Let’s face it: No one’s ever going to put this work on the list of Shakespeare’s great comedies. Still, apart from the requisite head-scratching required by the Bard’s grammar, there’s not much deep thought to be wasted at this year’s free Shakespeare-in-the-Park program, the sixth annual summertime treat presented by the Syracuse Shakespeare Festival. If the weather cooperates, the crowds happily sprawled across the huge lawn at Thornden Park’s amphitheater are at liberty to enjoy Shakespeare as the host of a big family party.

Director Jamie Bruno has appropriately staged what is arguably the silliest of Shakespeare’s plays as a sort of Three Stooges extravaganza, shamelessly stealing moves from the playbook of Curly, Larry and Moe, with a little bit of Shemp thrown in for good luck. And why not? Shakespeare did a hefty bit of stealing himself, lifting the plot of The Comedy of Errors from a couple of Roman plays. In turn, Errors has inspired a number of other shows, among them The Boys From Syracuse with its lovely Rodgers and Hart score and badly dated book, and the hip-hop musical The Bomb-itty of Errors, mounted last spring by Syracuse Stage.

Like many of the Bard’s comedies, The Comedy of Errors begins with a shipwreck. Two sets of infant twins, the sons of the merchant Egeon and the sons of his slave, are separated in the confusion. Egeon rescues one of his boys, named Antipholus, and the slave child Dromio, taking them home to that other Syracuse—the one in Sicily. The other two, also named Antipholus and Dromio, end up in Ephesus, where they grow up, somehow maintaining the master-slave relationship. When the Syracusans show up in Ephesus searching for their long-lost siblings, they run afoul of the good citizens of that city—among them the other Antipholus’ formidable wife, Adriana, and her sister Luciana.

At Thornden Park, the pre-show activities take on a Renaissance faire ambience, with actors wandering about the green enthusiastically working the audience. Once on stage, the cast throws itself into the play with wild abandon. Even when jokes occasionally fall flat, the comic bits are executed with such gusto that all is quickly forgiven. Throw around enough pratfalls, nose-twisting and ear-pulling, and some of it is bound to stick.

The Antipholi are not the most likable of Shakespeare’s heroes; they’re just too ready to beat a slave or visit a courtesan. Basil Allen (as the Syracusan) and Gabriel Infantino (from Ephesus) do their best to make each Antipholus sympathetic. Pulling off the neatest trick of the show, they actually manage to look and act like twins, moving easily between wounded confusion and easy caddishness.

As presented here, the Dromios are two sides of a coin. In what is a literal running gag, Matt Nilsen’s Dromio of Syracuse spends most of his time speeding across the stage and across the grass. When he stops to catch a breath and land some of the production’s best gags, he still manages a sunny smile. As the grumpier Dromio of Ephesus, J. Brazill specializes in the irritated slow burn. Threatened with mayhem by his boss, he’s not so much fearful of his master’s wrath as resentful of the effort he has to make to avoid it.

Karis Wiggins’ Adriana is a wife in comic crisis. Understanding that this is not a role calling for subtlety, Wiggins squeals in frustration, her hands moving like an eggbeater, as she pouts, stamps, snorts and sighs with such exquisite histrionics that she makes us wonder what kind of hilarious hell this Punch-and-Judy marriage must be. She’s ably set up by Rachelle Clavin as a comely Luciana, although not enough is made of Antipholus of Syracuse’s seemingly incestuous advances to her.

The indefatigable Binaifer Dabu makes the best possible sense of her wacky conjurer Dr. Pinch, which is to say no sense at all. She’s a delightful barrel of laughs for her five minutes on stage, reminding us that Errors should be truly freewheeling fun detached from any redeeming logic. As the hapless merchant Egeon, Paul Gundersen does yeoman work in the long opening monologue that lays out the sad situation, making the plot clear enough for even the many children in attendance. Alan Stillman also gives able support as the goldsmith Angelo.

Abetted by Karel Blakeley’s simple set of tie-dyed sheets stretched over scaffolds, director Bruno makes good use of the amphitheater’s huge stage, which has proved problematic in previous summers. No problems this year, however. Judging from the gleeful reactions from Thornden Park’s lawn chair-picnic basket bunch, the Shakespeare-in-the-Park production of The Comedy of Errors proves that this dog-days program has the makings of an enduring Syracuse (not the one in Sicily) tradition.

With perhaps the Syracuse Shakespeare Festival's strongest Shakespeare-in-the-Park cast ever, the current production of "The Comedy of Errors," seen at Wednesday's dress rehearsal, is a hearty, easy-going delight.

Under Jamie Bruno's direction, the acting styles are big but effortless, riding in grand style through the play's abundant humor -- perfect for the reaches of Thornden Park Amphitheatre. It's a big help that the Festival's sound system picks up voices with nuance and richness.

Barbara Toman's costume designs are colorful, and don't interfere with rough-and-tumble comedy.

Karel Blakeley's set creates the bright buildings of a seaport town -- all substantial, but just fanciful enough to match the disorienting events that are about to strike a town with long-settled ways.

Tony Bersani as a rigorous but compassionate Duke of Ephesus, and Paul Gunderson as helpless old Egeon, command the first scene, doing superb work with characters often scanted. Gunderson is the Syracusan searching for his family, but sentenced to death for landing in Ephesus, a hostile city.

Shakespeare sets up a far-fetched but effective framework for his farce. Unknown to Egeon, his sons, both named Antipholus, are now in Ephesus at the same time without knowing it. So are their servants, both named Dromio. So just a few criss-crossings of identity are enough to set up tsunami waves that shake the whole town.

Far from being a silly exercise in plot twists, "Comedy" is one of the most poignant of farces, and the actors clearly know how to reach for deep emotions. Adriana (Karis Wiggins) truly loves her errant husband, Antipholus Ephesus (Gabriel Infantino), and she and her sister Luciana (Rachelle Clavin) argue about what to do.

In one powerful scene, Adriana pours her heart out as she beseeches her husband to help her save their marriage. Of course, it's the wrong man. "I know you not," says a flummoxed Antipholus Syracuse (Basil Allen).

Bruno gets a lot of funny shtick going, but unfortunately chooses to burden several of the most moving scenes with idle shtick that distracts actors and audience from key lines. Adriana and Luciana's first sisterly argument, for example, cuts deep, but Bruno has the two women talk while they scuffle pointlessly over an outsized joint of meat.

As the two Dromios, Matt Nilsen (Syracuse) and J. Brazill (Ephesus) ably carry much of the really funny slapstick humor. Other fine performers include Binaifer Dabu (a wacky Dr. Pinch, and later Emilia), Lisa Rood (pouty, mercenary Courtesan), Alan Stillman (Angelo the Goldsmith) and Grace Wagner (Balthasar).