Think Murder on the Orient Express. Throw in a bit of Tex Avery. Make it a B-movie. Nope – I'm still struggling to express what the Pajama Men do on stage. But one thing's clear: their show is as hilarious as it was in Edinburgh last summer – and, given that the New Mexico duo improvise new material nightly, just as fresh.
All they have to work with is themselves: Mark Chavez and Shenoah Allen, two thirtysomethings in pyjamas. No props. No exits and entrances. One excellent musician, Kevin Hume. And with that, they stage a comic play about a passenger train through the States, richly populated by eccentrics, and bound for murderous trouble. There will be blood – and it's none the less lurid for existing only in our imaginations.
If Avatar has extended the boundaries of the possible in cinema, theatregoers never felt restricted in the first place, and the Pajama Men's shape-shifting shtick is a celebration of the medium. Two undead children enveloping one another in a kiss? A cute creature of no known origin, thrown from a moving locomotive? Who needs special effects? Chavez and Allen are brilliant mime artists – although you seldom notice the virtuosity for laughing at the jokes.
These include funny routines, as when Chavez's cop subjects Allen's criminal (and Allen himself) to a lie-detector test; and funny characters, such as the holidaying biddy who hijacks a knock-knock joke to tell her friend she's fat. Then there are the twisty verbal gags that slap you on the back of the head while staring you in the face. Funniest of all is the cheerful presence of two young comics, teasing one another while working together like clockwork for our entertainment. This is that rare thing in the UK: a train journey so enjoyable you won't want to get off.
