Things are seldom what they seem. Take the wondrous case of Pinafore!, which opened on Saturday night at the Wings Theatre, in the West Village, New York.

Note carefully, please, the punctuation of the title. That exclamation point is crucial. Note that the customary modifier, HMS, is conspicuously absent. This isn't Gilbert and Sullivan's melodic tale of the lass who loved a sailor. This is a loving update about a lad who loves a sailor. It's a lusty lampoon of a Victorian satire, music by Sullivan, words mostly by the clever adapter-director Mark Savage. It's a splendidly silly concoction about the flagship of the outrageously gay navy, docked in arid Palm Springs, California. Don't ask. Don't tell.