The only sensible reaction to the news and cultural climate of today is, in fact, a primal scream.
Fittingly, Second City’s 113th mainstage revue, “This Too Shall Slap,” carries an overwhelming theme of exasperation, and the volume to match.
At an anger management retreat, a game of musical chairs devolves into a shouting match interrupted by occasional acts of self-flagellation (castmember Bill Letz rips tape off his nipples) and attempted, calming “gratitude hands.” A game of credit card roulette at a friend’s birthday dinner leads to shouting diners being stalked by a maniacal waiter. In the nurse’s office at a school, a student laments that, “Nothing ever was, is or will ever be OK!”
There is, however, much catharsis to be found after these outbursts, and “Slap” stands as an example of how, through the honed lens of satire, unmitigated outrage can lead to everyone leaving a bit “Slap”-happier than they arrived.
These unprecedented times have birthed an atypical Second City revue. Nary a political impression could be found, and the material largely eschewed platitudes about the state of the world. Instead, the talented cast and crackerjack director Jen Ellison get up-close and personal with material about people simply inhabiting this world, rather than commenting on it.
It’s a savvy move for Second City, which has occupied uncommon territory in the modern comedy landscape: slower than memes and late-night talk show monologues; faster and less-inflexible than a film.
The show’s inward focus makes “Slap” feel both timely and timeless in how its characters engage with the world. In one standout ensemble scene, a senior citizen named Davis, played by the elastic Jordan Stafford, attempts to wish his sister a happy birthday but continues to dial the wrong number. The folks who answer are ostensibly strangers, but Davis eagerly engages them in conversation, primarily wondering how they are doing. Each time, the strangers are struck by his earnestness and immediately warm to their new acquaintance.
The new revue has slapped together an impressive collection of cast members who commit hard to scenes, particularly during ensemble numbers. On the set of the fake cooking show “Claudine’s Kitchen,” Hannah Ingle as the eponymous Claudine welcomes jovial friends and family onto the program, and their relationships immediately turn sour when the show cuts to commercials. Each performer’s quick turn escalates the chaos and elevates Claudine’s insincere grin and frantic, distracting dance moves.
Sometimes, the comedy is subtle but still pronounced, like when Letz casually steps across a collection of dead bodies to speak to an upset bakery employee. Chalk these moments up to dialed-in performances and Ellison’s detail-oriented direction.
Each performer scores big with both subdued and extreme comedic moments without stealing the spotlight. Adisa “Di” Williams shines while adorned in silver, singing, “We Are Part of a Dictator Nation,” but slides easily into a dress-shopping scene as a supportive sister. Playing a peculiar yogi running a corporate workshop, Leila Gorstein displays wild physicality and an elongated, nasal-y vocal drone, then plays down a huge personal reveal later in the show. Adonis Holmes — a name so fabulous it might as well be fake — can both ground himself as a doting dad or ratchet up his intensity playing a brazenly inept school nurse or remarkable primal screamer.
Second City revues often include healthy amounts of interactive elements; and while “Slap” is no different in that regard, it wields this tool sparingly and to greater effect, often catching the audience by surprise.
The pinnacle occurs when Ingle plays therapist to Letz, embodying a Joe Rogan-type, manosphere-drenched podcaster who rambles about nonsense he knows nothing about. After Ingle loses her cool and decries Letz as someone who, “…has so many opinions but doesn’t care about anything,” Letz removes his backwards baseball cap and tosses it to a gentleman in the front row, shoving a microphone in his face.
Audience members aren’t invited to scream along with the show, but without being prompted, they did throw up some gratitude hands when Holmes shrieks near the end. We’re all living through the same problems, but “Slap,” a strong entry into Second City’s storied history, proves that we can all be part of the solution, too.