Jeffrey Neuman’s canny drama, “The Headliners,” wows at Pluss Theatre

In the Mizel Arts and Culture Center’s Pluss Theatre, something special is taking place: A new play is coming into its own. Having donned the stuff that full productions are made of — attuned scenic, lighting, sound and costume design (always costume design) — “The Headliners” is getting its world premiere.

And the Cherry Creek Theatre’s staging of Jeffrey Neuman’s wise play — which runs through May 21 — quietly wows.

Neuman sets his engaging drama — with music and a little bit of sashaying — in 1908, the year New York City’s vaudeville quasars Eva Tanguay and Julian Eltinge decided to flip the script on the institution of marriage (or perhaps punk their audiences) with a public engagement to take place on stage. She’d wear the tux. He, a masterful female impersonator, would be the bride.

With some psychological accessorizing and a deep dive into the historical record by the playwright, “The Headliners” pulls the curtain on the pair as they head into their really big show. In doing so, the fluidly wise play stirs thoughts about identity and performance (and where the twain meet) that will resonate with our LGBTQ+ (always plus) moment but also dives into their seemingly fraught friendship.

Inhabited beautifully by Norrell Moore and Jeremy Rill, Eva and Julian (or Julie, as she teases him) often seem like professional frenemies at best. She’s no-holds barred. He’s pent up in ways that make it easy for Eva to tease him, to infer things about his sexuality based on his love of his craft. That each has an interpretation of the Salome and Dance of the Seven Veils act becomes a telling entry into the ways they see themselves as artists and, perhaps, as people.

The show comes by its deft handling of the pair’s song and dance — their emotional minuet as well as their actual onstage performances — honestly. Director Nick Sugar knows how to put on a show. (It was in the Sugar-directed Town Hall Art Center productions of “Hair” and then “Anything Goes” a few years back that Moore made a cumulative and lasting impression.)

And anything goes for Eva. Heralded by show cards announcing her act brought onstage by the stage manager (Paul Jaquith playing that role for both stars), she vamps in a cocktail dress made of dollar bills. “Let me slip into something more frugal,” she says to the audience.

Her curls cascade. Her smile is expansive. Moore’s voice is more polished than Eva’s was (if scratchy recordings are any indication), but she gets into the coy spirit of Eva’s songs just the same.  “My voice may sound funny, but it’s getting me some money,” she sings in the classic “I Don’t Care,” a song that suggests the opposite of what it insists. (As if you need further proof of a forced indifference, Judy Garland sings the song in “In the Good Old Summertime.”)

Eva’s an audience wooer, a flirt, a winker-nudger. She’s unafraid to mix it up with a heckler and she’s got a knack for self-promotion. At the play opens, she has recently placed an ad announcing their engagement to take place at Harlem’s Alhambra. Julian is not comfortable with her marketing strategy.

“Think about it: Two of the biggest names in entertainment tying the knot!” she says with what turns out to be congenital verve. “People will eat it up! I mean, we’re a match made in headlines: ‘Eva and Julian: Who Will Wear the Pants at the Altar?’ Or, ‘The Queen of Vaudeville to Wed The Prettiest Girl on The Stage.’”