The Second City

There’s really no good reason why locals haven’t made The Second City their own, embracing the Chicago-based comedy troupe as one of those "locals secrets" they share with their out-of-town visitors, and one of the reasons they’ll venture to the Strip.

The comedy troupe puts up a fresh show at least once a year, with each edition having an overall quality that varies only within the range of "well worth seeing" to "amazingly good." But after six years, I’m still amazed at the lack of familiarity with Second City when I’m hit up for show tips.

Locals are far more loyal to "Mystere," which is kid-friendly but barely has changed a beat since 1993. Hence, the parking theory. The Treasure Island garage is a couple of easy right turns from an I-15 exit. The Flamingo Las Vegas has two garages, both of them labyrinths, and valet isn’t that much easier to find.

But it’s oh so worth it to see the guy (Michael Lehrer) who hires the no-nonsense Vegas hooker (Robyn Norris) to rehearse his marriage proposal for his gal back home.

Or the anxious dude (Rob Belushi) who wheels into a store to fast-grab some condoms before his gal loses the mood, only to be sized up and lectured by the seniors behind the counter.

It’s sketch comedy grounded in reality and an occasional touch of sweetness. It’s certainly less cartoonish than "Saturday Night Live," which brought the Second City format to the masses and continues to tap its talent pool (including Jason Sudeikis, who was part of the Flamingo cast in 2002 and ’03).

Belushi might be next in line to be called up, if only because his name (he’s the son of Jim, nephew of the late John). But here he’s just one-fifth of a strong team, and talent scouts will weigh his topical election-season rap against Lehrer’s soliloquy as a dancer at the Pork ‘N Dreams gay club, who is having a career crisis at 24 but believes in "the audacity of hope."

Newcomers Belushi, Lehrer and Norris join two carry overs from previous editions: Katie Neff and Paul Mattingly, a Las Vegan who came up through the ranks of the troupe’s local improv classes.

The two are memorable as a bickering couple on a second honeymoon: His overriding interest in the buffet is derailing her whale-watching and larger preconception of how the whole cruise would play out. The bittersweet familiarity will ring home with older crowds and balance other bits that go for the easy-raunch gut-buster.

This outing is directed by Bruce Pirrie, a Canadian veteran who has directed eight editions of Second City, and once performed alongside Mike Myers. He shapes this material with quickly drawn characters and an even hand, eliminating the erratic peaks and valleys of the past two Flamingo shows directed by Jim Carlson. If the highs aren’t as screamingly funny, the lows aren’t as squirmingly uncomfortable.

The cast can wring as much out of simple ideas — a trio of harmonizing monks — as the elaborately choreographed absurdity more favored by "SNL." Here, it’s a stoner (Belushi) getting repeatedly freaked out by an FBI agent (Mattingly) crashing into his apartment. It’s hard to explain. You need to see it.

And, if you’re a local who complains about the lack of variety or challenge on the Strip, you really need to see it.

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.