Ken Ludwig takes a swing at golf in his “Fox on the Fairway” farce, now playing at Diamond Head Theatre through Feb. 12.

If you’ve seen or are familiar with the playwright’s hotel room romp, “Lend Me the Tenor,” this one’s in the same farcical vein. You’ll be giddily aligned with all the usual trappings of mistaken identities, chases, rivalries and infidelities, insane plot twists and character insecurities.

The Quail Valley Country Club is the setting for this confection on the craziness of clubhouse culture — the outlandish golf wear, the friction of competition, the malady of fidelities versus infidelities of members. You don’t need to be a golfer to soak in the madness.

The physical comedy is often upstaged by body language and expressions, and it takes a dynamic ensemble to pull off all the pratfalls, which director Rob Duval pulls from his high-spirited cast of six.

Clearly, “Fox” is a hole in one — and perhaps it’s better if you don’t know a tee from a birdie. You’ll still get entangled in this hurricane of howls.

The plot is a mash-up of clubby loyalty mixed with romantic entanglements: a lost engagement ring, an unknown golf neophyte who turns into an emotional mess, handlers who are equally hysteric, a birthing issue resolved.

Justin (Daniel Connell, lanky and lovable as a young golf wiz) is a new hire at the host club, who proposes to Louise (Therese Olival, a likable, emotional waitress with shrieks to spare) as a golf competition approaches.

Bingham (David Heulitt, genuinely hilarious from the get-go) and Dickie (Mathias Maas, properly loud and oily as a serial womanizer and a malapropism maven) are the rival competitors in the tourney, betting not just for the glory of victory, but for untold riches revolving around an antique shop property owned by Bingham’s intimidating wife, Muriel (Shannon Winpenny, savvy and sensational, with an intimidating voice and seductive posture).

Pamela (Brooke Channon Dee, the sex-starved and boozing club vice president, who initially seems to be the voice of reason) will be remembered for an enticing oyster dance. ’Nuff said.

Duval proves he is a master at madcap comedy in the tradition of British farce and putts through this one with control and confidence with no sign of fatigue.

Karen G. Wolfe’s costumes are properly insane, notably for the Dickie character. She puts the necessary icky in his costumes.

Christina Sutrov’s set design is on target, creating a well-appointed clubhouse flavor with swinging doors and French doors enabling the galloping cast to whisk in and out of their scenes. And yes, there’s a putting green as well as an 18th hole to define the golf landscape.

There’s a bit of name-dropping of golfers and local figures, too.