Just about the greatest tribute one may give an actor is: “You did that role so realistically, I didn’t even think you were acting. I came to believe that was the real character on the stage.”

I would need to extend that tribute to the six ladies on the stage of the Hillbarn Theatre with their flawlessly mastered dialect and lilt of Southern speech patterns in “Steel Magnolias.”

This isn’t the greatest dramatic/comedy in the world, so it needs top-notch performers to give it full life. Director Ann Kutchins rounded up this “terrific six” and let them loose in well-paced performances.

Adding to the effect of realism is there is no proscenium break or raised stage between the audience and those performing on Hillbarn’s expansive floor space. And, again, Lee Basham has come up with such a realistic set that one imagines one is right in a local beauty parlor, along with the six ladies, in a rural county of Northeast Louisiana.

The choice of the remote setting is due to the play being a tribute by the author to his sister, a beloved friend, who suffered in such a locale.

The play covers several years in the late 1980s. The four scenes take place in “Truvy’s Hair Salon.”

Gathering for socializing in beauty salons are women’s answers to male bonding in bars and clubs. Saturdays are when the clients in this salon do their bonding as close friends, as well as, for hair care, socialization and gossip.

The owner, earthy Truvy (Damaris Divito), is about to hire and begin mothering a young Annelle (Heather Galli), who has been abandoned and left penniless by her husband.

Clairee (Carolyn Ford Compton) is the wife of a prominent and wealthy local who was once mayor of the town. She is the quintessential socially prominent lady of the South; yet, she retains a modest self image and has cultivated a wicked sense of humor, which she exercises freely upon wealthy and neurotic widow Ouiser (Janice Leone).

Although lovable, Ouiser is a chronic grouch and complainer, who argues: “I’m not crazy. I’ve just been in a bad mood the last 40 years.” One day when she comes into salon in an upbeat mood, without missing a beat,

Clairee asks: “Why are you so happy? Did you run over a child on the way here?”

There is much Neil Simon-style humor, here, with his absurdist comments on ordinary events, Ouiser’s dog is being driven to distraction by the neighbor’s constant firing of guns. As a result, he is losing body hair in clumps. Someone looks out of the window at him and remarks what beautiful pink skin he has.

Another example comes from a phone conversation: “If you are trying to drive me crazy, you’re too late.”

The play is studded with such unexpected and spontaneous lines that keep the audience laughter ceaselessly rolling. But these do not subordinate the intent of the play, which is an exploration of the warmth of the friendships and the seriousness of these women’s lives, which are expressed in references to offstage relationships. 

The significance of the title is a reference to the seemingly fragile natures of Southern ladies who, nevertheless, survive the problems thrust upon them with “steely” courage and responses. And the ladies in this play have had much tribulation dropped upon them and have been bonding for mutual support.

The third patron/friend is M’Lynn (Mary Price Moore), a prominent socialite and career woman who needs to deal with her health-challenged daughter Shelby (Alexandra Bogorad), who in the first scene is in the salon being “dolled up” for her marriage. Shelby’s problem becomes the spine of the play around which all of the drama and humor swirls.

Even among this excellent cast, Mary Moore puts in the most memorable performance in the last scene, so angry she needs to punch someone. Clairee bounds Oiser arms and body and offers her for the punch. It’s that kind of comedy, but I still suggest you bring a hanky. This is one of those plays where the interaction among the characters almost rises above plot and you will go away with a treasury of quotable quips.

Very unusual is several of the actresses actually perform the hair washing and style settings onstage in front of the audience.

If you want to be right there in Truvy’s Hair Salon, sharing in the bonding, the traumas, the gossip, the courage and the other realities of Southern ladies in the Deep South, Hillbarn Theatre is the place to go. Just don’t sit too close to the hair washing sink or the manicure table. And bring along your sense of humor and an emergency hanky, although Kleenex will do also.