No medals for this troupe of ‘Heroes’

World War I must have a huge inferiority complex. It bestrode Europe for a few years early in the 20th century, flattering itself as “the war to end all wars,” only to have another global conflagration come along a mere two decades later and leave it in the dust of an atomic blast.

That sense of forgotten history haunts “Heroes,” a largely forgettable autumnal comedy by French playwright Gerald Sibleyras about three World War I veterans plotting their escape from a military retirement home in a charmingly verdant spot in France. (With its isolated terrace and ghostly staff, though, this residence might just as well be next door to oblivion.) The year is 1959, and society’s memory is short. Crusty yet endearing, the men while away their late-summer afternoons under darkening skies of mortality.

The play, which had its American premiere Wednesday at the Geffen Playhouse, is one of those character pieces for dab old hands who want to show they’ve still got it. Directed by the young British talent Thea Sharrock (who also staged the London premiere), the production stars Len Cariou, George Segal and Richard Benjamin -- actors with a wealth of experience and, sorry to say, a lot of rust too.

The French title, “Le Vent des Peupliers” (The Wind in the Poplars), may be lovelier than the more ironical “Heroes,” but the work was translated by British playwright Tom Stoppard for maximum pop. Stoppard’s involvement was a crucial ingredient in the mild success “Heroes” had in the West End, where it won the 2006 Olivier Award for best new comedy. (That Richard Griffiths and John Hurt were in the cast didn’t hurt.)

But don’t expect the brain-charge of a Stoppard original, even though “Heroes” similarly prefers witty banter over dialogue. It’s tres, tres French in its mix of the philosophical and sentimental and in the way abstraction inevitably crowds out action.

The comedy to which it naturally draws comparison is Yasmina Reza’s international sensation “Art,” which also features three characters, a terse title and just enough intellectual brio to seem stylishly entertaining. But “Heroes” isn’t so sharply drawn. Divided into six scenes, it lackadaisically dwells on the camaraderie of the fellows, who momentarily dream of fleeing to Indochina, then less ambitiously to the park of poplars outside the stone walls of their relatively cozy prison.

It gives nothing away to say that, like the characters of Chekhov and Beckett, these graying, grumbling gentlemen aren’t likely to fulfill their hearts’ meager desires. What’s disappointing to report is that it’s not very thrilling to watch them bumble along. Gags dawdle and punch lines fizzle. This is a decidedly lukewarm affair. And all the lyrical intimations of death can’t redeem the yawn-inducing high jinks.

Segal, who has the look of someone settled into his years as though they were a comfortable armchair, plays Gustave, the suave aristocrat who’s the leader of the group. A bona fide war hero, he’s incessantly battling the unseen Sister Madeleine, who regulates life at the veterans home with a general’s command.

Gustave resents being marshaled into birthday celebrations for octogenarians who tend to keel over shortly after they blow out the candles. All he wants to do is sit outdoors beside his favorite companion, a stone statue of a dog, and plot little sallies that will win him and his buddies a taste of freedom before it’s too late.

Benjamin, the broadest of the trio, takes on the role of Philippe, who has shrapnel lodged in his head that causes him to faint with alarming regularity. He permits Gustave to answer the letters that come like clockwork from his sister. This spares him an onerous family duty and allows him to keep his face buried in Le Monde -- one of the few tasks Benjamin pulls off convincingly.

Cariou, who did a bang-up job last season in the Geffen revival of “All My Sons,” has less success with the lusty codger Henri, whose daily constitutionals have become more enticing ever since he came upon a girls school in the vicinity. But there’s no need to sound the alarms -- Henri, hobbling around on a walking stick, is far too doddering for real mischief.

Generally speaking, the problem with the acting, besides the occasional flubbing of lines, is that the bickering intimacy on display isn’t believable. The play has a farcical superficiality that invites large comic turns. For it to become something a bit less frivolous, it needs an ensemble willing to invest more in the relationships than in the jokes.

That production is still a few weeks of rehearsal (and maybe a casting change) away. In the meantime, one can admire set designer Robert Jones’ stunning, foliage-trimmed re-creation of a French courtyard and lighting designer Howard Harrison’s beautifully hued sky.

Of course, there will be some who will want to see how Segal and Benjamin are holding up. “Heroes” might seem like a perfect vehicle for them. Sadly, the outcome is the same as the veterans’ attempt to recapture a moment of faded glory.

charles.mcnulty@latimes.com

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‘Heroes’

Where: Geffen Playhouse, 10886 Le Conte Ave., Westwood

When: 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays through Thursdays, 8 p.m. Fridays, 4 and 8:30 p.m. Saturdays, 2 and 7 p.m. Sundays

Ends: May 27

Price: $35 to $69

Contact: (310) 208-5454,

(213) 365-3500

Running Time: 1 hour, 30 minutes

Len Cariou...Henri

George Segal...Gustave

Richard Benjamin...Philippe

Written by Gerald Sibleyras. Translated by Tom Stoppard. Directed by Thea Sharrock. Sets by Robert Jones. Lights by Howard Harrison. Sound by Jonathan Burke. Production stage manager Mary Michele Miner.