Alfred Damon Runyan — aka Damon Runyon — loved Broadway and the many wildly unique individuals who made it their home base.

Gamblers, hustlers, actors and gangsters became the colorful characters with whom the newspaper sports columnist populated his many short stories.

Many of them went from the printed page to the silver screen, beginning in 1933 with “Lady for A Day,” a heartwarming story which led director Frank Capra to christen its author “Creator of the American Fairy Tale.”

Several years after Runyon’s death in 1946, the best known compilation of his works was put to music by Frank Loesser and came to the Great White Way with a book by Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows. It is, of course, “Guys and Dolls.” Taken from two Runyon stories, it is now a musical theater classic, which opened a three-week run Friday in South Bend Civic Theatre’s Wilson Mainstage Auditorium.

There is no denying that the score is one of the best in the history of musical comedies. “I’ve Never Been in Love Before,” “Lucky Be a Lady,” “I’ll Know (When My Love Comes Along),” “Sit Down You’re Rockin’ the Boat,” “Adelaide’s Lament,” the familiar “Fugue For Tinhorns” and, of course, the always relevant title tune.

In this production, the characters are colorful, the voices are solid and the instrumentation is again via computer track, simulating a live orchestra. Although this is nowhere near as good as the one used by SBCT in “Into the Woods,” it is many times more preferable than most of the live orchestras which have “accompanied” the group’s musicals. The set, designed by director David Chudzynski, was definitely minimalist, with doorways stage right and left serving as numerous location entrances and exits and the ever-popular hanging/rotating flats hauled in and out to do the same. A variety of set pieces were placed (and displaced) by the stage crew (of 2) and many of the ensemble. This was only extremely disturbing when a pay phone call was being made downstage left and it seemed as if a wrecking crew was attacking upstage right. Undoubtedly, this will subside.

The costumes gave no clue as to the period of the piece and any attempt at color palate was nil. The Salvation Army uniforms were ill-fitting and unattractive and had an Asian aura to their design. And for the ladies of the ensemble, the criteria unfortunately seemed to be “anything that fits.”

The characters who receive the most notice here (and deservedly so) are bookie Nathan Detroit and his fiancé of 14 years, Hot Box nightclub chanteuse Adelaide. In these roles, SBCT veteran Ted Manier and Allison Jones sing very well, attack their comedy lines with applaudable restraint and solid timing and deliver obviously sympathetic characterizations which happily avoid the caricature approach adopted by others. Jones had our sympathy in the frantic staging of the “Lament,” but “Sue Me” was right on,)

Gambler Sky Masterson (John Kurdelak) and Sarah Brown (Caitlin O’Brien) have solid voices but little or no character connection. As the primary love interest, this was unsettling. Even during the drunken fight in Havana and the ensuing “If I Were A Bell,” the descriptive adjective would be “awkward”.

On the plus side is the opening “Fugue for Tinhorns,” with mellow-voiced Sean Leyes as Nicely-Nicely Johnson, all-ethnicity actor Steve Chung as Rusty Charlie and John Raab as Benny Southstreet blending beautifully in the post-time trio. Leyes was very strong in leading “Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ The Boat.” Raab, however, obviously determined to stand out, was mugging and constantly in motion. Instead of being funny, he became increasingly annoying as the evening wore on (2 hours and 30 minutes plus intermission).

The choral numbers — “The Oldest Established (Permanent Floating Crap Game in New York),” “Luck Be A Lady,” “Sit Down” and the title tune finale — were excellent, but I missed at least some attempt at the “Crapshooters Dance.” The Hot Box Girls were properly screechy in “A Bushel and A Peck” and “Take Back Your Mink,” and a variety of accents were displayed throughout in Runyon’s signature dialogue mix of formal speech and colorful slang.

“GUYS AND DOLLS” plays Wednesdays through Sundays through March 17. For performance times and reservations, call 234-1112 or visit www.sbct.org

I am known, sometimes unfortunately, for making definite declarations of my likes and dislikes. Theatrically speaking, one of the latter is farce.

This is to admit that there are exceptions to every rule. One hilarious exception opened Friday evening in South Bend Civic Theatre’s Wilson Mainstage Auditorium.

Titled “Unnecessary Farce,” it was written by Chicago actor Paul Slade Smith. Given my feelings about the genre, some really killer headlines were rolling around in my head in advance of the performance.

After about five minutes they vanished, much like the heroine’s costume.

Perhaps the fact that I had never seen it before played a part in my inability to stop laughing, especially as the bumbling antics escalated. I am inclined, however, to credit the spot-on timing elicited by director Richard Baxter from his septet of obviously dedicated actors.

Whoever said “Dying is easy, comedy is hard” knew what they were talking about, especially as it relates to the comic part. Will not even begin to try and outline the plot, because plot is the least of the worries in putting together a successful farce. Suffice it to say that the fit of actors and roles could not have been better here.

The frame on which the frequently mindless activity is hung concerns a sting operation set up in adjoining motel rooms. The aim is to catch a mayor in the act of receiving payoffs for city contracts. The “trappers” are a veteran-but-bumbling cop (Tucker Curtis), his bumblingly over-eager rookie sidekick (Eva Cavadini) and the whistle-blowing accountant (Trisha Himmelein). Their target is the obviously innocent mayor (Jason Gresl).

On the other side of the sting is a mysterious killer for the Scottish Clan (“that’s clan with a C”) known as the Highland Hitman (Matthew Bell) and an even more mysterious mob boss known only as Big Mac. Somewhere in between is FBI Agent Frank (Bill Svelmoe), and the mayor’s wife (Mary Toll), tottering in and out in search of her husband.