If by the end of the first act of “The Art Room” you’re wondering what the heck is going on, you’ve certainly been paying attention: Part daytime soap opera, part Marx Brothers romp, part “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” “The Art Room” is more than a little crazy.

The Funky Little Theater Co. production runs through May 21.

Writer/lyricist Billy Aronson, who came up with the original idea for “Rent,” wrote “The Art Room” as a riff on a George Feydeau farce. Set in a mental ward, everyone is looking for something, although no one seems to know exactly what that is. To be loved, though (and maybe to love back), seems like a reasonable preoccupation.

The action is grounded in the relationship of patients Jon (Chris Medina) and Jackie (Michelle Pantle), who were an item at one time. But Jon’s been seeing other residents, much to Jackie’s unhappiness. Other characters coalesce around them, including a new resident (Emma Colligan), her philandering husband (Luke Schoenemann), a depressed ward nurse (Delaney Hallauer) and a genial patient named Thomas (Dylan McClintock), whose dream life is his chief topic of conversation.

On opening night, McClintock stole the show.

His Thomas, who bears a slight resemblance to Bill Murray’s greenskeeper in “Caddyshack,” is innocent, good natured and silly, dumb and gently unhinged – but utterly human, utterly believable throughout. He fully inhabits Thomas, which made the authentic emotional moments truer (and there are some) and the punchlines funnier (there are plenty of those).

Of course, that’s one of the challenges farce poses for the director and actor: Finding the humanity at the core of all the nonsense. And getting there makes everything so much richer.

Unfortunately, the rest of director Taylor Geiman’s cast isn’t quite there yet.

A comedian at heart, Medina pulls off zany ably. And he has some nice moments, including a scene in which he instructs different body parts on how to behave with a potential conquest. But he’s self-conscious, playing a role – with considerable shtick – rather than becoming a character.

Likewise, Hallauer, Pantle and Colligan – but without the physical humor.

Schoenemann is appealing but too youthful for the role of Art, a 24/7 businessman who talks more to his cellphone and micro tape recorder than to any of the other characters in the play. Art needs an edge, which puts his downfall in the play’s ridiculous third act into humorous context. No edge here.