Euan Morton, Chris Sizemore and Jeremy Kushnier in Chess.

As lights flash, guitars wail and Jill Paice lifts her arms in triumph during the closing notes of her defiant ode to self-reliance, “Nobody’s Side,” one thing is clear: Signature Theatre’s bombastic production of the cult musical Chess has no intention of shirking away from its 80s rock roots.

And it’s about time. The pulsating score of Chess, in all its synthy glory, is one of musical theater’s rock operas to remember — and it’s gotten short shrift in the sea of rewrites, flops and shifts that make up Chess’s storied history. Tim Rice and ABBA songwriters Bjorn Ulvaeus’ and Benny Andersson’s beleaguered musical made a splash in London, but died a quick death on Broadway. Rice, however, in true Joss-Whedon-meets-Firefly fashion, hasn’t been able to let go of his beloved creation, tinkering with the show since in several scattered concert versions and revivals, though none has found much mainstream success.

The Cold War musical takes place during the kind of chess match that fascinating, ego-driven players like Bobby Fischer made a phenomenon decades ago. A complicated love triangle between the compelling Hungarian-born Florence and the American and Russian chess masters she’s torn between drives the more emotional aspects of the plot. Schaeffer’s version owes more to the Broadway version in storyline, while dialing down some of the show’s more tangential satirical elements and both tightening and heightening the impact of a side plot involving Florence’s refugee father. But it doesn’t embrace that version’s more generic Broadway musical feel; it’s a rock opera that doesn’t forget to, you know, actually rock.