Peanuts cocktail napkins lie forgotten in pantry drawers, and Beethoven's face glares up from abandoned Schroeder sweatshirts in musty Goodwill Stores. Charlie Brown calendars are replaced on bedroom walls by Sierra Club gloss, or Playboy Mag. glamour. "Snoopy and the Red Baron" is by now a tarnished golden oldie.

How should one respond, then, to a full evening's entertainment entitled You're a Good Man. Charlie Brown. On first thought--you're a dead man, Charlie Brown. But as Ed Zwick's production proves Charlie Brown's grief can still be good.

Zwick and his excellent selection of actors provide such entertainment at its most light hearted. Time: "an average day in the life of Charlie Brown." Place: the cheerful red, yellow and blue of designer Paul Jackel's kindergarten building-block set. From Charlie Brown's first early morning battle with his lack of self confidence to the sugar and spice, star light, star bright finale ("Happiness Is"), Jackel's geometric shapes serve a versatile purpose, while on the backdrop a Schulzian birdie and a curly cloud smile benevolently down.

Under Zwick's slick direction, the actors create a five-year-old's world that knocks down any age barrier. Zwick admits that he never saw any previous performances of "Charlie Brown". He is none the worse for it. Working with only a 50-cent paper-back copy of the original text, the director and his cast have evolved a fresh product of communal effort.

As Charlie Brown, Steve Harris keeps his "failure face" determinedly straight throughout the show, his shlemiel personality becomes more endearing the more he gets dumped upon. Like master, like dog. It would be hard to imagine a funnier and more appropriate piece of casting than Bill Nable's Snoopy. Not only does Nabel manage to look like a human facsimile of the darling dog, but he also has the gestures down pat, even to keeping his teeth bared while asleep. He surpasses even his master in over-sensitivity and sentimentality, and becomes, with his R.A.F. accent and adventure fantasies, the most human of the entire company. His vaudeville number, "Suppertime," complete with can-can and tango, is the high-point of the evening, and deserves the standing ovation it received.

Schroeder (Forbes James Candlish) is another member whose gestures along could make his part. Candlish memorized the finger movements for his scenes of musical virtuosity, and backed by the actual music of the show's combo, he blithely wraps himself in a cloak of Beethoven or Socrates to ward off Lucy's (Jackie Levy's) stubborn attacks. It's hard not to wince at the thought of what little Lucy will be like when she grows up. The strident beginnings of a first-class shrew increase her "crabbiness" ("it's undemocratic if I can't be Queen") to a screeching insufferability. Patty's (Sara Jane Aronin's) character drips from her big blue eyes. An exasperatingly dump blonde, she skips from scene to scene with her trusty jump-rope tied to knee, waist or wrist wherever she goes.

The ultimate prop, however, is Linus's blanket. Under Doug Eichman's affectionate fondling, the woolly soul-mate changes from a cavalier's cape, to a savage's spear, to a dance partner for the number "My Blanket and Me". Despite whatever Lucy might say, he's no "baby brother with a baby blanket," and preposterously picks apart his own psyche and that of others in Papa Bettelheim's best manner.

Supported by Thomas Johnson's outstanding combo, "Charlie Brown" remains a nearly impeccable piece of musical theater. Although at times a trifle sweet, this world without parents doesn't consequently exclude an adult audience. It is fair to fair to say that happiness, for an hour and a half, is seeing Ed Zwick's "You're a Good Man, Charlies Brown."