With a title like Assassins, theatergoers probably walk into Signature Theater’s latest production thinking that they’re going to be witnessing something very removed from their everyday lives (well, unless one of them happens secretly to be planning a political murder). After all, how much does the typical D.C. resident really have in common with John Wilkes Booth?

Then the American-flag curtain is raised, and we find ourselves staring back at a mirror image of a theatre, exactly like our own, with a colorful group of characters sitting in the same folding chairs we are. This effect, just one example of Signature’s formidable staging of a brilliant show, crystallizes one of the provocative themes of this Stephen Sondheim masterpiece: people like Lee Harvey Oswald believe they have the “right to be happy” just like we do – but when the American dream lets them down, they take it out on the country’s leader.

Well, that doesn’t completely explain things. And, in fact, nothing is crystal clear or perfectly didactic in this show, and that’s part of its mastery. Sondheim dangles his share of weighty ideas, in intense numbers such as “Another National Anthem,” where the show’s acting narrator, the Balladeer (Stephen Gregory Smith) throws out treacly tales of good fortune (“The mailman won the lottery!”), which the assassins spit back in his face, crying, “It’s never gonna happen!” Assassins is a show that is both disquieting and hilarious, and it’s a delicate balance for any cast and director to make sure that both aspects get equal weight.