Wishing for a memorable activity for school vacation week? Woods Hole Theater Company has granted your wish with “The Adventures of Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp.”

WOODS HOLE — Wishing for a memorable activity for school vacation week? Woods Hole Theater Company has granted your wish with “The Adventures of Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp,” a happy-go-lucky production marked by youthful exuberance and a sassy tongue-in-cheek attitude.

So one down, two more to go. Two more wishes, that is.

Everyone knows that — when you rub a magic lamp — the resident genie is obligated to grant you three wishes. And so it is here – in Lisa Jo Rudy’s adaptation of the well-known Middle Eastern folk tale from “One Thousand and One Nights” (a.k.a. “The Arabian Nights”), which she has also directed.

In this case, though, the street urchin Aladdin (Siobhan Morris, a young woman who handles what’s normally a boy’s role with aplomb) comes into possession of a lamp inhabited by not one, but two genies. The younger (played by kiddo Marine Willcox) is an impudent little “genie in training.” The Genie of the Lamp (Zach Morris, looking as imposing but rather less friendly than Mr. Clean) is disgruntled to find he has an apprentice, even if she did graduate at the top of her class at the School of Genie Sciences. And there’s even a third genie, the sprightly Genie of the Ring (played by youngster Ellie Bennett), who also offers three wishes. It gets to be something of a three-ring circus as Aladdin seeks to out-wish, outplay and outlast his enemies to become next in line for a sultanship.

In addition to having a female Aladdin, director Rudy has women playing a number of other traditionally male characters. They don’t seem to be women playing men; they have simply become female characters — more or less as fair-minded or conniving as their male counterparts would be. There are a few anachronistic references to the business world, though, so perhaps we’re suppose to envision some major shattering in the sultanic glass ceiling. It’s also possible Rudy based her casting decisions simply on who showed up for tryouts.

Among the adult standouts in the large multigenerational cast, Charlotte Green is wicked good as an alluring enchantress, the malevolence of her evil scheming pulsating beneath her thin facade of benevolence. Susan Cushing makes an excellent sultan – regal, strong and magnanimous in an ever so slightly daffy sort of way. And Bronwyn Morris, a master of displeased and disdainful facial expressions, is delicious as the grand vizier, the self-serving official who has long coveted the sultan’s position.

The play doesn’t seem to have any particular moral. (When you think about it, it’s actually an anti-Horatio Alger rags-to-riches story in that Aladdin starts out as a lazy thief yet magically achieves success.) The script is spare and simple, clearly geared to be accessible even for tots. (Little ones will understand every word, too, because the cast’s enunciation is virtually flawless.) And there’s little dramatic tension or scariness, even with Aladdin facing the threat of execution at dawn.

Under Rudy’s direction, though, it’s all quite beguiling. Much of this is because she has everyone — down to the smallest children — delivering lines in the way that packs the most punch. When the Genie of the Lamp creates a palace for Aladdin, an onlooker, a young girl, says: “Wow! What a palace!” That’s not exactly a Neil Simon one-liner, but her somewhat blasé intonation makes it laugh-out-loud funny. Playing Aladdin’s mother, Rudy herself also reacts to the magnificent structure, her new home. “I never imagined living in a palace, but now that I’m here it feels right,” she says drolly.

Wearing red fezzes, three police officers (Audrey Ashton, Henry Stoermer and Owen Lovell) manage to create humor simply by almost constantly looking like they’re sleeping on the job.

Fans of Disney’s 1992 animated version of “Aladdin” — and what child isn’t? — shouldn’t go expecting Princess Jasmine, Abu the monkey or the flying carpet. But the production makes its own kind of magic. Whenever a genie is granting a wish, lights pulsate and swirl to suggest a magical spell in progress. And in an enchantingly corny bit of special effects, palace towers ascend from the floor as the “jewel”-studded fabric they’re made of unfolds toward the rafters. There’s also the sparkle and shine of a myriad of wonderfully colorful and exotic costumes, including harem pants and shoes with upturned toes.

Last but not least, there’s the joy of seeing so many bright-eyed youngsters, spreading their wings and flying high on the magic carpet known as community theater. Who knows where it will end up taking them?