The Second City keeps its promises and absolutely slaps.

The Second City began as a small comedy cabaret in Chicago in 1959. In the more than sixty years since, it has grown to become one of the most famous comedy venues in the country. This Too Shall Slap, is the 113^th Mainstage Production by the team there, and proof that age is just a number.

A two-hour sketch comedy show, bursting with musical numbers, bits as short as a minute and extended sketches, the time absolutely flies by. The set is colorful but simple, and costumes are minimal. This gives the ensemble, with the help of light and musical cues, to grab the audiences attention and keep it for the entire run. “Comedic whiplash” is an appropriate way to describe the absolute sonic speed with which the players fly through their scenes. The thing about a sketch comedy show like this, as opposed to New York City institution SNL, is that it was developed in tandem with the performers and director, rehearsed and planned and will be performed, and still more honed into perfection for many more week. It makes for a polished, controlled experience, without any visible strings being pulled.

The ensemble is a seamless team, each playing to their strengths. Several of the cast have unexpectedly good singing voices and each get a moment or two to shine, there were also several dance numbers that were frankly joyous. Adonis Holmes has that unique ability to stay grounded and relatable, no matter how far outside the bounds of normal behavior his characters seem to stray, for example when he loses his cool in an anger management workshop and devolves to wordless, high-pitched screaming. Jordan Stafford has the perfect gangly grace to abruptly appear in a teacher’s lounge to dance his goodbye since the school has cut all arts or become so angry he becomes Spider Man. Leila Gorstein commits to her roles, whether as a nutso meditation teacher or an unhinged bodybuilder with an intensity that is as formidable as it is hilarious. Hanna Ingle has a bouncy energy that played to great effect in a sketch sending up a Paula Dean –type character. Bill Letz often leans into the role of midwestern neighbor next door perfectly, except for when he’s a terrifying waiter with supernatural powers.

The sketches themselves run from silly to razer sharp commentary. This ensemble is not afraid to make a statement and the show manages to be bitingly political while dancing lightly over any accusation of heavy-handedness. I had the luck to be sitting between a group of middle-school boys and a group of senior citizens, and both groups spent the evening howling with laughter. That is an impressively tight line to walk, but the ensemble made it look effortless.

My favorite sketches were a musical number reminiscent of Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation – except it was about an Autocratic one. There was also a running gag begun by a well-meaning school nurse who’s only solution to illness, injury or sadness is Gatorade. The jokes and call backs are thread effortlessly through the night; there were some gags so irresistible that the audience was joining in by the end.  The whole thing builds to a ridiculous climax which, appropriately, closes with a dance number. There was a spontaneous, and well deserved, standing ovation.

It helps that the staff at Second City is attentive and polite, and the place itself is run like the well-oiled machine that it is.  This show is a reminder of the power and importance of the arts (comedic especially) when the world seems to have lost its mind. If you are looking for a night that is seamlessly funny, topical and cathartic, this is the show for you.

Highly Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

This Too Shall Slap plays Tuesday – Thursday at 8pm, Friday – Sunday 7pm and Fridays and Saturdays 10pm. Located at 1616 N. Wells St. Chicago. Tickets start at $29 and are available at The Second City Box Office, by phone at 312-337-3992 or online at www.secondcity.com.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.