While facing the possibility of closing for good at the end of this month, Mad Horse Theatre Company in Portland is having what may well be its last laugh with the comedy “Goodnight Desdemona, (Good Morning Juliet).” Written by Canadian playwright Ann-Marie MacDonald, this crazy contemporary piece plops us down in the academic office of Shakespeare addict Constance Ledbelly and takes us on a whirlwind flight through two of the bard’s best-known plays as seen through the eyes of a troubled but plucky middle-aged woman.

Ledbelly is fixated on a wacko theory that the tragedies “Othello” and “Romeo and Juliet” were really written as comedies, and had it not been for Desdemona’s stolen handkercheif and some miscommunication about the marriage of the star-crossed lovers, both plays would have come through history as upbeat entertainment. Sipping from a can of Coors, Ledbelly pores over manuscripts in hopes of overthrowing the sacrosanct readings of Shakespeare’s works and of shedding her own mousy image as a second-rate scholar.

Her zeal magically whisks her into a time warp which lands her alternately in Cyprus and Verona, where she meets her beloved heroes and tosses a wrench or two into the plots. She derails Iago in “Othello” and distracts the duelers in “Romeo and Juliet,” so the characters must go forward into a happily-ever-after mode.

As attached as this zany comedy is to Shakepeare, it really isn’t about the bard or his characters at all. And knowing the plays certainly is not a prerequisite (though it helps). The story is really about one woman’s discovery of self, and bless her for looking between the lines of Shakespeare to do so, because she comes up with a lot of clever situations and some good plagiarism.

Even if the moral of the story — to thine own self be true — is delivered with the subtlety of a dagger cutting through a doublet, the production is a testament to Mad Horse’s fine tradition as a well-turned-out alternative theater, one that shouldn’t fall by the wayside because it can’t come up with $32,000 to cover a debt accumulated from poor sales and lack of contributions in the last year.

Director Andrew Sokoloff has a light touch and keeps the two-hour-plus play moving right along. With only 120 seats — all of them good — you are right in the action, plus you can hear every word and see every face without straining.

Deborah Hall, one of Mad Horse’s regulars, energetically and thoroughly carries the lead role of Ledbelly. She uses a lot of stage tricks that in the hands of lesser actors would hit the floor with a thud. But Hall comes off like a slightly hysterical, slightly brilliant aging gal who’s in the prime of her imaginative world but needs a good kick in the old confidence center to get to the glory of herself.

Michael Rafkin, Mad Horse’s artistic director, is well-placed in the roles of Ledbelly’s slimy adviser, Othello, Tybalt and Juliet’s nurse. Asch Gregory presents an elegant, fiery Desdemona, as well as a medley of other characters. And Sarah Nadeau is a perky Juliet. Dennis Scott is terribly busy being an actor for the primary roles of Romeo and Iago, and his craft often gets in the way of his performance.

Without straying from the feel of a Shakespearean play, “Goodnight Desdemona” meshes the Elizabethan lingo with contemporary issues and comes out with a goofball-yet-intelligent plot that will charm scholars, school kids, and regular folks alike.

Since last month’s announcement of financial troubles and the threat of imminent closing at Mad Horse, the theater has raised more than $11,000, including five single dollar bills sent in by one young patron. If the theater is unable to raise the remaining $32,000 to cover debts, it will close its doors at the end of this production. Rafkin is hopeful that patrons will rally to save an organization which has not only enjoyed success in past years, but won a reputation as Maine’s leading cutting-edge theater.

“Goodnight Desdemona, (Good Morning Juliet)” will be performed 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday and 7 p.m. Sunday through April 21 at Mad Horse Theatre Company, 955 Forest Ave. in Portland. For tickets, call 797-3339.