'NORTH ATLANTIC': A MILITARY MUSICAL WITH A TWIST (Production notes are at end of review.) EDITOR'S NOTE: Possibly objectionable language in fifth paragraph Lust has been known to make many a hearty serviceman burst into song, or so the American musical tells us. But there are lots of ways for a soldier, sailor or Marine to express the sentiment that there is nothing like a dame -- to borrow a lyric from Rodgers and Hammerstein's 'South Pacific' -- and not all of them are pretty. Why, just listen to what the boys are singing in a little show 20-some blocks south of where 'South Pacific' is enjoying a long-running revival at Lincoln Center. 'There's a place in France, where the women wear no pants ...' You probably heard that particular dirty ditty in some back alley of your childhood, though I doubt you've heard all the words of the version that's performed with such creepy intensity in 'North Atlantic' at the Baryshnikov Arts Center on West 37th Street. That's right, 'North Atlantic,' the diametric geographical and sentimental opposite of 'South Pacific.' It's a quintessentially American musical as only the Wooster Group could conceive it. Written by James Strahs and directed by Elizabeth LeCompte, 'North Atlantic' might be thought of as the Wooster Group's equivalent of a classical musician's party piece, a larky and goofily entertaining work from an experimental troupe known for heavy conceptual lifting. First staged in the early 1980s and now part of the Wooster repertory, this show depicts life on an aircraft carrier through song, dance, vaudeville-esque dialogue and jokes far bluer than the ocean. Unlike most Wooster Group productions -- which tend to splice wildly different texts and sources together (like a Gertrude Stein opera libretto with a cult bondage movie) -- 'North Atlantic' has a straightforward story line (sort of), identifiable characters and a conventionally satiric point of view. The sense-scrambling use of technology that is the company's signature is at a minimum here. But in its own way, 'North Atlantic' is as much of a mind bender as more abstract Wooster productions like 'House/Lights' (that's the Gertrude Stein-meets-bondage movie piece) and deconstructions of Eugene O'Neill classics (including 'The Emperor Jones' and 'The Hairy Ape'). This production makes both less and more sense as it goes along, as its military men and women flirt, fight and, on rare occasion, wonder what the hell kind of operation they're involved in. They speak the fast, jargon-laden speech of confident, unreflecting people who really have no idea what they're saying. And when they perform their musical numbers -- salty variations on homespun classics like 'Yankee Doodle' and 'Git Along Little Dogies' -- it's as if they're culturally programmed automatons, instinctively enacting rituals made sacred by decades of black-and-white movies, patriotic revues and USO shows. Watching 'North Atlantic' can feel like channel-surfing, drunk, through a military-themed cinematic menu that embraces farce (Abbott and Costello in 'Buck Privates'), melodrama ('From Here to Eternity' and 'In Harm's Way') and smirky battle-of-the-sexes comedy ('Operation Petticoat'). Strahs, LeCompte and the Wooster ensemble demonstrate perfect pitch in replicating the sound and rhythm of the dialogue from such vintage fare. The script is composed almost entirely of lines that have the shape of ever-serviceable cliches and a content as nonsensical as anything in Lewis Carroll's Wonderland. Listen with half an ear, and you're sure you've heard what these characters are saying many times before. Listen closely, and it's gobbledygook. Here's Capt. N.I. Roscoe Chizzum (Ari Fliakos), addressing his men: 'You may feel small and alone and isolated inside yourselves and maybe you are. Sometimes there's no substitute for what we call a sanitary cordon.' The deck-shoe-wearing Gen. Benders (Paul Lazar) is given to chipper comments like 'esprit de corps is worth three divisions.' From time to time these men, who also include a mysterious visiting Air Force officer (Scott Shepherd), discuss the purpose (or purposelessness) of their mission. But what's really on their minds is that wet-uniform contest that's being organized by the girls. The very thought of it inspires lewd and elaborate reveries from Benders. 'I don't know where these urges come from,' he says. 'Do you, Chizzum?' 'Yes, sir, I do,' answers Chizzum promptly. 'They come from God, sir.' As in musicals set in war years, like 'South Pacific' and 'On the Town,' sex is on everybody's mind. But whereas earlier shows translated the call of the libido into sunny, chaste court-and-spark scenes, 'North Atlantic' takes the opposite course. Sex isn't subtext; it's the dark and glistening surface here. Women are meat, and men are carnivores. Fortunately, the women have the upper hand. (They also occupy the shifting upper deck of Jim Clayburgh's ingenious industrial set, where they work as decoders, translators and word processors.) The guys may get all hot and bothered in contemplating their female counterparts, but the gals are cool, artificial coquettes, who often speak in mechanically amplified chorus. Conspicuous among this cynical lot is Ensign Word-Processor Ann Pusey, who, as played by the divine Kate Valk, seems to spew the voices of every B-movie actress who ever played a WAC, a Wave or an Army nurse. Those portraying her associates include the film and television actresses Frances McDormand and Maura Tierney, who appear to be having a fine old time looking virginal and talking slutty. As a study in disconnection -- between style and context, form and function -- 'North Atlantic' doesn't have the layers of other, more ambitious Wooster shows. It flirts dangerously with turning into a single sustained joke, like an old movie redubbed by contemporary comedians. But its seriously skilled ensemble -- rounded out by Steve Cuiffo, Zachary Oberzan, Jenny Seastone Stern and Koosil-ja -- invest the proceedings with a top-flight corps de ballet's discipline, precision and exhilarated joy in performing. When they're two-stepping or undulating or kicking their way through a production number, they exude the infectious pleasure you associate with the more conventional musicals being taken apart here. You're likely to keep replaying in your memory this show's strange, smutty rendition of 'There's a Place in France,' which winds up being as perversely catchy as that strange, smutty 'Honey Bun' number from 'South Pacific.' PRODUCTION NOTES: 'NORTH ATLANTIC' Text by James Strahs; directed by Elizabeth LeCompte; sets by Jim Clayburgh; lighting by Jennifer Tipton; sound by Bruce Odland, Matt Schloss and Omar Zubair; assistant director, Kate Valk; costumes by the Wooster Group; production manager, Bozkurt Karasu; technical directors, Geoff Abbas and Aron Deyo; stage manager, Teresa Hartmann; video by Andrew Schneider; music and arrangements by Eddy Dixon. A Wooster Group production, presented by the Baryshnikov Arts Center, Mikhail Baryshnikov, artistic director; Stanford Makishi, executive director. At the Baryshnikov Arts Center's Jerome Robbins Theater, 450 West 37th Street, Clinton; (212)868-4444. Through April 25. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes. WITH: Ari Fliakos (N.I. Roscoe Chizzum), Paul Lazar (Lance Benders), Steve Cuiffo (Walter Doberman), Zachary Oberzan (Bernard Houlihan), Kate Valk (Ann Pusey), Frances McDormand (Mary Bryzynsky), Jenny Seastone Stern (Wendy-Gwen Clark), Maura Tierney (Jane Babcock), Koosil-ja (Kim Buttersworth) and Scott Shepherd (Lloyd Lud). 