyes riveted from start to finish. Hazelton’s script is full of humor and joy, two of the hallmarks of Liberace. And it teases at moments about what’s to come when it all ends for this star.

Wilson is, simply, spectacular. His piano playing is captivating, and his acting is so genuine that there is no doubt that this Liberace is in full charge of both his craft and his life. It’s rare to see this kind of connection between an actor in a one-man play and an audience, but he had all of us in the palm of his hand from the earliest moment.

Liberace was a complicated man, full of the belief that if he gave love, he was going to get love in return. Despite the scorn and the setbacks, he remained faithful to the lyrics of "I’ll Be Seeing You," the classic by Sammy Fain and Irving Kahal that Liberace had made the theme song of his television show.

"I’ll find you in the morning sun,
And when the night is new.
I’ll be looking at the moon,
But I’ll be seeing you."

Liberace runs through Jan. 11 and information on tickets and showtimes can be found here.