Imagine Waiting for Godot where the title character is a mechanical shark and you’ll get a sense of The Shark Is Broken, a sporadically diverting comedy about the making of the 1975 blockbuster Jaws that opened Thursday at Broadway’s Golden Theatre. Why this modest three-actor, one-set show is wading into the choppy waters of the Great White Way is a mystery best left to others to explore.

The show focuses on the film’s three main stars: Roy Scheider (Colin Donnell), a two-time Oscar nominee and calming presence on set, Robert Shaw (Ian Shaw), an acclaimed but temperamental Brit who also had success as a novelist, and Richard Dreyfuss (Alex Brightman), a neurotic Hollywood newcomer who desperately wants to be a star. They gather on designer Duncan Henderson’s re-creation of the Orca, the fishing vessel where their three characters pursue the giant shark that has been menacing the beachgoers of Amity Island (played by Martha’s Vineyard in the film). Mostly, they pass the time as director Steven Spielberg and his team wait for better weather or a fully functioning mechanical shark (nicknamed Bruce).

The fact is, the many documentaries about Jaws provide a clearer picture of the famously troubled production of Spielberg’s second feature film — which cost more than twice its original $4 million budget and nearly tripled its projected 55-day shooting schedule.

The Shark Is Broken, written by Shaw (Robert Shaw’s son) with Joseph Nixon, focuses mostly on the clash of personalities among the three leading men — and prophetic (or short-sighted) statements about the future of Hollywood (“One day there will only be sequels”) or Richard Nixon (“There will never be a more immoral President”). The script is studded with these glaring observations, which stick out like anachronistic Post-It notes.

Shaw serves as a proxy for a then-dying breed of older actor, trained on the stage and possessing a swagger that was fueled in part by a steady consumption of alcohol. Dreyfuss is the jumpy upstart, fixated on fame but enormously insecure about his own talents. And Scheider is the straight man, the natural peacemaker between his costars’ volatile personalities, one who sees both sides of the argument about how films can be both commercial and artistic endeavors.

Brightman, best known for over-the-top performances in musicals like Beetlejuice and School of Rock, makes the biggest impression as the easily excitable Dreyfuss, while Shaw brings some real poignancy to his role, boosted by an uncanny physical and vocal resemblance to his late father. Each actor gets a moment or two to chew the scenery, which they do with an appetite as unrestrained as any predatory great white.

As with Godot, there’s a lot of talk — and nothing of consequence ever really happens. Mostly, the actors are just passing the time — playing cards, drinking booze and getting under each other’s very thin skins. But Beckett this ain’t. And director Guy Masterson could really use a shark (mechanical or metaphorical) to bring some excitement or meaning to this meandering, water-logged voyage.