The Pajama Men: In The Middle Of No One

If Calvin—the rambunctious kid from the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes—were to write a comedy show directed by Wes Anderson, the result might look something like the Pajama Men’s latest offering: a place where intergalactic time travel and ice beasts meet whimsical songs and off-kilter father-son relationships.

This is meant as high, high praise because In The Middle Of No One is one of the funniest shows of this or any other Fringe.

Since their 2004 debut, comedy duo Shenoah Allen and Mark Chavez have polished their format, combining improvised energy with sharply scripted wordplay. This year, it sparkles brighter than ever. Clad in only their trademark loose-fitting nightwear, they conjure up a show that initially seems like an unrelated series of sketches but builds into a hugely satisfying tale with cinematic scope. 

It stretches from the delivery room in a maternity ward to an intergalactic council full of aliens with talking foreheads. In reality, though, the plot is incidental. It’s simply a very clever frame upon which to drape scores of cheek-achingly brilliant, cartoonish skits. Nothing fails to hit the mark. Silly voices are bleated, croaked and screamed, lines are wrung within an inch of their comedic life, bodies are shape-shifted, absurdity is tickled and the audience is floored.

Towards the end musician Kevin Hume sings a genuinely sweet song as Allen and Chavez act out a montage of the characters they have blessed us with. And just like one of them, a rare South American bird that emits a cry like an over-eager porn actress, the whole show is nothing short of orgasmic.