Laughter on the 23rd Floor

Neil Simon's "Laughter on the 23rd Floor" doesn't feel like a play that debuted in 1993 any more than First Folio's production of it seems rooted in 2015. From set to costumes, from vintage pre-show ads to huge performances, director Alison C. Vesely and her cast transport the audience back in time to the Red Scare and the sun setting on the golden age of television comedy.

Angela Weber Miller's beautifully dressed set (kudos to Props Designer Cassy Schillo) manages a complete transformation of the Gothic space within Mayslake Hall. With two entrances and a modest stage footprint, Weber Miller evokes a bustling writers' room high above New York, nodding to iconic TV sets, without at all imitating.

Emily Waecker's costumes are another strength. Waecker captures the early 50s vibe and conveys the passage of time over the course of the play, all while having tremendous fun with a couple of characters and all of the little details that distinguish both archetypes and individuals. The use of vintage commercials pre-show and throughout intermission completes the transformation.

If there's a downside to this immersive trip down memory lane, the flaws seem to lie primarily within the text, rather than the production. The specter of McCarthy doesn't just loom, it intrudes at times. It's obviously a large and legitimate part of Simon's experience, given that the play is based loosely on his work on "Your Show of Shows," home to more than its fair share of black-listed performers. However, a number of moments don't make the transition from a meaningful event to Simon and one that is integral to the story unfolding.

On a similar note, period fidelity makes for some uncomfortable nostalgia. The two scenes that engage gender (and there really are but two) are both among the clunkiest. Carol, who is late in her pregnancy when the scene comes up, bristles at Max's declaration that he won't be the one to fire a pregnant woman. Her desire to be known as a good, unhyphenated writer isn't an unwelcome or unneeded sentiment (obviously), but the scene sticks out awkwardly.

Even less well integrated is a scene between the secretary, Helen, and one of the male writers, Milt. Helen is portrayed as slightly ditzy, but efficient up to the point that she spills her ambitions to write comedy when a drunken Milt tries to corner her at a holiday party. There's an alarming suggestion that the scene might devolve into sexual assault and troubling relief that Milt "only" dismisses her as dumb and not funny.

The strength of the ensemble here is evident in the number of moments that could have been awkward or slightly sour nostalgia, but aren't. As Lucas, the newest member of the staff and the play's chorus, Andrew Behling gives an exceptionally good performance, breaking up at all the right points and letting subtle, slight discomfort shine through.

Behling reads believably as a man who both idolizes the old guard and is on the threshold of the new generation. He plays particularly well opposite Ren� Ruelas (Max) when the character is clearly in decline and still trying to connect. In fact, Behling's genuine hero worship gives Ruelas room to really explore that decline, trusting in the character of Lucas to make us love what Max once was.

Wayne Temple is having such a good time playing Milt, a writer as flashy as he is insecure, that the audience can't help having just as much fun. Joe Foust's Val is such a perfectly dour Russian so much of the time that his moments of outright comedy consistently pulled genuine laughs.

Steve Schine, a newcomer to First Folio, sat a little apart from the rest of the group as Kenny. Initially, this read as a bit of awkwardness, but the character unfolds as Max's mouthpiece and confidante. Overall, Schine's choice to hang back a bit works very well to convey the price he pays for that role.

Kevin McKillip commits entirely to Ira, the hypochondriac, over-the-top-almost-to-the-point-of-vaudeville Jew. The character is hard to take some times, but that's more because it's a style of character one either loves or hates than any fault in McKillip, and his radically dialed down emotional moments toward the end of the play are well earned.

Hayley Rice (Carol) and Steve Peebles (Brian) contribute stellar timing to the two characters that exist more at the margins of the group. Peebles and McKillip, in fact, manage to give an impressive edge to the tension between Ira and "the Gentile," salvaging what might otherwise have been a slightly tone deaf aspect of the play. Callie Johnson does light, lovely work early on as Helen. She's less successful in the party scene, but the blame seems to lie more with the material than the actor in that case.

"Laughter on the 23rd Floor" runs through March 1 at the Mayslake Peabody Estate, 1717 W 31st St., Oak Brook, IL 60523. For tickets or information, call 630-986-8067 or visit www.firstfolio.org.