Shucked, a new Broadway musical that delighted audiences in New York in 2023, arrived in San Francisco this week on its first national tour, and it's a genuinely funny, light-hearted treat of a show in an old-timey vein.

There was a time when musicals on Broadway were mostly sweet and sappy confections, generally hinging on a love story, and reliably delivering a happy ending after some requisite, farcical misunderstanding or mishap. Then came things like Hair, Company, Sunday in the Park With George, Rent, Hamilton, and all the other shows that have mixed up and reimagined what a musical could be.

Each season on Broadway in recent years, in addition to the jukebox crowdpleasers and revivals of perennial favorites, there have been noble fresh attempts at breaking and rearranging the form. And then, every so often, there are wholly new musicals that come along that are sticking to the formula, and doing so with humor and catchy tunes, and Shucked is exactly that.

Conceived by playwright Robert Horn in a pandemic rewrite of his previous Moonshine: The Hee-Haw Musical, Shucked is an absurd modern fairy tale with a country-music variety show's soul. And I do not exaggerate when I say that nearly every other line is a punny joke, often in the dad-joke genre, though also very often bawdy or outright lewd.

The character of Peanut is introduced early on, and he seems plucked right out of Hee-Haw or Laugh-In, with his main purpose to get a spotlight shone on him when he speaks, usually to deliver a succession of three groan-worthy, punny jokes along the lines of "I just passed a giant squirrel, but I don't remember eating one."

Shucked is narrated by two winsome "storytellers," played gamely and delightfully by Maya Lagerstam and Bay Area native — and TikTok and Instagram's favorite former theater kid — Tyler Joseph Ellis. And the story they tell is of Cob County, a tiny place in an unnamed state which has, as in a fable, walled itself off from the outside world by rows and rows of corn.

The town is in trouble, because the corn crop is in trouble, and seems to be diseased or something. A young woman named Maizy (of course), takes it upon herself to leave Cob County to go to the "big city," which, inexplicably for this show, is Tampa. And she brings back a charlatan and mostly failed con artist named Gordy (Quinn Vanantwerp) who claims he can fix the corn problem — though he actually sees a windfall for himself in some precious or semi-precious stones that seem to be all over in this mysterious corn town. If this starts to sound like The Music Man, that's probably on purpose.

As Maizy, Danielle Wade is plucky and hilarious, as is Jake Odmark as her dumb and handsome fiance Beau, and both show off some strong vocal chops before Act 1 is through with their songs "Woman of the World" and "Somebody Will." The showstopping number of Act 1, though, belongs to Lulu the local whisky distiller, the role that won a first Tony Award for Alex Newell, played very capably here by Miki Abraham — with a stellar belt that does the song, "Independently Owned," justice.

The score, by country music writers Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally, shows a deft understanding of musical-theater storytelling as well as a firm allegiance to melody — and Americana-inspired harmonies — that keeps the audience's attention throughout.

Shucked was directed by Broadway veteran Jack O'Brien, who has directed everything from Hairspray to the The Full Monty to the recent two-person play The Roommate, starring Patti LuPone and Mia Farrow. And the show vibrates with the confident energy that comes from that wealth of experience. The choreography by Sarah O'Gleby is also energetic in all the right places, culminating a mens-only barn dance number in Act 2, "Best Man Wins."

While it feels like politics, and all the ugliness and tension of our current moment, are inescable, a show like Shucked provides a welcome antidote and escape. The show maintains an apolitical air, save a couple of jokes about diversity and the line from Peanut, "I think politicians are like diapers. They should be changed regularly, and for the same reason."

That leaves space for the audience to collectively groan, or guffaw, at every last dumb joke.

'Shucked' plays through October 5th at the Curran. Find tickets here.