inishmore1 This play is not intended for those audiences who are easily offended.

This sign, which also warns of loud gunshots and gore, is posted all over the foyer of the Studio at the Long Beach Playhouse. Amusingly, you see it only after you’ve paid your admission fee, although I’m sure they’d give you a refund if you were scared off.

But if you’ve bought your tickets knowing a little something about playwright Martin McDonagh’s “The Lieutenant of Inishmore,” cursing, gore, and other offenses are what you’re bloody well counting on.

On isle of Inishmore, Davey has found Wee Thomas dead in the road, having met a violent end. As we learn from Donny, Wee Thomas was a cat, his son Padriac’s pet from the age of 5—and the growing boy’s only friend for these last 15 years. This is rather problematic, considering that Padriac has grown into a murderous lieutenant in the INLA (an IRA splinter group), the kind of lad who plants bombs in chips shops simply because they’re less well-guarded than soldiers’ barracks.

What ensues is a grisly farce, an admixture of violence and laughs that has been popularized over the last two decades by Quentin Tarantino, et al. That “Lieutenant” received a 2006 Tony Award nomination for Best Play testifies as to how palatable such a seemingly incongruous combo plate has become to mainstream theatergoers.

The idea of laughing at torture and murder (albeit theatrical) may be stomach-turning for some, and Long Beach Playhouse’s “Lieutenant” does shock—but gently, both because of how blithely McDonagh presents his (often quite funny) dialog, and because Long Beach Playhouse’s gore gets the point across while always seeming pretend.

Technically, “Lieutenant” is probably more effective if its blood and guts look as real as possible. (Think about the extra edge your laughter had during some of the horrific violence of “Reservoir Dogs” or “Inglorious Basterds” precisely because the humor is juxtaposed against such violent verisimilitude.) But even if Long Beach Playhouse is logistically unable to deliver on this level, again, the point is made; the squirm factor is there, particularly during the finale.

But the play is the people and the situations they’re in, and Long Beach Playhouse scores highly in this category. Patrick Rieger gives Padriac a dim-witted, psychopathic charm necessary for him to be more than simply a minacia ex machina. John Gilbert (Donny) and Devon Armstrong (Davey) are a fine comedy duo, with Gilbert’s dryly humorous nonchalance playing perfectly against Armstrong’s constantly nonplussed daftness. Jannese Davidson as Davey’s 16-year-old sister with big dreams of enlisting with Padriac as both paramour and paramilitant comes across as simultaneously naïve, rugged, feminine, and funny.

The tight confines of the Studio obviously limit the action in a play like “Lieutenant,” and the green exit signs to the audience’s left glow way too brightly throughout. But there’s no denying the Long Beach Playhouse goes far to provide an enjoyable theatergoing experience, with comfortable seating, pre-show piano-bar entertainment, and complimentary coffee and cookies during intermission.

Of course, none of that matters if the play stinks. But “The Lieutenant of Inishmore” certainly doesn’t stink. It is effective as both a violent comedy of errors and a satire on the thrall of the chain of horrors committed in the name of freeing Ireland from English rule.

 THE LIEUTENANT OF INISHMORE LONG BEACH PLAYHOUSE • 5021 E ANAHEIM ST • LONG BEACH 90804 • 562.494.1014 LBPLAYHOUSE.ORG • THURS-SAT 8PM, SUN 2PM • $22; $20 FOR SENIORS; $12 FOR STUDENTS • THROUGH FEBRUARY 12