theunderpants When you think about it, Steve Martin never really was “a wild and crazy guy.” Lenny Bruce, Andy Kaufman, Howard Stern . . . for better or for worse, those guys are a different breed.

Martin, rather, has always been, if unable to inspire passion, easy to like. His stand-up was wacky but safe, and you’d have to search far and wide to find a film he’s in that Mom and Dad couldn’t bring the kids to: The Jerk, All of Me, Roxanne, Parenthood, you name it. LA. Story is about as risqué as he gets.

I can’t begin to guess at why Martin tried his hand at play adaptation, but since he has, The Underpants is just about what I’d have expected.

This lite fare is Martin’s version of Die Hose, a farce that probably didn’t rise to the level of cutting-edge satire even when it debuted in 1910 Germany, never mind now, when it’s positively quaint.

The Underpants is the simple story of what happens when a woman standing at her window to watch the king pass by suffers a “wardrobe malfunction” (not a phrase that makes its way into the script). Although no skin is seen—her knickers fall off beneath her dress—as her husband says, “Flesh speaks to men from under” any amount or sort of clothing. “Don’t underestimate the power of lingerie.”

A string of sausage jokes in the play’s opening scene gives you a taste of the 90 minutes of humor that’s to come: familiar, digestible, not very spicy.

If the play has anything on beneath its habiliments, it’s a petticoat of a theme having something to do with the ephemerality of the sensational, worn with a mismatched shift on the subject of female power in a time when women were an institutional underclass.

But if you’re going to the theatre because it’s Steve Martin, you’re probably not going for substance, but simply to have a light laugh, and I suppose The Underpants is successful enough on that score. Certainly the Long Beach Playhouse peeps serve up what’s there to be served.

Director Craig Fleming has assembled a cast that gives each character a distinct flavor—just what the recipe calls for. That none of the characters has any real dimension—save, perhaps, Louise (Maranda Barskey), in whom we see a hint of growth as she tastes the possibility of her power—seems to be by design.

For me the play had only one big laugh (in a sort of punch line to the entire play) and a few chuckles, but the audience I saw it with found it quite a bit funnier than that. Will you? How the hell do I know?

One thing I can tell you for sure: there’s no reason here to get your panties in a bunch.

THE UNDERPANTS LONG BEACH PLAYHOUSE • 5021 E ANAHEIM ST • LONG BEACH 90804 • 562.494.1014 LBPLAYHOUSE.ORG • THURS-SAT 8PM, SUN 2PM • $24; $21 FOR SENIORS; $14 FOR STUDENTS • THROUGH SEPTEMBER 10