Since Stephen Sondheim’s death last November, a torrent of tributes ranging from cabaret acts to rhapsodic essays has poured forth — leading one of my fellow critics to wonder, mostly in jest, if we’ve forgotten that a few other great composers and lyricists have made their mark on musical theater over the past century.

Yet even if you’re feeling “Sondheimed out,” as my comrade put it — and certainly if you aren’t — it’s well worth your while to secure a ticket to Lear deBessonet’s exuberant new production of “Into the Woods,” Sondheim and librettist James Lapine’s amalgamation of several Brothers Grimm stories.

First produced on Broadway in 1987, “Woods” offers as pure a distillation as any of Sondheim’s works of his unique ability to reconcile darkness and light, and to capture the shades of gray that usually prevail in life — and can be found in fairy tales, if you look closely enough.

This is accomplished through music and lyrics that reflect, in their warmth and wonder and directness, the keen influence of Sondheim’s mentor, Oscar Hammerstein II. Yes, “Woods” offers plenty of the razor-sharp wit that Sondheim’s more casual fans and critics tend to emphasize, but in tracing its characters’ journeys from innocence to experience and from yearning to disenchantment, the musical leads with its heart, and always puts the pursuit of wisdom — however elusive — over the easier goal of cleverness.

Ms. deBessonet’s staging, which originated as part of New York City Center’s Encores! concert series this past spring, puts the focus squarely on this score, and on Mr. Lapine’s similarly forthright, funny and moving text. David Rockwell’s layered set remains spare, keeping the onstage orchestra in plain view throughout, and costume changes are minimal; designer Andrea Hood leans giddily into the characters, so that Cinderella’s stepsisters’ dresses are as loud and tacky as beanstalk climber Jack’s mother’s is frumpy and functional.

The director, whose notable credits range from an ebullient Shakespeare in the Park production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” to ABC’s “Annie Live!,” milks the comedy in “Woods” with equal gusto, and there are moments where her approach borders on overkill. The lavishly gifted singer and actor Gavin Creel was plainly encouraged to chew the scenery in his brief scenes as Little Red Ridinghood’s Wolf, and he and Joshua Henry — also a formidable talent familiar to regular theatergoers, and one of a few performers added to the cast since the City Center run — lay the ham on a bit thick as the princes courting, respectively, Cinderella and Rapunzel.

But these are minor, perhaps even petty complaints given the overall quality of these and other performances, and how deftly Ms. deBessonet mines both the playfulness and the poignance of the material. As the Baker and his wife, whose wish to have a child is fulfilled at a very high cost and with unforeseen consequences — not an uncommon fate for wishes, as this musical repeatedly reminds us — Brian d’Arcy James and Sara Bareilles manage a chemistry more tender and grounded than the frisky rapport Ms. Bareilles enjoyed with Neil Patrick Harris, who played the Baker at City Center.

Ms. Bareilles’s comedic prowess is nonetheless even more pronounced here than it was in that previous turn, which was revelatory for an artist known primarily as a singer/songwriter before appearing as a replacement in “Waitress,” the musical she scored to acclaim in 2016. (Viewers of the Peacock series “Girls5eva” have gotten a peek at her chops.) Striking a perfect balance between goofy and dry as her folky singing voice lends freshness and clarity to gems such as “It Takes Two” and “Moments in the Woods,” Ms. Bareilles makes the role that earned Joanna Gleason a Tony Award nearly 35 years ago very much her own.   

Other performances retained from the City Center production have added polish to their glow, particularly Julia Lester’s wonderfully wry Little Red Ridinghood and Cole Thompson’s hapless but lovable Jack. Phillipa Soo, best known as an original star of “Hamilton,” steps into Cinderella’s slippers with all the grace that Denée Benton brought to the role earlier, while as the Witch, Patina Miller — the triple threat who glided so adroitly into Ben Vereen’s shoes in the 2013 Broadway revival of “Pippin” — proves as robust a force as Heather Headley was, and adds more youthful sass after the character gets her glamorous makeover.

And what, “Woods” fans may now be asking, of Milky White, Jack’s bovine best friend? Rest assured that the cow is duly and hilariously served by puppet designer James Ortiz and actors Kennedy Kanagawa, who also maneuvered the puppet at City Center, and understudy Cameron Johnson, who while filling in for Mr. Kanagawa at the preview I attended got to partake in what is surely one of the funniest stage exits ever made. 

Anyone attending this  “Into the Woods” should be prepared for tears as well as laughter, along with epiphanies that can seem as simple as they are profound. Little wonder that so many are so eager to salute Sondheim; we can only hope for more homages as lovely as this one.