At one point in Sutton Vane’s “Outward Bound,” now deliciously revived by the Keen Company, an eager priest grabs his new friend by the lapels to shout, “We must be keen!” How could Sutton Vane know about Carl Forsman and his merry band of anti-ironists in 1923? Perhaps even an inter-war playwright like Sutton Vane had a premonition about this bright, reliable company churning out hits from our less cynical days.

The company’s motto has to do with sincerity and optimism, so their repertory rarely extends much past the mid-century. But that doesn’t mean the work flinches from the deeps. All of their selected playwrights, living in the long shadows of World War I and II, stared death right down his gullet. That sort of bravery with the Big Question pays off in “Outward Bound,” though its answer does, in the end, seem long-winded.

On board an ocean liner, in its comfortably appointed smoking room, a small and motley group assembles. They are familiar types, though not, perhaps, to each other. A young, clinging couple (Kathleen Early and Joe Delafield) would not normally mix so closely with either a charwoman (Susan Pellegrino) or a dissolute gentleman (Gareth Saxe). Certainly the sweet tempered clergyman from Bethnal Green (Clayton Dean Smith) would not normally sup with a minister of parliament (Michael Pemberton.) And the aristocratic Mrs. Cliveden-Banks (Laura Esterman) can barely stand the lot of them.

What starts as Noel Coward, though, turns into C.S. Lewis. Soon the passengers notice that their ship has no crew and they themselves have no idea of their destination. A cryptic steward (Wilbur Edwin Henry) drops hints like “I was lost young,” which the charming drunkard Tom Prior eventually pastes together. On this sort of ship, there are only two destinations (one distinctly warmer than the other) – and the whole conduct of one’s life will determine your debarkation.

Sadly, the juiciest characters get dealt with first. We have very few illusions about Mrs. Cliveden-Banks: her quavering snobbery brings out the worst in Tom Prior, but Ms. Esterman brings out the best of the show. When her judgment comes, and it comes too quickly, she still manages to get the last word. Letting Mrs. Cliveden-Banks into hell seems like a gamble. I expect on my own voyage to find her in charge.

The others, while meeker before justice, give equally charming performances. Mr. Saxe rages and weeps well in his cups, and his friendship with Mr. Smith’s clergyman has the ring of a real relationship. His self-immolation is fun to watch, so it’s hard to see him rescued. But director Robert Kalfin stays true to playwright Vane’s hopeful, upbeat composition. As the young couple plead their case, the final scenes turn into saccharine goo – as yet avoided – and the play drizzles to its end.

But in “Outward Bound,” a sunny resolution conceals the questions of a shell-shocked soldier. Vane’s insistence that the hereafter is just a longer, more equitably meted out “here and now” strikes us today as depressing or sadistic. Will it really just be more of the same? It’s a refreshing evening indeed to have a cast so buoyant with life asking such questions. If sameness haunts the theater as well as the afterlife, then the Keen Company will have to be our earthly antidote. Don’t miss the boat.

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Speaking of the long road to hell, the current production of “Slag Heap” at the Cherry Lane gives a slightly different itinerary. In Anton Dudley’s graphic, Britgrit play, a couple of Manchester prostitutes try to make it in London. Even a New York audience managed a couple of shocked gasps when young Dave (an incandescent Vincent Kartheiser) and his friend Fran sank under the profession’s filthy waves. But in singing its aria of degradation, the production doesn’t quite match the same play’s workshop at the theater last year. Mr. Dudley’s torrent of slang needs an accent (and performance) more assured than Brienan Nequa Bryant’s and a director with more aggression than Michael Morris. Keeping an ear out for Mr. Dudley, though, will pay great dividends.

“Outward Bound” until May 8 (259 W. 30th Street, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues, 212-868-4444).

“Slag Heap” until May 7 (38 Commerce Street, at Bedford, 212-239-6200).