By Alex Berger
Neil Simon's “Laughter on the 23rd Floor” is presented, fittingly enough, at the new Sid Caesar Dinner Theater at the Huntington Townhouse. The comedy pays homage to “Your Show of Shows,” which the namesake of the theater, the now 78-year-old comedian and writer, brought to the early days of television, paving the way for TV sketch comedy.
Caesar, who began his career as a saxophone player with several popular big band names, lent his name to the fledging dinner-theater. He also donated some of his prized show-business memorabilia. (Unfortunately, Caesar was not able to be present at any of the performances because he was recovering from surgery in his home in Southern California.)
“Laughter” depicts the days when Caesar and his writers – including Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner – sat around a table on the 23rd floor of the NBC studios in New York and exchanged wise cracks and jokes as they created the scripts for “Your Show of Shows.”
The successful show, which featured Caesar and his co-star, Imogene Coca, aired every Saturday evening from 1950 through 1954.
The action of the play takes place in the cramped, network writers' room, decorated with not much more than a framed newspaper headline announcing that “Germany Quits,” a picture of Humphrey Bogart in a scene from “Casablanca,” and a photo of Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh from “Gone With The Wind” tacked to the wall. The customary coffee urn, surrounded by a bountiful supply of bagels and onion rolls, were within easy grasp of the writers.
One of the new writers, Lucas (Joshua Randall), narrates as each of the eight writers strolls in separately and tosses insulting shtick at one another while they wait for the Head Honcho, Max (Ed Vitale, subbing for Jack Carter) to enter. Max, of course, personifies Sid Caesar.
He makes a grand entrance, takes his belt off his pants so he can be in his writing attire, and is definitely the Captain of the Ship, who gets the crew working by stressing that “funny is money” and only then does the undisciplined group of individualists combine their talents to create.
Before getting down to business, Max and the writers discuss several social issues of the day – the rise of Senator Joe McCarthy and his blacklisting of members of the nation's artistic and entertainment community, the exploding of the hydrogen bomb by the Russians, Joseph Stalin's death and finally the network's decision to eliminate one of the writers because of a budgetary crunch.
Max refuses to do so and devises a plan to cut everyone's salary 10 percent and then take this amount out of miscellaneous expenses to pay the “laid-off” writer. But this never came to pass because, after four years, the TV audience started to tire of Caesar's sketches, preferring other shows not as well written.
The final moments, when Max bids farewell to his bunch of writers following the show's cancellation are indeed poignant. He admits that he loves every one of them and they then walk their separate ways, a most touching scene.
The author, Neil Simon, remembers those days fondly and the cast do a pleasing job in recreating the era of Max and his funnymen (and woman). It makes us older TV fans feel as if we are part of the group ready to contribute a few jokes of their own.
Several of Caesar's actual improvisators make up a Who's Who of comedy, including Mel Brooks, Dick Cavett, Neil Simon, Carl Reiner, Woody Alien, Larry Gelbart and others who later ventured forth to create comedic niches of their own. In 1954, Caesar and co-star, Imogene Coca attempted to reunite several times, hoping to recapture their initial success, but the fickleness of the TV audience caught up with them and every attempt met failure.). Television can certainly benefit from Sid Caesar and his writers today.
Sid Caesar, the towering (6-foot-2) veteran of comedy has won many awards including two Emmys; a Lifetime Achievement Award in American comedy; the Sylvania Award; was twice voted the best U.S. Comedian; and is a member of the Television Hall of Fame.
The play, produced by Andrea Marshak of Floral Park, her husband, Larry; and Barry Singer, opened on April 18 and will run through April 29.
For tickets and reservations, call (800) 218-5052 or (718) 347-8670.
Reach columnist Alex Berger by e-mail at timesledgr@aol.com or call 229-0300, Ext. 139.
