If there's a common theme to the stories, it's that women know how to use their brains and bodies to outwit their menfolk. This may or may not strike you as a revelation. But it is interesting to ponder, in the course of Velasco's two-act goddess parade, how different cultures view female power. It is also intriguing to consider how the Christian mythology, in contrast to other traditions, so thoroughly excises the role of women, from the male God who creates the world to the son of God who comes as savior by virgin birth.

The piece, unveiled over the weekend at Copley Auditorium, raises such questions indirectly, and with a rather bawdy sense of humor. The hip, cheeky tone is established by the text, adapted from the writings of feminist comic-book writer Trina Robbins and zestily narrated by Steve Gunderson and a female trio – Dana Hooley, Devlin and Ka'imi Kuoha – representing the three ages of woman.

As the stories unfold, the dancers appear in different guises to physicalize the action. There's also a slide show, which punctuates both text and dancing with visual jokes, generating a vibrant, pop feel. Marilyn Monroe, Burt Lancaster and the Olsen twins are among the flotsam and jetsam of Americana that ground the ancient stories in our own time and place.

Some familiar stories are wittily twisted, offering a new perspective. The Greek goddess Artemis (Jenifer Sarver) is no virgin huntress but a blithe lesbian spirit who rebuffs the voyeuristic Acteon (the appealing Askar Alimbetov). Less familiar stories – such as those of Japanese goddesses Amatreasu (Hiroko Hori) and Uzume (Noriko Maruzoe) – get an equally irreverent treatment. Maruzoe's Uzume performs a sly striptease to a cool instrumental version of "Fever."

Velasco originally conceived "Eternally Bad" as a musical-theater piece, and it shows. The musical selections – ranging from surf music for Uma Suresh's classical Indian dancing to a languid version of "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" for Hawaiian goddess Pele's seduction sequence – are often inspired. But there is a too-heavy emphasis on text (which is spoken, not acted), and too little attention paid to storytelling through dance.

The choreography is often witty, but just as often perfunctory. And the dancers, for all their charm, are frequently upstaged by the slide show as well as narrated text. The show is pitched at a high volume, which is partly a technical problem, and partly a question of modulation: A show of this length needs more dynamic variation, and more dance invention. Overall, Velasco's comedy-ballet feels like a promising first draft.