Is there a more unlikely subject for a stage musical than the life of the man who invented the printing press in the 15th century? That’s part of the joke, but unsurprisingly, the joke never lands. The story of Johannes Gutenberg remains resistant to song and dance.

Rannells makes a fetching wench who stomps grapes (Gutenberg started as a winemaker) and Gad is divine as both an evil monk and an antisemitic little girl. But after being introduced, none of the many characters gain comic ground, nor do they add to a story that is simply incomprehensible. The story is meant to be ridiculous, which is quite another thing.

Somewhat more successful than the narrative of the musical within this musical are the alter-ego characters of Bud and Doug that Gad and Rannells play, respectively. Bud and Doug are the untalented songwriters who have gone into deep debt to stage this awful show, supposedly for one night only. During one of their talks to the audience, Bud and Doug mention another idea they had for a musical, but rejected. It involves ripping off the plots of every novel written by Stephen King. Now, that might be a musical worth sitting through. “Gutenberg!” is not.

Downright funny is the ad lib moment in the preview performance I attended where a latecomer, trying very awkwardly to get to her seat in the middle of Row C, inspired a long riff about theater etiquette from Gad and Rannells. If the woman wasn’t a plant, she should be. It was one of the few memorable moments in “Gutenberg!”

That goes double for the musical “Gutenberg!,” which opened last Thursday at the James Earl Jones Theatre. It manages to waste the talent of not one but two very talented performers.

Josh Gad and Andrew Rannells bring a great Oscar-and-Felix chemistry to the stage. They also work tirelessly and exert their considerable charm, but in the end, they’re asking us to be entertained by a two-hander staging of an unfunny musical.

I’m all for mocking pretension and sanctimony, and I’m not trying to be a scold — all the same, these moments are suspended in murky territory. Who’s the audience? Are we making fun of ourselves to ourselves? Or are we appeasing the suspicions of folks who are just fed up with all this politically correct diversity, equity, and whatever? “Both” isn’t a great answer. It’s a sticky place to sit, and every so often, it clogs up Gutenberg!’s gears. In that way, it’s a bit like that initial question: Does a show about two dear, derpy dreamers trying to get to Broadway work on Broadway?

For the most part—thanks to its completely winning stars, and to the play’s own best stretches of joyful buffoonery—yes. And yet, something niggles. I won’t spoil it, but near the end, a series of events occurs that double-underlines the idea that, for Bud and Doug, a real moon landing is actually imminent. Guffman is at hand! The dream is coming gloriously, spectacularly, budget-burstingly true. It’s… strange.

Is there a more unlikely subject for a stage musical than the life of the man who invented the printing press in the 15th century? That’s part of the joke, but unsurprisingly, the joke never lands. The story of Johannes Gutenberg remains resistant to song and dance.

Rannells makes a fetching wench who stomps grapes (Gutenberg started as a winemaker) and Gad is divine as both an evil monk and an antisemitic little girl. But after being introduced, none of the many characters gain comic ground, nor do they add to a story that is simply incomprehensible. The story is meant to be ridiculous, which is quite another thing.

Somewhat more successful than the narrative of the musical within this musical are the alter-ego characters of Bud and Doug that Gad and Rannells play, respectively. Bud and Doug are the untalented songwriters who have gone into deep debt to stage this awful show, supposedly for one night only. During one of their talks to the audience, Bud and Doug mention another idea they had for a musical, but rejected. It involves ripping off the plots of every novel written by Stephen King. Now, that might be a musical worth sitting through. “Gutenberg!” is not.

Downright funny is the ad lib moment in the preview performance I attended where a latecomer, trying very awkwardly to get to her seat in the middle of Row C, inspired a long riff about theater etiquette from Gad and Rannells. If the woman wasn’t a plant, she should be. It was one of the few memorable moments in “Gutenberg!”

In the end, the big joke of this show is Broadway itself, and those theatergoers who loved “Spamalot” and “Something Rotten!” will probably go for “Gutenberg!,” which is those two shows on a budget — until Scott Pask’s junk-shop set kind of explodes at the end.