In the opening minutes of Theresa Rebeck’s new play, four young students nervously await the arrival of a famous novelist who they’ve hired to conduct a series of private seminars on writing. That we know he’s played by Alan Rickman is an immediate clue that they’re going to be in for a tough time. Anyone who’s seen this celebrated actor’s work--whether onstage in Les Liaisons Dangereuses or Private Lives or onscreen in Die Hard or the Harry Potter series—knows that he can devastate anyone with a mere raise of an eyebrow, a sardonic sneer or a perfectly delivered verbal riposte.

But that hasn’t dissuaded this plucky group, which includes cocky Douglas (Jerry O’Connell); insecure Kate (Lily Rabe); shy Martin (Hamish Linklater) and decidedly not shy Izzy (Hettienne Park), who at one point flashes her boobs just to make a point.

Each has paid $5,000 for these private sessions to be conducted by Leonard (Rickman), an internationally renowned writer who has presumably seen his luster, if not his ego, dimmed. Conducted in Kate’s palatial, rent-controlled Upper West Side apartment for which she only pays $800 a month, the weekly sessions quickly turn into exercises of sado-masochism.

Leonard, who can apparently discern a writer’s talent by merely reading the first few lines of a manuscript, decimates Kate’s story, which she has been laboring on for years. He damns Douglas’ effort with faint praise, suggesting that his shallowness would be better suited for Hollywood. He does have kind words for Izzy’s work, although it’s also clear that he wants to sleep with her. As for Martin, well, he’s too afraid to even offer a writing sample.

Meanwhile, personal issues come into the fray, with sex and jealousy further undermining the group’s already fragile interpersonal dynamics.

Rebeck, a veteran of both stage (Mauritius, The Understudy, Omnium Gatherum, The Scene) and television (NYPD Blue, the upcoming Smash), is certainly adept at plot construction and clever dialogue. This 95-minute comedy flows by fairly painlessly and mostly entertainingly, despite its many contrivances requiring that you don’t examine it too carefully.

But the characters, including Rickman’s Leonard--who reveals not so unexpected vulnerability and decency—are purely one-dimensional, and the observations about the literary world, etc., rarely rise above the level of superficiality.

Under the slick direction of Sam Gold, the ensemble does first-rate work. Rickman, who could probably have phoned it in, seems to be working hard to provide depth to his characterization. Linklater, thankfully, shorn of his usual wildly frizzy hair, is terrific as the repressed Martin; Rabe continues her string of impressive recent stage performances as the tortured Kate; Park displays real comic flair as the sexy Izzy; and O’Connell has a relaxed charm in his Broadway debut.

It’s clearly Rickman’s star power that has brought this lightweight work to Broadway. Whether it’s enough to keep it running is another question.

Golden Theatre, 252 W. 45th St. 212-239-6200. www.Telecharge.com.