Reversing gender is a sure-fire way to add levity to a play – a man dressed as a woman is somehow always funny. But in the best of circumstances it also serves a deeper purpose than simple humor.

Gender swapping can expand how audiences view gender roles, or shed new light on sex-based issues. Shakespeare's“Taming of the Shrew,” for example, is a common choice for switching gender, since directors can offer different perspectives on or new ways to play with the comedy’s much ballyhooed misogyny.

But in Poor Players’ “As You Like It,” the gender reversal seems to serve no greater purpose than comedy – and therefore seems an unnecessary gimmick. This bare-bones Shakespeare production would be funny and appealing without the reversal, so it’s unclear why director Julie Clemmons chose to produce the play this way.

There are two ways to do gender reversals. You can go way over the top, playing it for laughs while highlighting and perhaps commenting on cultural markers of sexual identity. Or you can play it straight – that is, effeminate men who really act like women, women who look like men – subtly shifting perceptions of the traditional roles of “masculinity” and “femininity.”

The problem with this “As You Like It” is that Clemmons tries to have it both ways, which muddles the sense of purpose behind the gender swap.

Sure there’s a fun, additional layer of complexity in a man playing the role of Rosalind, who cross-dresses as Ganymede only to play at being Rosalind. After all, this is the way it was done in Shakespeare’s time. But unlike in the Bard’s era, Nick Kennedy in the role of Rosalind and Max Macke as loving cousin Celia are not effeminate boy actors.

Kennedy and Macke are big, hairy-chested, galumphing men in drag. Macke, in makeup and long hair, is especially funny with Celia’s exaggerated gender signals – the giggling, the fluttering hands, the doe-eyed helplessness, the coy hair flicking.

So it would seem Poor Players is going for over the top. Except that the women (that is, the male characters in the play) don’t demonstrate overstated masculinity in kind. They do nothing to conceal their long hair, and don't give particularly masculine renditions of their characters.

Clemmons, with a superb turn in the role of Jaques, is the one exception. She plays the melancholy forest exile believably as a man, in goatee and beret, looking like some miserable beat poet who’s misplaced his bongos. But unlike Macke’s Celia, the drag effect is played straight, not for humor.

Poor Players does well, for the most part, with language and clarity. Kennedy and Hilary White, both veteran Poor Players, give excellent and natural performances. White’s Orlando is sweet, strong and likeable, but again, not overtly manly. Kennedy zips through some of his lines like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush, but never loses linguistic precision.

And the cast does have some fun, especially in the first half, with the newfound duality of the lines. “Swearing by that which you have not” takes on a whole new penile meaning, and the courtier La Beau is humorously transformed here into a gay French gossip.

Clemmons also opens up the back doors of the Hearth stage and uses the outdoors at the San Marcos Civic Center as the forest of Arden.

This production certainly has its moments. There are many strong performances and plenty of laughs – many of which are a product of Macke’s overcooked femininity. But the gimmick can only be amusing for so long without a more significant statement about gender underneath. And this production seems to lack that.

(This review is based on the preview performance of Sept. 3.)

View the cast list.