A musical centering on the deadly 2016 Pulse Nightclub massacre in Orlando, Florida? Well, anything can serve as the basis of a tuner including such unusual examples as the travels of the mummified corpse of a minor train robber (Dead Outlaw), the women’s suffrage movement (Suffs) or the bloodthirsty killing spree of a certain demon barber and his cannablistic accomplice (I shouldn’t have to give the title, but here goes, Sweeney Todd). It’s a matter of presenting the material in a new and exciting manner as the three named examples did. Despite having its heart in the right place, Donald Rupe’s From Here, presented by Orlando’s Renaissance Theater Company at the Signature Theater Center, is a collection of musical and emotional cliches. There are some moving moments, but they are saved for the last portion of the evening and fail to balance a bland beginning and middle.

Rupe, who is co-founder and producer of the company as well as author of the book, music and lyrics and director of the show, offers little new or affecting about the horrific attack on the gay club. In fact, none of the characters were at Pulse at the time of the shooting or even know any of the victims or survivors except casually. We don’t really get to know the onstage characters or care about them. They come across as generic and non-specific. They’re all friends, hang out at Pulse regularly and are naturally devastated by the shooting, but are not developed much beyond that.

The majority of the plot involves narrator Daniel (an earnest Blake Aburn), a single gay man embarking on a new romance after a break-up. But Daniel’s main conflict is with his mother for whom he leaves daily musical voicemails which she refuses to answer. Evidently, the mother Becca (compassionate Becca Southworth) has difficulty accepting her son’s sexuality even though she enthusiastically attends the gay-friendly cabaret performance of Daniel’s best friend Jordan (a lively Michelle Coben) and says she loves Will and Grace.

None of Daniel’s dilemmas are particularly urgent. He remains on good terms with his ex (attractive Julien Aponte). His new boyfriend (appealing Omar Cardona) doesn’t seem too clingy or weird. His community of friends are accepting and supportive, even if their main recreation is getting drunk on Game Night at Pulse. After about an hour of Daniel’s woes, the shooting takes place (off stage) and the gang gathers at Daniel’s place for a group therapy session and a series of ballads about community.

The cast is game and heartfelt. Aburn displays a dry wit and easy charm, navigating through the Hallmark-card sentiments of his long monologues to the audience and singing with verve. Southworth makes a credible mother, though Rupe’s motivations for her alienation from her son are not particularly strong. Cardona soars above the material with an impassioned rendition of a song about the death of his mother in Puerto Rico. Cohen has the most fun with a bouncy comedy turn about her love of gay men (though the lyrics are bit forced—“homos” rhyming with “chromosomos”).

Rupe’s staging is mostly adequately paced but there are few too many long pauses for supposed dramatic effect. The songs are sweet, finely orchestrated by Jason M. Bailey but not especially memorable. From Here has a perfectly fine message—community is important and mass shootings are tragic—but fails to makes its points in a new or vital way.

But Ain’t Done Bad, also at the Signature Center after a run in Orlando, does look at familiar story in a different and exciting way. Country Western music is not what you might expect for the score of a dance-theater piece exploring the coming out process of a young gay man and the reaction of his family. But, Jakob Karr’s dynamic dance piece Ain’t Done Bad is an explosive and passionate declaration of the love that now speaks its name loudly and the music feels just right. That might be because the tunes playing on the soundtrack are those of Orville Peck, the openly gay C&W singer-songwriter. Ironically, Peck wears a mask onstage, contributing, perhaps unintentionally, to the idea that gayness should be hidden, but that’s the subject of a separate article.

While Peck keeps his features hidden in his onstage appearances, Karr exposes himself almost literally in the lead role of Ain’t Done Bad which he also conceived, directed, and choreographed. At several points he strips down to a bikini-brief and dances with abandon, joyously celebrating his slim, toned body and his attraction for other men.

The storyline is fairly routine, Karr plays The Son, the youngest child of a presumably conventional, Southwestern family since Peck’s music denotes that part of the country. His doting Mother (Megumi Iwama) indulges in his artistic, creative side, allowing him to try on her make-up. His Brother (Ian Spring) is baffled by his sibling’s expression of identity but still loves him in roughhouse manner. The father (Adrian Lee) is openly hostile. Karl depicts the fraught family dynamic in a fascinating staging around the dinner table with the four dancers conveying anger and conflict through violent, synchronized movement.

The Son leaves home to find freedom and makes a connection with two free spirits (Yusaku Komori and Jordan Lombardi) who encourage him to be his true self by donning a glittery, spangled denim jacket complete with silver fringe. After several brief trysts, he finds a steady boyfriend (Josh Escover) and takes him home to meet the folks. Not an especially original or unique storyline, but the main feature here is the dancing—sharp, kinetic choreography thrillingly executed by an exemplary company.

There are several memorable sequences. In addition to the intense dinner scenes, there’s beautiful erotic and emotional duet for Karr and Escover to Peck’s soulful rendition of “Unchained Melody.” After they coyly flirt and then passionately embrace, the company circles them with mirrored flats, so we see flashes of the lovers reflected repeatedly. The Son discovers himself with the encouragement of his new friends while Peck’s “Legends Never Die” plays, in a burst of youthful athleticism.

Karr conveys the Son’s shy, tentative steps towards self-acceptance with flair. Adrian Lee captures the Father’s rage perfectly. Megumi Iwami makes for a compassionate Mother. Ian Spring portrays the Brother’s ambivalence well, Yesaku Komori and Jordan Lombardi give the Friends exuberance, and Josh Escover has charm as the Lover.

Philip Lupo’s lighting is particularly effective in setting the proper mood whether dreamily romantic or fraught with tension. Unlike From Here, Ain’t Done Bad takes a story we’ve heard and seen frequently and delivers it with vitality and freshness.

From Here: June 29—Aug. 11. Renaissance Theater Company at the Pershing Square Signature Theater Center, 480 W. 42nd St., NYC. Running time: one hour and 40 mins. with no intermission. From Here.

Ain’t Done Bad: July 14—Aug. 31. Renaissance Theater Company and Blue Topaz Productions at Pershing Square Signature Theater Center, 480 W. 42nd St., NYC. Running time: 80 mins. including intermission. aintdonebad.com.