Joy, subtitled a New True Musical, Off-Broadway at the Laura Pels, is a serviceable enough product to entertain intermittently for two hours, but it’s basically a knock-off of stronger, more original female empowerment tuners such as Waitress, Wicked, Legally Blonde, and even Boop!, the recently departed cartoon fantasy. Based on the life of Joy Mangano, a struggling Long Island inventor who became a successful entrepreneur and media saleswoman through her Miracle Mop and other creations, Joy is fun and silly, but trods a familiar path lined with cliches. Note: Joy’s life also served as at the basis of a 2015 film starring Jennifer Lawrence.

Ken Davenport’s book is laden with stereotypes (chauvinistic execs, twangy Texans, fast-talkin’, flinty Long Islanders, 30-ish golddiggers matched with silver-chained daddies) and Annmarie Milazzo’s score heavily relies on generic tunes and unimaginative lyrics. But the game cast is professional and Lorin Latarro’s direction is brisk enough to hold our attention. There are occasional pops of wit and satire, but not to enough to push the show beyond just okay.

We start as beleaguered Joy (a commanding Betsy Wolfe) struggles to hold down her overflowing household. Not only is she putting up both her divorced, squabbling parents (Adam Grupper, Jill Abramovitz), but her ex-husband Tony (Brandon Espinoza) is bunking with Dad Rudy in the basement as Tony unsuccessfully tries to eke out a singing career. Joy’s mom Toots is permanently in her bathrobe and glued to the couch. Joy’s meager paycheck as an airline ticket clerk is the sole source of income, stressing her out and causing her to constantly miss soccer games and school events for her and Tony’s unhappy daughter Christie (Honor Blue Savage).

Joy has always had brights idea for gizmos which never panned out (realized in a musical number with a younger version of herself played by Nora Mae Dixon). Now she has a light bulb moment when she spills a glass of soda. Why not a mop that can wring itself out with the poor housewife user not having to bend over? Thus the Miracle Mop and a musical are born.

There follows Joy’s against-the-odds sojourn to market her creation. She is pitted against  sexist QVC higher-ups (led by Charl Brown) and a Stetson-wearing villainous manufacturer named Cowboy Eddie (Paul Whitty) who attempts to purloin her patent. The former are given a rock alpha-male dance number complete with supposedly sexy hip thrusts, and the latter is joined by a chorus of central-casting cowboys (and a few token gals) in an intimidating hoedown. Choreographer Joshua Bergasse gives both numbers much needed energy.

Of course there is the obligatory, climactic power ballad in which the heroine defies the mostly male forces arrayed against her and received the obligatory sustained ovation. A parade of Joy’s subsequent products from coat hangers to luggage lines follows in the closing number. Ingenuity, woman power and capitalism triumph.

Betsy Wolfe vibrantly imbues Joy with spunk, splash and soaring vocals. She is the vital engine propelling the show, overcoming its weak points. The supporting company each gets a moment to shine, particularly Jill Abramovitz as Joy’s kvetching mother who powerfully puts over a moving song to express her mixed emotions of fear and pride about her daughter. Jaycee Macapuguy has moments of sassy fun as Rudy’s much younger girlfriend who invests in Joy’s mop.

Tina McCartney’s costumes colorfully place in the late 90s era. Anna Louizos’ sets cleverly convey the chaos of Joy’s world with economy and style. I particularly enjoyed the shift from the living room to her Long Island environment. The home set flies out and a plethora of logos from Dunkin Donuts to Home Depot fly in. That’s a move Joy herself might have thought of. If only the show had more of that ingenuity and originality.

The rock revue Rolling Thunder at New World Stages is similarly uneven. Originally presented in Australia, this plotless evening employs hits from the 1960s along with excerpts from actual letters and interviews to provide nostalgic sentiment primarily and an understanding of that complex turbulent period secondarily. A cast of six talented actor-singers play composite characters who live through the US involvement in that tragic conflict. The fragmentary book by Bryce Hallett is basically an excuse to perform such anthems of the hippie generation as “Born to Be Wild,” “Gimme Shelter,” and “We Gotta Get Out of This Place,” with powerful arrangements and orchestrations by Chong Lim and Sonny Paladino. Director Kenneth Ferrone keeps the action moving, but not very imaginatively. Mike Tracey’s sound design emphasizes volume over clarity.

Wilson Chin’s nightmarish set mashes together Vietnam with America’s living rooms. Musicians are arrayed on platforms draped with camouflage nets while 1960s-era TV sets display programming from the era, ranging from Yogi Bear, The Jetsons, Star Trek, and The Carol Burnett Show to Walter Cronkite reading the news and footage of the war itself.

The company does their best with the surface-level roles. Drew Becker, Justin Matthew Sargent and Daniel Yearwood feelingly play GIs enmeshed in the South Asian quagmire while Deon’te Goodman does the same for a protestor and other roles. Courtnee Carter gives depth and sensitivity to a nurse and an anti-war mother. Cassadee Pope conveys the broken heart and confused conscious of of one of the soldiers’ fiancee.

Jake DeGroot’s rock-concert lighting and Caite Hevner’s eclectic projection design provide variety of action which the book lacks.

Joy: A New True Musical: July 20—Aug. 17. Laura Pels Theater at the Harold and Miriam Steinberg Center for Theater, 111 W. 46th St., NYC. Running time: two hours including intermission. criterionticketing.com.

Rolling Thunder: July 24—Sept. 7. New World Stages, 340 W. 50th St., NYC. Running time: two hours including intermission. telecharge.com.