When H.G. Wells’ late 19th-century novel “War of the Worlds” — a tale of a ruthless Martian invasion — aired in a radio adaptation in 1938, listeners thought the extra-terrestrial onslaught was real. Mass panic ensued as residents fled their homes in terror and took up shotguns to fend off the aliens.

History repeated itself in 1949, when a radio station in Quito, Ecuador, broadcast a translation of the sci-fi classic. Ecuadoreans first panicked and then — when they realized they’ve been fooled — they rioted, setting fire to the radio station. Ten people died in the chaos, including three radio station employees trapped in the fire.

Such is the astounding power of Wells’ iconic story of aliens from above posing an existential threat to the denizens of planet Earth. Rogers Park’s Lifeline Theatre opened its own take on “War of the Worlds” this week in John Hildreth’s adaptation, which takes a far less terrifying and exponentially more campy approach to the tale.

Directed by Heather Currie, “War of the Worlds” is more silly than scary. Often almost farcical, the production’s aesthetic is more “Lost in Space” than “Independence Day.” It’s comical-unto-ludicrous throughout.

(There’s even a robot wedding in this version.) Currie has shaped a production that is in turns funny, stupid and a tad ingenious.

The story remains fundamentally the same, although Hildreth has set it locally: Martians invade Chicago’s suburbs. Before the final battle, the Martians set their sights on Woodridge, Carol Stream, Glendale Heights, Bloomingdale, Oak Park, Inverness and Palatine, among many other nearby locales.

A scrappy group of scientists at a lab “outside Skokie” fights the invasion with science and guns. Some get eaten or heatgunned to death along the way. Eventually, (spoiler alert if you are unaware of how the roughly 130-year-old tale turns out), microorganisms save humanity, and earthlings continue frittering away their lives with “petty concerns.”

The earliest scenes reveal the show’s slapstick, screwball sensibility. The esteemed Professor Ogilvy (Anthony Kayer) makes a brouhaha about the lab’s powerful telescope — which turns out to be a large magnifying  glass. The Martians’ murderous tentacles take the form of fringed, hanging car wash flaps and giant plastic slinkies.

Along with Ogilvy, the band of Martianfighting scientists include the prescient Montgomery (Kamille Dawkins); Prof. Wittington and his wife Dr. Wittington (Mark Mendelsohn and Jocelyn Maher, respectively), plus lab workers Bautista (Karla Serrato) and Bronski (Mandy Walsh).

Finally, we have a pair of human-like robots, Asst. Prof. Whitehurst (Amanda Link) and Owusu (Cael Fevrius). Most are double-cast as various imperiled earthlings.

Kayer carries much of the production, first as the shaggy, silver-haired, impassioned lab chief and later as a clout-seeing blogger who feels like a mash-up between Johnny Knoxville and Rasputin. He also plays the governor of Illinois, a very Pritzker-looking fellow who vows he’ll vanquish the Martians even as they’re devouring his constituents.

Link’s chirpy Asst. Prof. Whitehurst has ‘WAR OF  the clipped rhythm of a metronome. Ironically, the robot professor is the ensemble’s most emotionally authentic, empathetic member. While the others scream and shout and get gobbled up with massive melodramatic impact, Whitehurst remains an understated vessel of guileless empathy.

As Prof. Wittington, Mendelsohn is the voice of reason amid a story splattered with over-the-top moments. He also tackles much of the copious exposition — In “War of the Worlds,” we’re told as much as shown what’s happening. That’s exasperating to varying degrees; but it is arguably the most efficient way to hold the narrative together in the absence of a cast of thousands and an equally epic special effects budget.

The technical design does a lot of the heavy lifting when it comes to the Martian attacks. Joe Griffin’s sound design clangs and booms with metallic thunder as the Martians make themselves known. Sarah Riffle’s lighting blasts the audience with retina-searing impact as the Human v. Martian death match plays out. Nicholas Quinn’s projections capture the staticky, pixilated snow of television screens severed from the grid, and the flickering heads of TV talk shows.

There’s little menacing or even uneaseprovoking about Lifeline’s Martians. “War of the Worlds” is a caper, not a catastrophe.

As in Wells’ original, it’s nature’s tiniest microscopic beings that end up being the real heroes because the earthlings of “War of the Worlds” basically have no idea what they’re doing. And as with the original, you can extrapolate from that what you will.

THE WORLDS’ ★★★

When: Through July 13

Where: Lifeline Theatre, 6912 N. Glenwood

Tickets: $45, $20 military personnel, $35 for seniors, $20 students

Info: lifelinetheatre.com Run time: 95 minutes, no intermission