I read Liz Duffy Adams' script Or, (the comma is part of the show title) a few months ago, when I admired rather than enjoyed it. I couldn't visualize all its chaotic comings and goings. As with any sex farce, it turns out Or, has to be seen to be fully appreciated.

It highlights three historical personages I knew little about. The noblest (ostensibly) is Charles II, first English Restoration king and nemesis of 17th-century Catholics. The second, Nell Gwynne, was one of the first women ever allowed to act on the English stage - and King Chuck's favorite mistress. Finally, there's our protagonist, Aphra Behn, not only the first professional, female, English playwright but also a pretty damn good one. I say "finally," but that's not exactly the case; because although Royal Academy of Dramatic Art grad Kate Kraay portrays only Behn, the other two cast members turn up in additional roles to further the story. Farce is a comical sequence of slamming doors, so watching Adams and director Scot Whitney slam these actors around the stage and into and out of costume becomes invigoratingly amusing.

The plot requires some time to set up. See, there are rumors of impending regicide, and Behn's been canoodling with Charles so she'd like to keep him breathing. The rumors center around potential assassin William Scott, but Behn's been intimate with him, too. Seattleite James Weidman plays both Charles and Scott, plus a surprise character who breezes onstage to a.) commission a new play from Behn, b.) deliver a lengthy comic monologue, and c.) incite the intermission. Amy Shephard, meanwhile, plays not only Gwynne but also a gruff jailer (perhaps not so convincing, given her diminutive size) and Behn's assistant Maria (first-rate and stinkin' hysterical). Both juggle difficult accents with admirable facility.

There's plenty of smooching and sex talk in Harlequin Production's Or, as its primary characters are what the English of their time label "libertines." We'd more likely call them swingers or (in a praiseworthy turn of phrase popularized by Easton and Hardy in 1997) "ethical sluts." The show becomes a highbrow reflection of that inexplicably cherished 1970s sitcom, Three's Company, in which pansexual hijinks were always on the other side of any closed door.

I question Whitney's decision to stage Or,'s first 25 minutes in front of a curtain, but it doesn't sink the show and establishes a jail cell in a ten-dollar gobo effect. Monique Anderson's costumes are historically accurate, attractive, and (by necessity) easy to remove. The audience caught the vibe of the show quickly and tracked with it throughout. I was thrown by Act II's final tech surprise, but my wife declared it "cool" so I guess I shouldn't quibble. In short, Or, does exactly what it needs to: it keeps us following the action, rooting for hot-panted heroines, and grinning at witty bons mots.

HARLEQUIN PRODUCTIONS, OR, THROUGH FEB. 16, 8 P.M. THURSDAY-SATURDAY, 2 P.M. SUNDAY, $20-$38, 202 FOURTH AVE. E., OLYMPIA, 360.786.0151