During one scene in David MacGregor’s new play “Consider the Oyster,” now having its world premiere at the Purple Rose Theatre, a character argues that the world would be a better, more empathetic place if each person had to experience part of his/her life as the opposite sex.

The position seems to have the ring of truth, certainly. And the gender-bending comedy aims to explore a compelling, salient question - namely, if there are essential elements that add up to the recipe of our love for another person, what ingredients can be removed (or changed or subtracted) before the dish is utterly ruined?

Ultimately, though, “Oyster”’s reliance upon tired gender cliches, a few self-consciously clever punchlines, some heavy-handed direction (particularly as the play draws toward its close), and an over-the-top villain cause it to fall short of its potential.

The play begins as two Detroit loft-dwelling friends - third grade teacher Gene (Michael Brian Ogden) and chef Eliot (Matthew David) - are watching the Lions win the Super Bowl on a miracle play. Caught up in an unexpected moment of victory, Gene proposes to his girlfriend, Marissa (Stacie Hadgikosti). But while celebrating the day’s big events, Gene badly injures his leg, and part of his treatment - namely, the insertion of ground-up oyster shell to help the bone heal faster - has a bizarre, unexpected consequence.

The production begins promisingly enough, thanks to the comically painful, suspenseful lead-up to the Lions’ big play (though Marissa’s above-it-all mother’s presence at Gene and Eliot’s grungy loft seems more an authorial necessity than a logical narrative choice). And when Eliot takes Gene to the hospital, Marissa and her mother, Kay (Sarab Kamoo), have a heart-to-heart about Gene that reveals not only Kay’s reservations, but Marissa’s profound naivete (i.e., “That will all change when we’re married”).

(SPOILER ALERT - skip these two paragraphs to avoid a key revelation in the play)

But when Gene’s treatment causes him to start assuming some female characteristics - oysters are born male and become female, and by way of a medical fluke, Gene starts to do the same - reductive gender stereotypes (particularly about women) start to fly, and the play devolves into a comedy that abandons thoughtful nuance in favor of the easy laugh and a self-consciously sentimental showdown.

What gender cliches are called up for service? Well, Gene starts watching “The View” (and defends its “substance”) while also developing an interest in French country kitchens and antiques; he pulls a gigantic tub of ice cream from the freezer when he’s upset; he starts regularly using a coaster, and orders salads instead of ribs; and he eagerly and quickly absorbs the lexicon of wedding dresses (which, despite my own bridal experience and lack of a Y chromosome, was utterly foreign to me).

Such worn-out (and, frankly, somewhat insulting) assumptions about women feel like an unsatisfying shortcut from a playwright who, on the basis of his previous work (“Vino Veritas,” “The Late Great Henry Boyle”), is clearly capable of far more original and sharp-humored observations.

And while “Oyster” has an outlandish premise that you simply have to “go with” - which I was wholly willing to do - what I simply couldn’t believe in was the character of Kay. Kamoo, a fine actress, does all she can with the role, but Kay eventually emerges as a barracuda on steroids. When, near the play’s end, her strong-arm tactics are re-buffed, this pushy, manipulative, strong woman crumbles into a hysterical heap, thus making Kay seem like more of a narrative device (for comedy and for conflict) than a flesh-and-blood human being we can actually believe in.

Yes, MacGregor provides Gene with a stirring, character-defining monologue (which earned an ovation at Sunday’s performance) in one of the play’s final scenes; but in general, the play, and the production, cries out for more subtlety. Kay leaves Gene an oyster shell as a calling card; Gene has a recurring romantic dream about Marissa that sounds more “writerly” than real; when Gene selects a pair of women’s shoes to try on for the first time, he goes with six inch heels instead of the two inch starter variety (for seemingly no other reason than that, in theory, the former will be funnier to watch on stage); and director Guy Sanville stages the final scenes in such a way that the world slows down for Gene and Marissa, and they only see and have awareness of each other, despite the chaos and wisecracks surrounding them - a choice that feels far too expected and “stagey,” and thus rings emotionally hollow.

Upon first entering the theater, though, I was quite taken with Dennis G. Crawley’s set design - Gene and Eliot’s funky loft, created from eclectic materials, and including a worn warehouse ramp, comes to life in a charming, boho-chic way - and Danna Segrest’s props efficiently convey the two men’s priorities, tastes, and income level. Yet in keeping with the production as a whole, Reid G. Johnson’s lighting design occasionally draws too much attention to itself - cuing us in on the “high drama” of certain moments - and the bone-crunching crack provided by sound designer Tom Whalen feels overdone.

Even so, the cast, to an actor, does its admirable best to make the material fly. And there are certainly some laughs to be had at “Oyster." They just largely died out, for me, somewhere in the middle, making me wish for a shellfish concoction prepared with more innovation and a sense of surprise.

Jenn McKee is the entertainment digital journalist for AnnArbor.com. Reach her at jennmckee@annarbor.com or 734-623-2546, and follow her on Twitter @jennmckee.