To quote the opening song, the creators of “Hands on a Hardbody” would like to hope that the show is a “human drama kind of thing,” reaching beyond the self-described kitschy premise toward a real depth of feeling. The original 1997 documentary followed 10 Texans in a quest to win a brand new pickup. “If you live in Texas/and you ain’t got no truck/honey you’re stuck,” they sing in this new stage production, avoiding the more obvious and crude rhyme. To win, they simply have to be the last man or woman with a hand on the truck.

While the show has a number of faults, its most egregious is a crisis of identity. “Hands on a Hardbody” is neither a comedy nor a drama. One wishes the creative team of Doug Wright, Amanda Green and Trey Anastasio had simply pushed the premise it to its logical, absurd conclusion and given up the “human element” entirely.

With 10 underdeveloped stereotypes for contestants it becomes clear early on that picking one to root for would be either impossible or pointless. To list, we have: a man whose voice aims at soulfulness but doesn’t attain impressiveness, a sorority blonde, a hippy girl, a bro, a Jesus freak, a crazy cat lady, a former marine, an upwardly mobile Mexican, an old fogey and a bigot.

That list seems prefabricated for some kind of subversion, but the only surprise is that the crazy cat lady doesn’t seem to have any cats. The sorority type conspires with the dealership to fix the contest, the bro and the hippy girl fall in love, and the old fogey and his wife try to preserve their relationship.

Their duet produces the play’s most interesting moment, as the wife sings about how her once-devoted husband now searches for any excuse to run away. He quietly murmurs he only wants to get away from himself, but she doesn’t seem to hear him. That’s a real human drama kind of thing. But the unmemorable music, penned by Phish frontman Anastasio along with Green, has few other highlights and doesn’t last beyond the theater doors.

The real root of the musical’s issues, though, lies in the central contest. It could be interesting fuel for an exploration of the lives of a group of people, but it isn’t dramatically motivated at all. The ability to stand in one place for a long time is hardly evidence of a character’s growth. The cast leaves us with an important lesson: “If you love something, keep your hands on it.” Maybe they weren’t trying to move beyond kitsch after all.

“Hands on a Hardbody” is now playing at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre.

A version of this article appeared in the Tuesday, April 2 print edition. Alexander Tsebelis is a contributing writer. Email him at [email protected].