These days our entertainment tends to come with lots of bells and whistles — special effects, bombastic music, fantastical narratives. ‘Bright Star,’ a musical that opened Thursday at the Manatee Performing Arts Center, co-created by the comic and actor Steve Martin and the singer/songwriter Edie Brickell, has little of that.

Vaguely inspired by the true story of the “Iron Mountain Baby” thrown from a train in 1902, it relies on a simple set, folksy bluegrass tunes, and a plot line you’re likely to guess well before its twists are fully revealed. It’s the kind of story that might be spun by an elderly relative who’s imbibed a bit too much and starts revealing family secrets after dinner — an old-fashioned yarn that tugs at the heart strings but finishes with a tidy, wrap-it-all up happy ending.

The Manatee Players production begins (rather abruptly) with the protagonist, Alice Murphy, (Madison DeBrino), center stage on the riser of a simple set with two arches and a partial roof meant to imply a train station platform, belting out “If You Knew My Story” — a foreshadowing of her troubled background and the twisted journey we are about to encounter. DeBrino has a Southern twang as authentic as Patsy Cline’s and a voice powerful enough to rock the rafters and she delivers, like a good country song, with both bravado and an underlying melancholy.

It’s 1945 and Alice is the stern and slightly uptight editor of North Carolina’s Asheville Southern Journal, a literary publication with a coterie of prestigious writers who apparently cower in her wake. “She once made Ernest Hemingway cry,” says Lucy Grant (Brittney Klepper) who, along with Daryl Ames (Ben Rigney) serves as one of Alice’s aspiring underlings and co-workers.

Alice is initially dismissive of Billy Cane (Brendan Kroposky), a 23-year-old with ambitions of becoming a famous writer who shows up trying to sell her his stories and lies about knowing Thomas Wolfe to get his foot in the door. He’s just returned from World War II to learn from his father (Jay Wright) that his mother has died in his absence and that Margo Crawford (Juliana Mattes), who runs the local bookstore in the sleepy town of Zebulon, is still holding a torch for him.

For reasons that ultimately serve the plot, Alice’s response to Billy isn’t quite as hard-nosed and abrupt as we’d expect. She encourages him by buying one of his stories for $10, but tells him he’d be better off finding “a sweeping tale of pain and redemption” — which, in fact, is exactly what is about to unfold on the stage.

But when her co-workers encourage Alice to go out partying for the night, she snaps back to the comfort of her emotional fortress, telling them, “Tonight I just want to cozy up to some unnecessary adverbs and cut their heads off.”

With the first of many flashbacks that require DeBrino to switch costumes and personas in a flash, we see Alice as her 1920s spunky, rebellious teenage self, set on independence but waylaid by the attentions of the dashing red-suspendered Jimmy Ray Dobbs (Gabe Flores). Though his voice is no match for DeBrino’s, Flores can dance a bit, and he wins you over leading the ensemble in “Whoa, Mama,” a stomping, thigh-slapping hillbilly hootenanny.

Neither Alice’s parents (Dan Yonko as Daddy Murphy and Andrea Keddell as Mama) nor Jimmy Ray’s father (Jack Harkleroad), the powerful mayor of Zebulon who is set on his son following in his footsteps, approve of their childrens’ dalliance. So when the inevitable pregnancy occurs, they take matters into their own hands, the traumatic consequences rivaling those of a soap opera or an old time radio serial. (I won’t reveal more here so future audiences can tie up the loose ends themselves.)

That’s part of the charm of ‘Bright Star,” which veers unabashedly into the melodramatic and predictable but, with its down-home songs and sweet sentimentality, lures an audience into the pleasures of a simpler time. Under Cynthia Ashford’s direction, the second act moves along more smoothly than the sometimes choppy first half, completing Alice’s story and leaving behind lessons about the impact of lies and the endurance of love. As Billy says, “The truth walks behind us like a shadow until it merges with us, and until that day we are not whole.”

Not surprisingly for a community theater production, the Southern accents are sometimes less than credible and the dancing variable — though Kroposky’s cut-loose jitterbug to “I Can’t Wait” is unexpectedly vigorous — but there is an earnestness throughout this cast that sucks you in.

The sets (credited only as “in house”) are the definition of minimal, yet effective — a picket fence to imply a house; a file cabinet to suggest an office for adoption records — and easily put in place by ensemble members without causing distraction. Lighting by Nick Jones, which featured a lot of striated overheads that rain down like streaks of sunlight or mist, set a somber tone when it was appropriate and lanterns held aloft by ensemble members during moodier moments were a nice touch. The costumes, by Caren Brady, were period appropriate (love those plaid suits), though to my mind, Alice would never have worn that neon pink suit that opens the show.

If you dig deep enough into any family history there’s probably a story not so different from the one told in “Bright Star” — a story of lies and their consequences, love and loss and, if we’re lucky, hope and redemption. More than the music, it’s the humanity and vulnerability that make this musical sing.

‘Bright Star’: Music, book and story by Steve Martin; music, lyrics by Edie Brickell. Directed and choreographed by Cynthia Ashford. Performances through March 15 at Stone Hall at the Manatee Performing Arts Center, 502 3rd Ave. W., Bradenton. manateeperformingartscenter.com; 941-748-5875