'23rd Floor' a High-Spirited Comedy

Playwright Neil Simon understands comedy. Through his cherished works—including “The Odd Couple” and “Brighton Beach Memoirs”—Simon shows his ability to write a myriad of jokes based on the human condition. “Laughter on the 23rd Floor,” playing at the Loeb Experimental Theater until Oct. 25, is no exception. In all, the Harvard-Radcliffe Dramatic Club presents a winning production of Simon’s play thanks to the strong direction of Boyd I.R. Hampton ’16 and most notably, an impeccably cast, very talented group of actors.

Inspired by Simon’s experience working for the beloved 1950s variety program “Your Show of Shows,” “Laughter” follows the chaotic writers’ room of “The Max Prince Show” as the program steadily sinks into ratings oblivion. The harried, idiosyncratic comedians struggle to develop material that not only appeals to a growing, relatively unsophisticated Midwestern audience and NBC officials but also maintains the show’s signature edgy humor. Simon’s alter ego, novice writer Lucas Brickman (a very funny Thomas W. Peterson ’18), keeps running commentary on the perpetual fighting and zany shenanigans of his comparatively quirkier co-workers.

One of the play’s prevalent themes is “controlled chaos.” Hampton’s directorial choices are quite effective because he uses both the Loeb’s set (designed by Hampton and Daniel J. Prosky ’16) and lighting (designed by Kat C. Zhou ’17) to create a physical manifestation of this idea. The majority of the cast remains onstage throughout “Laughter,” which could have distracted from the action at hand. However, Hampton’s blocking choices focus attention on those directly speaking while still preserving the realism of writers mingling in the background, essentially organizing a disorganized writer’s room. In containing the chaos of the workroom, Hampton effectively conveys the hectic energy of “Laughter.” In addition, Zhou’s frequent use of a single spotlight to introduce a new character or simply advance the story is both stylish and effective; the stark light commands attention and is a nice contrast to the visually overwhelming main stage.

Hampton’s choice and use of set props bolsters the comedic appeal of “Laughter,” perfectly capturing the cluttered, madcap environment of a television writing room. Strewn about the Loeb’s intimate stage is a plethora of ragtag, incongruous props—onion rolls, a severed zombie head, and a pair of life-size, Daedelus-like wings, to name a few. Many of these odd props jokes within themselves, and the cast incorporates them into scenes as much as possible. Throughout the show, nearly every prop is thrown, flipped, worn, eaten, or destroyed, keeping the audience riveted and generating laughs.

More than anything, “Laughter” serves as a vehicle for the remarkably talented cast to display their comedic skills. It’s clear just how funny the performers are before the show even begins: the cast biographies and an ingenious list of acknowledgements (“Cheetah girls, Cheetah sisters,” “Rob Ford’s crack pipe”) are hilarious additions to the show. Once “Laughter” begins, each member of the relatively young cast (four of nine members are freshmen) absolutely delivers. Some highlights include Dylan J. Peterson ’17 as volatile falling star Max Prince, who deftly handles both dramatic and comedic scenes. His portrayal of a man watching his career steadily unravel is at once funny, tragic, and moving. Daniel S. Milaschewski ’17, playing oddball Milt Fields, possesses a rare, undeniable presence that makes it difficult to keep your eyes off him. His unprovoked, well-timed squeals never fail to throw the audience into a fit of laughter. And as the fidgety hypochondriac Ira Stone, Robert J. Hopkirk ’18 is a revelation. Whether launching into a manic tirade over his perceived brain tumor or scribbling his diagnosis across the wall in Sharpie, Hopkirk’s pure gusto and aplomb belies the fact that “Laughter” is his first HRDC show. Even though each actor is individually great, the cast comes together with a palpable, infectious camaraderie.

Of course, “Laughter” is not without its flaws. Occasionally, the jokes do fall flat, whether because of an accidental interruption between cast members, delivery of a line that’s just a bit too quick, or a one-liner that just doesn’t translate to a modern audience. However, the impressive trifecta of direction, props, and performances more than compensate for these brief lulls in energy. “Laughter” works so well because the actors adroitly avoid the pitfall of portraying their characters as two-dimensional, weak caricatures; rather, they manage to craft a group of real, flawed, very funny human beings. The show may not always bring the laughs, but it consistently brings the soul.