If a musical as goofy and disposable as “The Wedding Singer” can be said to have a guiding ethos, it would come from one of the few 1980s tunes not referenced in the show’s pop-culture-drenched book and lyrics: “Everybody Have Fun Tonight.”

This is presented as more of a demand than a suggestion: With its barrage of audience-pleasing ’80s gags and aneurysm-inducing dance sequences, the sweaty paean to the Age of “ALF” practically leaps from the stage and taps your toes for you.

But the catchy, hook-laden score by Matthew Sklar and an engaging star turn by comedian Stephen Lynch, both making their Broadway debuts, make good on this insistence enough – just barely enough, but enough – to compensate for a cluttered finale, a crucial casting gaffe, and an occasional willingness to coast.

Casting an ironic eye toward the detritus of previous generations has paid off for any number of musicals, from “The Boy Friend” to “Dames at Sea” to “Grease!”The most pertinent example here is “Hairspray,” which also outfitted a period romantic-comedy film with a faux-top 40 score.

But while “Hairspray” drew bizarro sustenance from the film’s creator, John Waters, “The Wedding Singer” plays it safe. In lieu of oddball casting choices like Harvey Fierstein and Marissa Jaret Winokur, director John Rando has filled the Al Hirschfeld Theatre with a throng of photogenic young’uns for his tale of burgeoning love between a mulleted crooner (Mr. Lynch) and the long-suffering waitress of his dreams (Laura Benanti).

To be fair, the source material is similarly innocuous. Anchoring the retro giggles of the “Wedding Singer” film was a sweet modification to the dimbulb persona of Adam Sandler-whose Robbie Hart rediscovered love after being jilted at the altar-with the help of a charming Drew Barrymore. It was this good-natured romance, not the randy octogenarian singing “Rapper’s Delight,” that made the 1998 film a surprise success. This is something that Mr. Rando and his librettists – Chad Beguelin, who also wrote the lyrics, and the film’s co-writer Tim Herlihy – have not forgotten.

The Rubik’s Cube and “Back to the Future” references are still there; in fact, they’ve multiplied like Swatch watches on a valley girl’s arm, thanks in part to Gregory Gale’s witty costumes. “It’s Your Wedding Day,” the ludicrously catchy first number, kicks things off by referencing Quiet Riot, Rick Springfield, Lionel Richie, Diana Ross, and Wham! and the allusions only pick up from there. The wedding band’s name, it bears mentioning, is Simply Wed.

Eventually, though, comes the realization that merely rattling off cultural touchstones doesn’t qualify as writing gags – it’s part of the brainstorming process that leads up to writing gags. A line like “It feels like Mr. Belvedere sat on my skull” would barely pass muster on VH1’s “I Love the ’80s” specials, let alone on a Broadway stage. (A bit about the short-lived McRib sandwich is more successful, although this may have had something to do with a deep, Proustian nostalgia on this reviewer’s part.) Where’s the beef, indeed?

Messrs. Beguelin and Herlihy’s overreliance on the topical humor may stem from a lack of chemistry between the central couple. Ms. Benanti displayed a skeptical intelligence in the recent “Into the Woods” and “Nine” revivals; her characters’ beaus were certainly flawed in each, but she made it clear that she saw right through them. For all her vocal gifts and natural appeal, dish-rag mode just doesn’t suit her, nor does the ’80s-pop idiom of singing she adopts here.

Mr. Lynch is considerably more comfortable with the vocal style, and he is instantly plausible as the kind of guy who could win over a crowd of even the most disastrous wedding reception. Even if his energetic, likable take on Robbie rarely deviates too far from the original path laid out by Mr. Sandler, he adds just enough quirks to keep from coming off as a pale carbon copy.

Among the supporting cast, Amy Spanger (as the nice slut) and Felicia Finley (as the mean slut) both score as two Whitesnake videos waiting to happen. Choreographer Rob Ashford was an extra in “Flashdance,” and he learned a trick or two about putting these actresses through their sexy paces. Luckily, Mr. Rando has chosen two performers with the smarts to find what little shadings there are in these bimbo roles.

Granny no longer gets a crack at the Sugarhill Gang: With the exception of the two movie songs that Messrs. Sandler and Herlihy co-wrote, the score is entirely new. However, Rita Gardner – the original ingenue from “The Fantasticks,” if you please – makes up for it by saying “skanky whore” and engaging in an extended hip-hop number with Kevin Cahoon, who makes the most out of his underwritten role as Simply Wed’s token androgyne. (Matthew Saldivar is excellent as the third band member.)

Like so many wedding receptions, “The Wedding Singer” gets pretty sloppy by the end of the night. Scott Pask’s sets shift from enjoyably gauche to just plain tacky, Mr. Rando piles on the kitsch at the wrong time, and the love story gets lost among the Imelda Marcos and Mr. T impersonators.

And yet Mr. Sklar has a strong ear for melody and deftly straddles the pop and Broadway sounds, while Mr. Beguelin knows how to throw the odd surprise into his lyrics. There’s also the quite ingenious revolving restaurant set, a dance number in which Ms. Spanger douses herself in water, and the fresh spins Mr. Lynch finds on even his lamest material. The whole skimpy, shameless venture is kind of fun. Not as much fun as advertised, perhaps, but compared to the ’80s, “The Wedding Singer” makes a pretty good case for itself. Back then, we bought things simply because Max Headroom and Spuds Mackenzie told us to.

Open run (302 W. 45th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues, 212-239-6200).