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But with the omicron variant on the rise, we skipped the opening of ÃÛèÖÖ±²¥ Theatre Company’s production of Wendy MacLeod’s “Women in Jeopardyâ€� and opted for the digital version of a live performance.

Watching a comedy of a live play on a screen does have its drawbacks — laughter is contagious, and a packed theater laughing in unison is a joy.

Even in a living room with an audience of two, however, the laughter rolls easily in this Sean Daniels-directed production.

The plot is overbearingly silly: Mary (Aysan Celik) and Jo (Julia Brothers) think their pal Liz (Gail Rastorfer) is dating a serial killer named Jackson Scull (Joel Van Liew, who also plays a clumsy cop).

And of course they think that: Liz’s latest is a dentist, for goodness sake. Isn’t that a few steps away from a serial killer? And with the last name of Scull? What other evidence do you need?

Jackson, at the invitation of love-starved Liz, crashes the middle-aged, single women’s Chardonnay Tuesday. Liz just can’t wait for her friends to meet him, so it seemed the women-only activity was just the right place. But before he enters, Liz explains how distraught Jackson is as his hygienist has disappeared on the same day Jackson had given her a copy of “Silence of the Lambs� to watch.

Plus, he was the last to see her. Mary and Jo are suspicious. Very suspicious. They become even more alarmed when Liz tells them that he will be taking her 19-year-old daughter camping. Alone.

Then they meet him: inappropriate, gawky, weird. Surely he is a serial killer. And it is their job to save Liz and her daughter.

Daniels has a flair for comedy, and he saw to it that every laugh possible was wrung out of the script. Humor could be found in the lighting design by Brian J. Lilienthal and Dave Remedios’ sound design. Even the scene changes were funny.

It was all a bit self-conscious, but with a noble goal: laughter.

Daniels was helped by a cast that was willing to stoop just as low for laughter. Celik and Brothers had a kind of Lucy-Ethel vibe that upped the physical comedy, and Rastorfer’s desperate and horny Liz just added to the fun.

Here’s the thing: This really isn’t a very good script. The characters are one-dimensional, you can see the strain to be funny, and the ending is a dud.

But here’s the other thing: Even with an audience of two watching it on a small screen, you laugh. And that is something we all need.