Most theatergoers have a passing acquaintance with Anton Chekhov’s characters — that interminably suffering lot of 19th century Russian aristocrats and the even quirkier peasant folk that attend to their angst. If they could only get to Moscow, things would be so much better. There’s that cantankerous uncle, Vanya somebody or other, Sonia of the long sighs, Masha with the unquenchable libido, and Spike. Spike? What’s wrong with this picture? Simply put, absolutely nothing.

In Christopher Durang’s loony homage to the Russian master, transferred to Broadway following a sold out run at Lincoln Center, nothing makes sense, nor should it. Oh, there’s regret aplenty in Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike — mostly from putty-faced sister Sonia, languishing on her Bucks County, Pa. terrace with stoop-shouldered brother Vanya for company, waiting (there’s a lot of waiting in Chekhov) for the arrival of Masha, their oft-absent movie star sibling. “We are in our twilight years and we have never lived,” exclaims Sonia with a proper measure of pathos, but then she proclaims in the same breath, “I am a wild turkey.” (That’s a line of Nina’s from The Seagull for all the Chekhov neophytes in the audience.) And that’s when the laughs begin in earnest. In Kristine Nielsen’s brilliantly farcical delivery, we know we’re in the presence of comic genius and we can just sit back and split a few ribs before the evening’s done.

Masha (Sigourney Weaver) shows up with all the subtlety of Gloria Swanson’s Norma Desmond, with a new pecs-and-abs popping boy toy, Spike (Billy Magnussen). He’s got plenty to flaunt and don’t think that Vanya hasn’t noticed it in his own underplayed fashion. But there’s nothing remotely subtle in Durang’s universe. In David Hyde Pierce’s spot-on portrayal, Vanya’s morbid civility will soon turn into a lunatic’s invective against the entire modern world.

Lunacy in all its manifestations prevails. Shalita Grant as Cassandra the maid scrambles and screeches her way from one end of the proscenium to the other, carrying portents of doom on the house. She has a particularly nasty vendetta against Masha, which she carries out to great effectiveness by sticking pins in a tiny doll decked out in a Snow White costume. There’s no point in trying to decipher the plot — you may as well cut up the pieces, put them in a snow globe and shake to your heart’s content.

But where does Snow White figure in the picture, you might ask? The rumor of Masha’s homecoming has spread like wildfire around the neighborhood and, not surprisingly, Masha and her siblings have been invited to a costume party. Sonia and Vanya are coerced by their sister as the less-than-white Disney heroine into playing second-fiddle dwarfs to this sibling, but Sonia will have none of it. She will find her own costume, thank you very much. Though we are never privy to the party itself, the before and after is hilarious enough. Suffice it to say that Sonia’s costume is a show-stopper as is Sonia. When she appears as the Evil Queen, in the guise of Maggie Smith on her way to the Oscars, you can hear the rib-cracking laughter from the orchestra pit to the rafters.

Nina, as played charmingly by a pale, willowy Genevieve Angelson, is a starry-eyed neighbor who early appears on the scene. Later, in this farcical enterprise, she will willingly take a part in one of Vanya’s attempts at playwriting. Stardom, however, is hardly in the cards for this ingénue, cast as she is as a non-assuming molecule.

There are other plot twists, of course, not the least Masha’s intention to sell the family estate out from under her two siblings’ feet. But all is not lost. Sonia receives a post-party phone call from a potential suitor that may or may not lead to a brighter outcome — another comic turn for this actress who deserves all the best from this playwright’s pen and gets it.

And what of Sigourney Weaver’s Masha, you ask? It’s not easy to play the vain, egocentric famous sister to two consummate clowns like Nielsen and Pierce. Weaver has tackled some formidable roles on screen (Aliens, Gorillas in the Mist, Ice Storm and others) and more than a smattering of nominations and prizes for film and stage portrayals. Here, she holds the stage with a commanding enough presence, and makes a valiant attempt to bring a light touch to the role, especially when lusting after the preening Spike. We believe her haughtiness at finding herself in such mundane surroundings — but let’s face it, the way she’s been written, Masha is the real evil queen in this story and not Sonia. You can’t blame us for rooting for the underdogs.

Director Nicholas Martin understands how to create a vaudeville-like hilarity with a Noel Coward sophistication underlying the buffoonery. Making sense out of nonsense is no easy task and he has met the challenge.

Set designer David Korins has created a perfect A-frame field stone country manor as a backdrop to the hijinks. It’s enough that the exposed staircase for Masha’s forays with Spike, or the entrance hall for the mad servant girl’s comings and goings, are delineated for our off-stage imaginations. Emily Rebholz’s costumes provide us with the before and after transformations that fit the absurdity of the situation, particularly in the case of Sonia’s queen get-up and Vanya’s Disney-inspired dwarf.

Do the characters demand our attention? Do we feel the bitter sweetness of their compromised lives? Do we accept their mortal attempts at existence? Yes. Is it a play? Well, that’s up to the audience. What’s important is that for a couple of hours, we can lose ourselves in the happy make-believe of a playwright who has put laughs above sorrows. And sometimes that’s enough.

“Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike” is currently playing (through June 30th, 2013) at the Golden Theatre in New York City, located at 252 West 45th Street, between Broadway and 8th Avenue. Ticket information for the production can be accessed by visiting Telecharge.com or by calling 212-239-6200.

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Featured image: L-R: David Hyde Pierce, Sigourney Weaver, Kristine Nielsen, and Billy Magnussen in “Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike.” Photo Credit: Carol Rosegg.