There’s not much you can say about “The Rocky Horror Show” regarding depth of plot.

Basically, the show is a rock ’n’ roll musical about a transsexual alien (with the somewhat Freudian name of Frank-N-Furter) from the planet Transylvania, and his Frankensteinish efforts to build himself a perfect male lover.

Meanwhile, he makes room on his dance card to seduce Brad and Janet, the unsuspecting “white bread” couple who fall haphazardly into his lap (no pun intended).

Not exactly “Long Day’s Journey Into Night.”

But one could argue that Richard O’Brien’s script — which has reached cult status through the movie version, entitled “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” — is at least a considered parody/homage to a series of science fiction B movies such as “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” “Flash Gordon,” “King Kong” and “It Came From Outer Space.”

On the other hand, was O’Brien reaching for the lessons of some fable-like tale? Was he warning his audience of the dire consequences that might come from over-indulgent hedonistic behavior, including that which involves sex, sodomy and building Aryan-featured men to serve one’s own carnal pleasures?

Let’s be real.

This play goes no deeper than providing its audience with a corseted, fishnetted comedic spectacle at which its members can dress up and throw toilet paper.

The current production at Whidbey Island Center for the Arts makes no attempt to give the audience more than the raunchy powerhouse romp that first reared its excessive little head in the recesses of O’Brien’s most depraved and satirical psyche.

The music is loud, the costumes appropriately garish and the set full of nods to the best of the old sci-fi movie sets.

Opening night was a full house of folks dressed up appropriately in heavy mascara, black stockings and bustiers, ready to use the conveniently provided bag ’o props to throw confetti and squirt water, and to dance along with the actors and shout obscenities at the stage, just as “Rocky” fans have been doing in theaters and movie houses all over the country for the past

30 years.

As Frank-N-Furter commands, “Give yourself over to absolute pleasure,” so this audience got the message and followed the basic tenet of “if it feels good, do it,” and it was obvious that they were having a lot of fun doing it.

For the “Rocky” virgins in the audience, it was a bit frustrating that the onstage band, which was absolutely tight and nailed every bit of the score with ease, was far too loud for any of us to hear the lyrics to the songs, even though the principal actors were wearing mics. You could tell the cast was dominated by good singers, thanks to several song introductions that required a softer strain of music. But whenever a song’s tempo sped up, the band kicked into high gear, and any words were lost to the audience.

That was a shame, because the story is in the lyrics, and it’s nice not only to be able to hear the nuances of an actor’s voice (with musical direction by Robert Prosch), but also to hear what’s going on, even if what’s going on is a bit superficial.

But that wasn’t the fault of any of the cast members who gave this show every bit of the energy it requires.

Brian Plebanek is a hoot as the head Transylvanian Frank-N-Furter, and manages to reveal an “everyman” quality to a character who, with so many costumes involving corsets, leather, fishnets, chains, feathered robes and women’s wear, is easily susceptible to leaving behind vulnerability for caricature. Plebanek doesn’t do that, and instead gives the audience the alien Frank’s human pulse.

George Henny and Savannah True Randall as Brad and Janet are perfectly cast, he the skinny, undersexed nerd with Coke-bottle glasses and she the shy, undemonstrative duckling who feathers into the sexy swan. They both sounded great (when heard) and worked well together, moving as one fish-out-of-water unit. Their transformation after they become “sexed up” might benefit from each of them throwing themselves with a bit more abandon into the choreography that is custom-made for that purpose.

Indeed, choreographers Susan Vanderwood and Graham Vanderwood do a slam-bam job of creating the movement for this show. The dancing and singing ensemble of “Transylvanians” — Addelle Dierking, Caitlin Goldbaum, Gwen Jones, Gail Liston, Adam Shults and Carrie Whitney — throw all their energy into the atmospheric backdrop the Vanderwoods have created with tableaus and backup numbers that make the whole stage ripe with bodacious antics and sexual innuendo.

Sam Cass, Katie Woodzick and Ryan Saenz as Frank-N-Furter’s alien aides Columbia, Magenta and Riff-Raff deliver the goods with the required wacky weirdness written into these roles, and Charles Simpson is eerily perfect as the alien-created Adonis, Rocky, looking boyishly other-worldly and appropriately impervious in the role.

Rainey Lewis, too, adds a fun and offbeat addition to the whole mix with her appearance as Eddie and Dr. Everett Scott.

Director Jason Dittmer went out on a limb with this production, and although there were certain sound problems on opening night, Dittmer keeps the whole thing moving along at a zippy pace with the help of narrator Terry Rose, who withstood the audience’s profane interruptions with a measured grace.

This show is not for the faint of heart, but any “Rocky” fan will enjoy it, and even a few virgins might find themselves compelled to stand up and jump into the time warp.

“The Rocky Horror Show” plays at 7:30 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays and at 2 p.m. Sunday, through Nov. 14. Tickets cost $12 to $16, and are available at www.WICAonline.com, or by calling 221-8268.