Part violent Western and part zany farce, Flaming Guns of the Purple Sage, now running at Theatre Three, is a devilishly dark comedy by Jane Martin. Unlike most traditional Westerns, Martin’s play features wildly independent women who call the shots manipulating the men who are dumb as dirt. And though the production starts sluggishly, there are some rewarding and hilarious moments after the play gets going.

Set in present-day Wyoming, the Flaming Guns tells the story of Big 8 (Gene Raye Price), a retired rodeo star, who is trying to keep her home from being foreclosed on. Living with Big 8 is Rob Bob (Justin Vorpahl), a young rising rodeo star who is more like Gomer Pyle than the Western movie stars he admires. Things become complicated when Shedevil (Emily Jackson) – she won’t give her real name – shows up claiming to be pregnant with the child of Big 8′s nefarious son, Lucifer Lee. Unfortunately for Shedevil, her Ukrainian biker boyfriend, Black Dog, is hunting her down, and he’s mad. When Black Dog shows up at the end of act one, chaos ensues as the story morphs into a perfect farce. In the second act, we are thrust into a hilarious and bloody scenario as Big 8′s sister, Shirl (Sally Soldo), helps clean up the mess.

Terry Dobson directs this production with high speed and zaniness, though the first act feels clumsy, the problem is perhaps more the fault of the play itself than that of the performers. The first act is needed to introduce the characters and set up the insanity that reigns in act two. Unfortunately, that is all it does. Thankfully, act two is worth the wait.

Though there were signs of inexperience in some of the younger actors (some line fumbling and lack of timing), there were some admirable performances. To be sure, Gene Raye Price as Big 8 and Sally Soldo as Shirl are a perfect comic duo. Their matter-of-fact and unabashed handling of blood and death is reminiscent of Arsenic and Old Lace, the classic Joseph Kesselring play that features two elderly women who murder and bury men in the basement of their Brooklyn home. Raye Price evokes images of Calamity Jane or Annie Oakley in her boisterous performance.

Justin Volpahl plays Rob Bob in the tradition of that great American comic character – the country bumpkin. Rob Bob is dumb like Gomer Pyle on The Andy Griffith Show or Kenneth on 30 Rock. But Volpahl often plays up the dumb without the requisite balance of sincerity, and so we don’t really care about the character. By contrast, Baxter Blue (Dan Ramsey), a deputy and the boyfriend of Shirl, is a perfectly naïve boyscout. Ramsey strikes a fine balance between sincerity and idiocy. Emily Jackson as Shedevil looks like a ’90s goth teen thanks to costumer designer Bruce Coleman. Jackson’s energy is at times too unfocused, though, and could have been reigned in even for this sort of comedy.

Overall, the show succeeds, but you have to wait for it.