When the house lights went down and the stage lights went up, making transparent the scrim between the two, the audience at Crafton-Preyer Theatre was drawn at once into the eccentric world of the Vanderhof-Sycamore household. Guest director Kim Hines remained faithful to the script, but playfully altered the characters.

Ed and Essie become an appealing gay couple (Ed and Jessie); Boris Kolenkhov is now Natasha Kolenkhov; the cook Rheba and her boyfriend Donald have been transformed from black to white; while Ed Carmichael and the pixilated Gay Wellington are switched from white to black. The message comes through: The characters are what they do, regardless of race or sex. Throughout most of the evening, the stage is a maelstrom of activity, expressing lives fully lived, as scene after scene is filled with simultaneous dancing, typing, xylophone playing, printing, fireworks, singing, painting, posing, whittling and more.

Leslie Long and Drew Fowler are the somewhat star-crossed lovers Alice and Tony, their families more different than Montagues and Capulets. Both roles are difficult, as Tony must be both infatuated and earnest, while Alice must manage believably to love both her quirky family and her conventional fiance. Leslie does particularly well at conveying the tension of her character’s position, moving through difficulties with nervous brightness; and she throws a fine fit in Act III.

Ashley Lafond turns in a splendid performance as the sweetly daffy Penelope, hostess of the madcap household. In her hands, Penny’s good-hearted stark inappropriateness feels totally credible. Her husband Paul, played by Justin Knudsen, similarly makes his division of time between paterfamilias and fireworks R&D seem quite natural. Grandpa Vanderhof is nicely played by Adam Burnett, whose elderly walk and voice and economical gestures are quite convincing.

But Evan Grosshans as Jessie, the Sycamores’ gay son, steals every scene he appears in. As swish as one could wish, he doesn’t have to practice his ballet steps to draw everyone’s attention; he’s irresistible just standing in the background, giggling and fluttering his hands. His partner Ed, playing “Beethoven” on his xylophone or printing Trotskyite leaflets on his little press, is appealingly rendered by Brandon Ford.

Courtney Schweitzer plays Rheba, her diction and actions tuned to a perfect Aunt Jemima pitch in a wonderful send-up of stereotypes. Erin Burns gives a commanding performance as the imperious Natasha Kolenkhov, her Russian accent convincing as she punctuates her magisterial pronouncements with thumps of her walking stick. Lawrence Henderson is creditable as the hapless Mr. DePinna.

Dianne-Yvette Cook does a hilarious turn as the drunken Gay Wellington, weaving and stumbling with great dignity when not passed out on the couch. Jonathan Matteson broadly sketches a giggly and ineffectual IRS agent. And Alex Haynes and Kate Hurley as Mr. and Mrs. Kirby serve as believable sacrificial lambs on this altar of unconventionality.

Costumes by Sandy Appleoff are a dazzling display of color and originality, befitting these characters as well as the times. Delbert Unruh has designed yet another stunning set, its curtained alcoves and diamond leaded windows conveying the richness and mystery of the lives lived within. Lighting by Anna Wieczorek and Unruh is effective and nicely delineates day and night by the sunlight and moonlight shining through the windows and front door. Christopher Wheatley as voice/diction/dialect coach had his hands full with the array of voices representing age, race, nationality and sexual orientation.

“You Can’t Take It With You,” written in 1936, still asks audiences if it’s worth it to work hard and be a success, or if self-fulfillment is more important. See the play and decide for yourself.