NEW YORK (AP) ¿ If there's any role Kevin Kline seems born to play, it's Cyrano de Bergerac, the long-nosed poet of panache and furious swordplay.

There's an innate physicality to the actor, something that was apparent in his first Tony Award-winning performance ("On the Twentieth Century") and reconfirmed in his second (the 1981 revival of "The Pirates of Penzance"). Linguistically, Kline is no slouch either as anyone who saw him as a delightfully hedonistic Falstaff in the Lincoln Center Theater revival of "Henry IV" can second.

So it's no surprise, the actor captures both the physical and verbal qualities of Edmond Rostand's hero in Anthony Burgess' spirited adaptation of "Cyrano de Bergerac'', now on view at Broadway's Richard Rodgers Theatre.

Yet the production itself is not as lively as it should be, despite the best efforts of director David Leveaux to corral a large cast as it romances and swashbuckles its way through 17th-century France.

Emotion infuses this "Cyrano'', the quintessential tale of unrequited love: Cyrano is in love with his beautiful cousin Roxane, who, in turn, only has eyes for the handsome, if dunderheaded Christian.

A tear or two should be shed at the play's heartbreaking conclusion, but this revival leaves one curiously dry-eyed.

Quite a puzzlement, considering Kline's formidable technique. Maybe it's because the man can't do it alone. "Cyrano de Bergerac'', after all, is a love triangle. And Kline has to hold up all three points.

A gorgeous Jennifer Garner, as the object of Cyrano's adoration, finds little nuance in her portrayal of Roxane. Shading may come in time, but right now, the actress seems stuck in a one-note performance, mostly in the broad-stroke key of determined. The same could be said for Daniel Sunjata's workmanlike portrayal of Christian.

Both performers deliver their lines dutifully, without much awareness of the poetic nature of the language.

Other cast members fare better, most notably Chris Sarandon as the initially villainous Comte de Guiche.

His sneer gives way to friendship by the time the play reaches its climactic convent death scene.

It's that moment that should release the waterworks. Here, it's curiously muted, even as the realisation of true love unfolds and life slips away.

That said, the production can't help have some moments of fun ¿ particularly when Cyrano is dispatching a most persistent competitor while, at the same time, composing poetry, or his coaching of the tongue-tied Christian as the young man pursues the fair Roxane.

That balcony scene never fails to bring out the theatricality of Rostand's melodrama.

A sense of melodrama has also been captured in Tom Pye's rich set design. A striking blue curtain swirls across the stage between scenes on the large Rodgers stage, a theater that usually houses musicals. And Pye has put a staircase across the back of the playing area, with actors scurrying up and down, particularly in moments of dramatic heat.

Gregory Gale's ornate, historically correct costumes (check out Sarandon's final elaborate outfit) and Don Holder's lighting design add much to the atmosphere of the piece. Yet for real theatrical authenticity, you don't have to look any farther than Kline. He pretty much has to carry the play's emotional fireworks all by himself.