I admit: I’ve never particularly warmed to "White Christmas." For many – including some of my own co-workers – the Irving Berlin-penned 1954 movie musical starring Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney is a must-watch Christmas classic. I have no ill-will toward the film; mine was just always "A Christmas Story" house (or occasionally a "Bad Santa" house if Mom was gone and the libations were flowing).

For those with that built-in affection for the film and the sweet, innocent days of times long gone past, "White Christmas" might be perfect. For me, though, the show – which opened Tuesday night at the Marcus Center – was a whole lot of holly-drenched hokum, as fresh as a Christmas Day snow in the dregs of March.

The story is pretty close to the Michael Curtiz-directed original: Two military guys – loveless nice guy Bob Wallace (James Clow) and womanizer Phil Davis (David Elder) – become stage entertainment superstars after World War II, performing on the Ed Sullivan Show. While touring the nation, they audition and meet a singing duo of sisters. Judy (Meredith Patterson) falls for the sleazy but big-hearted Phil, while Betty (Trista Moldovan) and Bob are flirty at first but soon become testy romantic rivals.

Seeing a chance to find Bob – and himself – some love, as well as sign the ladies as a lead act, Phil tricks Bob into heading to Vermont with the girls for their next gig, which turns out to be at a snow lodge owned by their old endearingly gruff WWII general Henry Waverly (Joseph Costa). Vermont’s stuck in a bit of a heat wave, though, and a snow lodge in a place without any snow isn’t exactly bringing in the customers. They decide to help, calling in their Broadway friends and putting their latest show together in the lodge’s barn in the hopes of bringing people to town.

There are very few contrived, hokey and well-recycled predictable plot points to be left out of "White Christmas." There’s the "save the barn" subplot, alongside the mismatched but sure-to-be-lovers who fall apart after a simple misunderstanding, one that could be easily solved with a human conversation that characters annoyingly just don’t have in romances such as these. There’s even a cloyingly adorable moppet, played with "aw"-wringing precociousness by nine-year-old Shannon Harrington.

These are old, well-worn tropes that can’t simply be dusted off and thrown on the stage. They need a jolt of freshness or energy that unfortunately "White Christmas" doesn’t provide. The show looks nice and fittingly in the holiday spirit, thanks to the nice period costumes by Carrie Robbins and the scenic design by Kenneth Foy, and the classic music from Irving Berlin – of course including the titular song itself – is still catchy and warm.

However, there’s no escaping the story’s corniness and breeziness. Even if it wasn’t an adaptation, it’d be easy to figure where everything is going. That may bring cozy holiday comfort and nostalgia to fans of the original movie, but for the uninitiated or uninvested, it’s more likely to bring yawns.

The performers aren’t quite able to raise the material up or add much new life to it. Clow and Elder have fine singing voices, but they struggle to make their generic leads very interesting, other than putting on some hammily heavy, Troy McClure-esque old timey showmen vocal inflections. Clow and Moldovan are fairly sweet and sincere together, but they generate barely enough romantic heat between their characters to concern a five-minute snow flurry.

Meanwhile, Elder is stuck with the dopey, vanilla old school comic relief. He, and the rest of the show, are good for a laugh here or there – Bob and Betty’s awkward first encounter is worthy of a couple of chuckles, for instance – but it feels like there are more misses than hits. The same goes for Ruth Williamson, who plays the general’s sassy, caring desk receptionist with showbiz aspirations.

When "White Christmas" does come alive, it’s during the dance numbers. It’s during those numbers, fueled by Berlin’s music and Randy Skinner’s choreography, that the show leaves behind its tired contrived story and blah characters, and just pleasantly drifts into musical bliss.

A dance between Phil and Judy during "The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing" turns beautiful when the club fades away and the two are left smoothly moving across the misty stage like they’re ice skating. And anytime tap shoes are involved, namely during big dance breaks on "Happy Holidays/Let Yourself Go" and I Love a Piano," the show briefly clicks to invigorating life.

It’s one of the few aspects of "White Christmas," no matter how charmingly innocent, winsome and impossible to hate it can be, that doesn’t feel like it comes with cobwebs.

"White Christmas" is playing at the Marcus Center for the Performing Arts through Dec. 1. For more information about tickets, visit their website.