NEW YORK — The barricades still hold.

It's been around for some two decades now, but "Les Miserables," the sprawling musical adaptation of Victor Hugo's epic novel about good and evil, revolution and romance, retains its power to entertain and move an audience.

What stands out most forcefully in this revival, which opened Thursday at the Broadhurst Theatre, is its clarity of story and song. The show, which only ended its original Broadway run in 2003, has returned with a sterling cast and new orchestrations (by Christopher Jahnke) that allow the lyrics of the sung-through musical to be heard pretty much in their entirety.

Don't expect a radical reinterpretation of the show, though. Most of its original collaborators, including co-director John Caird and the first design team, are back. Yet the Broadhurst is a smaller theater than the Broadway and the Imperial, the two houses where "Les Miserables" played during its initial New York run.

So there is an unexpected feeling of intimacy to the sweeping story of Jean Valjean. He is the moral center of Hugo's historical tale, which is set in early 19th-century France. "Intimate" may be not be the first word to come to mind when you think of "Les Miserables," yet there is a closeness to the people on stage in this production that makes the rapid-fire unfolding of events all the more vivid.

That closeness puts an additional pressure on the cast, but these folks handle the proximity to the audience with considerable skill. Alexander Gemignani is a credible, heartfelt Jean Valjean, unjustly imprisoned and a man on the run for much of life. If he has to work hard to hit those high notes in his big number, "Bring Him Home," Gemignani nevertheless is secure in what is one of the most demanding roles in musical theater.

As Inspector Javert, Valjean's persistent nemesis, Norm Lewis is exceptional — icy in his portrayal of the villain's determination and yet careful not to turn the man into a snarling caricature.

The supporting cast has been chosen with care. The most startling, some might say problematic, is Daphne Rubin-Vega, who delivers a breathy, very modern interpretation of Fantine. She's the dying prostitute whose daughter, Cosette, is raised by Valjean. Rubin-Vega's voice has a raspy, tremulous quality that, coupled with her fine acting, effectively conveys the woman's doom.

Even better is Celia Keenan-Bolger, a touching, vulnerable Eponine, the "other woman" in the love triangle that involves Cosette (Ali Ewoldt) and that fervent student Marius (Adam Jacobs). To their credit, Ewoldt and Jacobs are able to inject personality into these impassioned lovers, the most formulaic roles in the musical.