Toward the long-awaited end of the new semirevival of “On a Clear Day You Can See Forever,” which opened on Sunday at the St. James Theater, an eminent psychiatrist proposes that what we have been watching was perhaps only “my own psychoneurotic fantasy.”

Now, I don’t have a medical degree, but might I propose an alternate diagnosis? It seems to me, Doc, that you and your show have been suffering instead from a case of clinical depression that you’ve never been able to get over, no matter how hard you’ve tried. And, believe me, I know how you’ve tried. I have felt the pain of your efforts.

Where the heck is Zoloft (and Prozac and Abilify) when you need the little suckers? This wholesale reconception of a fluffy, muddled 1965 musical about reincarnation appears to have given everyone who appears in it — including its charismatic star, Harry Connick Jr. — a moaning case of the deep-dyed blues. Though done up to resemble a psychedelic fun house (the sanitized, perky kind that brings to mind middle-of-the-road rock album covers from the late 1960s and early ’70s), this “Clear Day” still has the approximate fun quotient of a day in an M.R.I. machine.

There’s no doubt that the original “Clear Day,” which features a perfectly lovely score by Burton Lane (music) and Alan Jay Lerner (lyrics), required some serious tinkering if it was going to fly on Broadway in 2011. Though this tale of reincarnation and a love that crossed generations starred the peerless Barbara Harris, as a psychically gifted young woman with a past life just waiting to leap out of her, it was generally agreed that the 1965 production was overdressed, overplotted and more or less out of its mind.