"Chess" is a musical you want to love, with its catchy songs by members of ABBA and intelligent lyrics by Tim Rice of "Evita" fame. And in the professional hands of N.C. Theatre, it has powerhouse singing, vivid staging and arresting visuals.

So why is it so unsatisfying?

The answer lies in the musical's origins. The popular 1984 concept album, with songs by Benny Anderson and Bjorn Ulvaeus, centered on chess as a metaphor for the Cold War. The 1986 London staging added a detailed plot about international chess matches in which secret agents control the destinies of players and lovers, but got mixed reviews. The 1988 Broadway production revised the plot and concept but fared no better. Subsequent revisions have made no significant improvement.

Although great emphasis is placed on the love triangle between American chess champion Freddie, his American lover Florence, and the Russian contender Anatoly she falls for, the show is ultimately about conflicting ideologies -- a theme that just doesn't musicalize well. It tries to cover too much political science with only sketchy characterizations, its somber action too fragmented to follow easily.

Still, the NCT cast does its best to minimize the problems. Carrie A. Johnson carries the show as the vulnerable but feisty Florence, torn by her newfound love and the memory of what the Soviets did to her father. Johnson's beautiful voice makes her big numbers -- "Someone Else's Story," "Heaven Help My Heart" and "I Know Him So Well" -- worth the ticket price alone.

Aaron Ramey's Anatoly is a sympathetic figure, caught up in his country's political turmoil. Ramey sings with hearty tone, especially affecting in the "You and I" love duet. Ray Walker mines all of Freddie's arrogance and egotism, supplying intense vocal characterizations, culminating in the showstopping "Pity the Child."

Josh Tower brings a strong voice and personality to the Arbiter, official of the chess match. As Anatoly's wife, Joan Almedilla makes her few scenes count, vocally and emotionally. James Zannelli's Russian agent Molokov is coolly sinister, while Evan Lubeck's American agent Walter is coldheartedly gung-ho.

Director Casey Hushion wisely focuses on the human drama, her staging clear, direct and cinematic. The production numbers surrounding the chess matches call for a flashy, surreal style, which Hushion and choreographer Josh Rhodes dutifully mount, even though they are at odds with the reality of the rest.

The clever chessboard set has embedded electronic lighting that pulses in various patterns and colors depending on the scene. On the backdrop is a large screen that shows stills and videos enhancing locations and moods. Edward G. Robinson leads the large orchestra with zest and precision, sometimes too loudly in the big numbers but sensitively supportive in the many introspective moments.

NCT's production can be recommended for its top-notch cast and technical elements, while the score's pounding anthems and lyrical love songs almost makes up for the lack of a compelling, coherent plot.