For those who would argue that Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics are too clever by half, “A Little Night Music” could be Exhibit A in their speciousness. The 1973 musical — inspired by the Ingmar Bergman film “Smiles of A Summer Night,” and featuring a book by Hugh Wheeler, also Sondheim’s collaborator on “Sweeney Todd” — focuses on the romantic follies of a well-off set in turn-of-the-century Sweden, circa 1900.

The group includes a former courtesan, Madame Armfeldt; her daughter, Desiree, a glamorous but fading actress; Fredrik, a successful attorney and Desiree’s former flame; Count Carl-Magnus, Desiree’s pompous lover, and Countess Charlotte, his tortured wife. The airs and hypocrisies rippling through this group are perhaps best captured in the Act One finale, “A Weekend in the Country,” sung by these and other characters as they receive — or learn about — invitations to a party Desiree has convinced her mother to throw for Fredrik and his new, very young bride, Anne.

A typical exchange from the song: “A weekend in the country, just imagine—/It’s completely depraved/A weekend in the country/It’s insulting/It’s engraved.” After more winking witticisms are batted back and forth, all sing, “A weekend in the country/How enchanting/On the manicured lawns/A weekend in the country/With the panting/And the yawns.”

In truth, Sondheim always tailored both his music and his lyrics to the characters at hand; if those in “Night Music” can make us roll our eyes even as we laugh in delight, that’s precisely the point. And as with all his scores, there are songs here — among them his most famous piece, “Send in the Clowns” — that, however elegant, tear at your heart.    

For the new concert staging of “Night Music” being presented through June 29 at Lincoln Center, director Marc Bruni has enlisted a starry company to mine the show’s humor and poignance. Also, Sondheim’s longtime collaborator, Jonathan Tunick, who provided the original orchestrations for this musical (and many of the composer’s others), has provided new ones for this occasion, and is on hand to conduct the 53-piece Orchestra of St. Luke’s.   

These assets notwithstanding, the opening performance got off to a bit of a creaky start. Stage and screen veteran Ron Raines and the celebrated operatic mezzo-soprano Susan Graham, respectively cast as Fredrik and Desiree, seemed oddly hesitant performing their first, uproarious duet, “You Must Meet My Wife”; Mr. Raines appeared to fumble a lyric in one verse.

Yet both accomplished performers grew steadily in their roles, and happily, Mr. Bruni has surrounded them with a bevy of established and rising musical theater stars, all adroitly cast. Shuler Hensley and Ruthie Ann Miles are standouts as the count and countess: Mr. Hensley, who has excelled as heavies ranging from Jud in “Oklahoma!” to The Grinch, brings a zesty buffoonery that’s perfectly countered by Ms. Miles’s bone-dry, razor-sharp wit.

As Anne, whose marriage to Fredrik remains unconsummated after 11 months, Kerstin Anderson captures the steely resourcefulness of a blushing rose, while Jason Gotay proves endearing as the awkward male ingenue, Fredrik’s son, Henrik, who pines for his young stepmother. Marsha Mason is winningly wry as the frail but feisty Madame Armfeldt, who observes their foibles, and those of the older lovers, with amusement.

A quintet of fine singers appears as the “Liebeslieders,” who help propel the narrative; like the principals, they are beautifully served by Mr. Tunick, who has not radically revised his impeccable original work. The Sondheim stalwart, now 86, leads the musicians robustly but also with great discretion, so that neither the vocals nor nuances in the music are overshadowed. 

“Night Music” boasts not one but a pair of 11 o’clock numbers: The first, “Clowns,” has been covered both by great singers — from Sinatra to Streisand to Judy Collins, who made it a hit single in 1975 — and, in productions of the show, formidable actors not known for their vocal prowess, among them Glynis Johns and Judi Dench. Ms. Graham’s reading is tender and careful, wisely devoid of any bravura tricks.

Still, I was most excited to hear the second showstopper, “The Miller’s Son,” as it’s delivered here by Cynthia Erivo, whose glorious voice and radiant presence first graced Broadway in a revival of “The Color Purple,” and will be prominently featured in the upcoming screen adaptation of “Wicked.” Predictably, Ms. Erivo — playing Anne’s lusty maid, Petra — knocked it out of the park, expertly traversing Sondheim’s account of the “very short road from the pinch and the punch/To the paunch and the pouch and the pension.”

In the end, certainly, this lovingly staged “Night Music” captures the dual sense of adventure and urgency accompanying that journey.