In the center of Nobody

A Only for Laughs Festival presentation of the play in a single act by Shenoah Allen, Mark Chavez. Directed by Shenoah Allen, Mark Chavez. With: Shenoah Allen, Mark Chavez.Two chairs, two pairs of pajamas and 2 extremely creative sketch artists alllow for a surreal, 90-minute trip with the outer limits of comedy within the Pajama Men's "In the center of Nobody.Inch What starts as a number of hilariously disconnected, apparently nonsensical bits including time travel, space aliens and sundry achievements of derring-do suddenly weaves together right into a single psychologically satisfying narrative as Shenoah Allen and Mark Chavez play all within their elaborate ensemble, an outbreak attraction at Montreal's Only for Laughs comedy fest that feels ripe for restaging between a family room to Carnegie Hall. Without any props with no costumes beyond their signature slumberwear, the Pajama Males -- Allen, who's just like a Swiss Military knife of limitless impressions, and elastic-limbed, vaguely Harpo Marx-searching Chavez -- pantomime their way via a dizzying variety of silly figures, supported by minimal mood cues from music performer Kevin Hume. Their inventions vary from a benevolent, jive-speaking Ice Animal to some saloon filled with tough-guy cowboys (one bets his wife on the presence of aliens, that another quips, "I call at your wife and lift your childrenInch). A few of the bits memorably stand by themselves, like a loony marionette routine, while some resurface with growing hilarity because the show originates. Think about the South American "givitumi bird," which makes its title making off-color noises better suitable for the company finish of the 1-900 call, or perhaps an alien whose temple includes a mind of their own. Both lend themselves to some level of ad libbing, which provides the show an active, off-the-cuff energy and guarantees that no two performances would be the same. In the beginning, attempting to stick to the duo's loosely structured antics feels as though funnel-surfing between classic radio plays, because the comics duck between old-timey genres with uncanny alacrity: One moment, we are watching a tender parlor scene where a gentleman explorer, preventing to go to his wife and newborn boy within the hospital, announces he can not be fenced-in (Allen plays both mother and child) the following, we have been taken to a different dimension, where an Owen Wilson-sounding adventurer disembarks from his spacecraft, simply to find yourself in trouble settling parking costs having a sarcastic robot. Roughly an hour or so in, however, a typical thread emerges -- much more of a slippery yarn, really -- which has something related to an intergalactic effort to thwart the invention of your time travel. This is an inspired device for this type of freewheeling show, one which easily ties together the majority of the loose finishes. The Pajama Males have clearly sitting through enough cookie-cutter serials to recognize in which the payback goes, getting the story's absurd father-boy relationship ("I never understood my dad. He died before I had been created," Chavez quips) towards the forefront just like the production reaches its dizzying climax. Ultimately, the very best joke is always that they have made us care.Original music, Kevin Hume. Examined This summer 29, 2011. Running time: one hour, 38 MIN. Contact Peter Debruge at peter.debruge@variety.com