Husband and wife Dennis and Nedra Casey perform as Andrew Makepeace Ladd III and Melissa Gardner in Butler Little Theatre's production of "Love Letters." Michael Dittman/Submitted

Butler Little Theatre opens its production of A.R. Gurney’s “Love Letters” at a moment when the very act at the center of the play is disappearing.

At the end of December, Denmark’s national postal service announced it would deliver its final letters at the end of 2025, the victim of a 90% decline in mail volume since 2000. In an age of texts, Snapchats and emails, it’s fair to wonder what a play built entirely on letter writing might look like if it were written today.

That question hovers over this production of “Love Letters,” a work that feels both nostalgic and defiant. While the modern world insists that handwritten correspondence is obsolete, Gurney’s epistolary classic reminds us that the urge to communicate thoughtfully and tangibly has not disappeared. Recent polls suggest that nearly half of Gen Z still writes letters once or twice a month, drawn by the intimacy and creativity of pen and paper. “Love Letters” lands squarely in that tension between fading forms and enduring human needs.

The production embraces the show’s long-standing casting tradition with a revolving lineup. During the first week of the run (including the night of this review), real-life husband and wife Dennis and Nedra Casey take on the roles of Andrew Makepeace Ladd III and Melissa Gardner. In the second week, local theater stalwarts Jud Stewart and Katy Wayne step into those shoes. It’s a smart choice for a play that has always thrived on the distinct chemistry each pairing brings.

Director Jerry Johnston, who has been associated with Butler Little Theatre in various capacities for more than 40 years, guides the show with a confident hand. Johnston has directed “Love Letters” before, but this time he adds a few flourishes: a cozy set and a screen behind the actors that flashes images evoking the subjects of the letters, as if the audience is briefly allowed inside the characters’ minds. The visual support enriches the experience without betraying the play’s essential simplicity.

That simplicity is the point. “Love Letters” is attractive to actors and directors because there is no blocking and no memorization. But that lack of theatrical structure means the performers must carry the entire emotional weight with their voices, pacing and faces alone. The Caseys rise to the challenge, tracing the long emotional arc of Andy and Melissa’s lives with subtle shifts in tone and rhythm.

From the outset, the performers crisply define their characters’ personalities. Nedra’s Melissa is guarded and sharp-edged; Dennis’ Andy is earnest and devoted to rules and reasons. When the actors portray the characters as children, always a potentially awkward proposition, they do so without cutesiness, simply lifting their pitch and adjusting their tempo. The choice works, and it allows the early letters, filled with birthday parties and classroom flirtations, to feel sweet rather than saccharine.

The first act moves briskly through childhood and adolescence, capturing the universal dramas of growing up while quietly laying the groundwork for the play’s deeper theme: missed chances and lives that never quite align. Some references are undeniably dated, but the emotional core remains intact.

As the years pass, Andy’s life follows a steady, success-oriented trajectory, while Melissa’s begins to unravel. She grapples with an alcoholic mother, sexual abuse and a growing sense of alienation, even as her artistic talent emerges. Nedra imbues Melissa with a deep vein of internalized sadness that slowly distills into rage and depression. Her modulation is particularly effective, capturing both Melissa’s downward spiral and the fleeting moments of joy when she and Andy finally meet again in person. As Andy, Dennis Casey brings a gentle self-aware earnestness to the role, capturing the character’s decency without sanding down his awkward edges. His nerdy warmth and precise vocal control make Andy’s devotion, restraint and quiet longing feel deeply human rather than merely proper.

Ultimately, what makes “Love Letters” so haunting is its recognition that no amount of correspondence can fully capture the human heart. Even today, when we document ourselves endlessly online, we still record only fragments of what it means to be human. In its quiet simplicity, Butler Little Theatre’s production reminds us that much of life unfolds alone, a private letter composed beyond any reader’s reach.

“Love Letters” runs Friday, Jan. 30, through Sunday, Feb. 1, and Tuesday, Feb.3, through Saturday, Feb. 7. Tickets can be purchased at butlerlittletheatre.com. “Love Letters” runs approximately 90 minutes, with a 10-minute intermission, and contains adult language and the mention of suicide.