Mary Todd Lincoln would not, at first blush, seem an especially ripe subject for camp. The wife of the man whom many consider our greatest president led a life riddled with tragedy, from the deaths of three of her four sons — two during childhood — to the assassination of her husband. She was famously plagued by mental health issues.

Alas, for those of a certain comedic mindset, nothing is sacred — not even in 2024, as cultural standards dictate that audiences should be handled like delicate snowflakes, with material that might offend anyone for any reason avoided at all costs. The non-binary creator and star of “Oh, Mary!,” Cole Escola, is 37 years old, but this aggressively, buoyantly irreverent caper affirms that the artist’s work draws from an older, albeit more progressive — and transgressive — tradition.

It’s a tradition that has included theater and cabaret innovators such as the late Charles Ludlam and Charles Busch, whose own most recent play, “Ibsen’s Ghost: An Irresponsible Biographical Fantasy,” followed the widow of another towering figure as she veered from flowery laments to equally flamboyant flights of indignation. 

Mind you, Mr. Busch’s Suzannah Thoresen Ibsen was a shrinking violet compared to the heroine of “Oh, Mary!,” which arrives on Broadway following an acclaimed run off-Broadway earlier this year. From the moment Cole Escola’s Mary barrels onstage in an enormous hoop skirt, her face framed in deceptively demure curls, we know this first lady is a force to be disturbed at our peril.

That said, Mary’s natural state is one of profound disturbance, exacerbated by her consumption of great quantities of alcohol and, at one point, a bucket of paint thinner. We learn that before marrying Honest Abe she was a cabaret performer of great distinction, at least by her own account; confined to a domestic role, she is, however stately her position and surroundings, miserable.

In a series of skits punctuated by brief pauses, in which patches of melodramatic piano music (by Daniel Kluger) evoke a silent movie, Mary unleashes that misery on everyone around her, from the chaperone she pushes down a flight of stairs to the acting teacher her husband hires in hopes of distracting her. No one suffers more, of course, than the president himself, presented here as a deeply repressed buffoon who pines for his male assistant while praying for two things: “Win me this war, Lord, and keep my wife from ruining my name.”

Played by Conrad Ricamora, with an air of pomp and impotence befitting one of Will Ferrell’s clownish would-be alpha males, this Abraham Lincoln tries to sustain a lofty dignity but is repeatedly dragged into sparring matches with his spouse. “It’s inappropriate,” he tells Mary, when she first approaches him about reviving her career. “We’re at war.” “With who?” she counters. When he responds, exasperated, “The South,” she asks, “Of what?” 

Much of the humor is saltier than that, and some of it may induce queasiness in those with fragile sensibilities. (That paint thinner, for instance, makes more than one trip through Mary’s digestive tract.) Cole Escola, who has tackled a variety of boldface characters on stage and television, manages to sustain a delirious fit of pique through most of the show’s 80 minutes without losing our attention for even a moment; this Mary would approve.

Sam Pinkleton’s giddy direction ensures that the other players keep apace. Bianca Leigh’s chaperone remains brightly chipper despite enduring abuse, and James Scully proves a gallant straight man as the drama coach, whose seeming infatuation with Mary precipitates radical twists on historical events.

In fact, while it wouldn’t be quite accurate to say that “Oh, Mary!” has a happy ending — it doesn’t for our 16th president, certainly — it concludes on a triumphant note, one that seems as inevitable as it is hilarious. For those weary of the less amusing foolishness permeating real-life political drama right now, Cole Escola has provided a winning tonic.