“Soldiering is the coward’s art of attacking mercilessly when you are strong, and keeping out of harm’s way when you are weak,” declares a fresh-from-battle Major Sergius Saranoff in George Bernard Shaw’s military comedy Arms and the Man. Having witnessed the harsh realities of life on the frontlines, the officer returns home with little more than dashed expectations of idealized heroism in Shaw’s reflection on the frivolousness of wars and the men who start them, playing in a safe production at Washington Stage Guild through Dec. 10.

The first moments of Arms and the Man finds Raina Petkoff (Em Whitworth), the scion of one of Bulgaria’s wealthiest families, and her mother, Catherine (Lynn Steinmetz), fantasizing about the recent military victories secured by Raina’s fiance, Sergius (Thomas Daniels), in an ongoing war against the Serbs. But the conflict soon reaches the Petkoffs’ doorstep. A fugitive Swiss mercenary from the Serbian army, Captain Bluntschli (Zack Powell), forcefully takes refuge in Raina’s bedroom, threatening to kill her if she discloses his hiding spot to the Bulgarians. As Raina defuses the fraught situation and engages with Bluntschli, he shares his ambivalence about war, power, and love. Their encounter and its ripple effects forces Raina to reconsider her rose-tinted worldview, not to mention her engagement to Sergius, and reflect on the revelations of her “chocolate-cream soldier” Bluntschli (called such in reference to his preference for storing candy, rather than bullets, in his munition pouch). But when a token of her affection ends up in the wrong hands, Raina and her mother must manipulate the daft soldiers in their household to save face and Raina’s future.

While the uninitiated could initially dismiss Arms and the Man’s light comedy as period trifle, it doesn’t take more than a cursory review of Shaw’s script to understand why his work has endured. Certainly he has a knack for holding a mirror to the foible-freckled face of polite society, but really his mastery is most evident in Arms and the Man’s tricksy style. While most ancient and modern dramatic examinations of militaristic hunger tend to take a darker tone, from William Shakespeare’s Richard III to Bertolt Brecht and Margarete Steffin’s Mother Courage and Her Children and Arthur Miller’s All My Sons, Shaw masterfully employs wit and absurdity to underscore the foolishness of his hawkish characters. And in this deceptive false frivolity of his play, he holds the potential to pack a mighty punch.

In the hands of director Michael Rothhaar, Washington Stage Guild’s practical production of Arms and the Man does little to stand in the way of Shaw’s writing. Where other companies strive to freshen up classic material through reinterpretation (such as Shakespeare Theatre Company’s upcoming production of the Bard’s As You Like It, cut with songs by The Beatles), the Guild’s Arms and the Man is as straightforward as it gets. Shaw’s work is, after all, their sweet spot—having produced more than three dozen full productions or readings of his work since their founding in 1986, according to the Guild’s website. Perhaps, after so many ventures into the man’s work, they’ve landed on the adage as old as the plays themselves: if it ain’t broke…

With relatively simple sets by Joseph B. Musumeci Jr., pragmatic lighting by Marianne Meadows, and satisfactory sound design by Marcus Darnley, the bulk of the technical flourishes are reserved for costume designer Cheryl Yancey. Embroidered aprons and sateen floral dresses add a welcome vibrancy to the stage, while evoking the folksiness of Shaw’s imagined Bulgaria.

And, for the most part, Rothhaar’s ensemble of actors rise to meet the challenge of balancing the comedy with the commentary. Whitworth anchors the competent cast in her polished Raina. She offers a well-earned arc from idealistic heiress to enlightened young woman. Steinmetz delivers the kind of commanding, cheeky performance that only a veteran performer could, never ceding her moments of focus or tossing away the cutting quips with which Shaw entrusts her character. And even in his comparatively small role as yearning servant Nicola, Nick DePinto makes the most of what he is given, leaving no question that the character’s dream of opening a shop in Sofia is anything short of inevitable. 

But even in this perfectly adequate production, there’s something left to be desired. In a time when the horrors of war pepper our screens, and military operations draw on over years and decades, does such a light treatment of conflict as a way for foolish men to fill their time still meet the moment? Even at his best (and he is darn good), does Shaw’s signature bite pierce deeply enough today? And while risky reinterpretations may accentuate the flaws or dated nature of classic plays, what effect do museum piece treatments have on the vitality of those same works?

In their careful stewardship of Arms and the Man, Washington Stage Guild’s production doesn’t leave much room for exploration of those questions. But as the most prolific producers of the Shavian canon in the Washington area, it’s hard to imagine a better group to open that door, take risks, and make the case for Shaw’s continual, timely relevance. In the absence of such exploration, the work runs an existential, reputational risk of relegation to “chocolate-cream theater.”

George Bernard Shaw’s Arms and the Man, directed by Michael Rothhaar, runs through Dec. 10 at Washington Stage Guild. stageguild.org. $50–$60.