Whether the Bentmen’s staging of their rock opera Ulcer Gulch at the Institute of Contemporary Art Theatre this weekend is a meeting or a collision of high culture and pop culture may be determined by how much gunk will have to be scraped off the walls by the end of its run. After all, the respected Boston band, who have been staging entertaining, unconventional club shows for the better part of two decades, have a reputation not only for visceral music but for theatrics that strike a balance between the artful (dramatic lighting and elaborate costumes) and the lowbrow (on-stage head shaving). Either way, they always leave a pile of various substances and a big clean-up in their wake.

This will be the first time the Bentmen have organized their music into a play-like structure, so the ICA stage is a fitting venue for Ulcer Gulch. "But it’s not like Broadway or anything," says Bill Desmond, who has led the band through several line-ups and four albums. "We’ve taken songs — some new, some from recent records, and some ancient — and organized them into a story line. We wrote a script, and it entails real acting . . . for better or worse."

It also entails the participation of butoh dancer Deborah Butler, Ross Kennedy as the education officer, a cameo by art star Cynthia von Buhler, digital visual effects, sets designed by students from Massachusetts College of Art, and the current Bentmen line-up: Bill Desmond up front singing and playing hammered dulcimer; Cathy Desmond on keyboards, guitars, and guitar synth; Eddie Nowik on lead guitar; Mark White on bass; Geoff Chase on drums; Frank Coleman on drums and digital media. Typical of every Bentmen assemblage over the years, it’s a group of high-caliber musicians.

Coleman, who doubles as the Bentmen’s information officer, explains the Ulcer Gulch concept: "Rock opera is probably the best description, though we think of it more as a musical event that has a plot moved along by the songs. There is drama, there is politics, there are spoken sections that work as glue, but 95 percent of the story is moved by the songs, which have been rearranged in great and small part to accommodate the plot."

Ah yes, the plot’s the thing, and here’s how it goes. Ulcer Gulch is about what Coleman calls "the chain of abuse and corruption." Bill Desmond plays John Van Damned, a successful businessman who is stripped of his assets and dignity and drawn back into his past, where a series of betrayals that shaped his fate is revealed. "He falls under the spell of an evil psychiatrist who prescribes television, television, and more television for him" is Coleman’s description — sounds evil indeed. Then Van Damned is compelled to explore his repressed memories, and that leaves him even more devastated by what he discovers. Finally, he searches for spiritual redemption and instead becomes a televangelist; as Coleman puts it, "The corrupted becomes the corrupter, and the cycle begins anew."

For the Bentmen, even a club gig usually requires weeks of planning. Ulcer Gulch has been in the works for many months. Coleman and Cathy Desmond have been supervising the Mass Art students’ stage constructions. "We’ve made it a blend of Cocteau and Bauhaus and German Expressionism," Cathy explains. "We want things to look just a little bit off, but we also need to accommodate the size of the stage. They’ve been good at building things with multiple functions, so a desk becomes a chair that becomes a pulpit."

"I’ve always conceived of the Bentmen as a rock band doing theatrics," Bill offers. "We’ve moved over the years toward being a heavy, driving band by virtue of there being a lack of theaters to play in."

This time, Cathy notes, "the performance is in a small theater, so you can sit for an hour and a half and still have some hearing left. But there’s still costumes, and you’ll still get spewed on."

The Bentmen perform Ulcer Gulch at 8 p.m. this Thursday through Saturday, December 5 through 7, at the Institute of Contemporary Art Theatre, 995 Boylston Street. Tickets are $20 in advance, $25 day of show; call (617) 423-NEXT.