Pajama Men: The Last Stand to Reason

A fluid ability to occupy multiple personalities verging on the schizophrenic: not the most conventional compliment. It is however the most appropriate when describing Mark Chavez and Shenoah Allen, otherwise known as The Pajama Men. The intensity with which they animate characters, such as a crazed gunman with an invincible son named Dan or trailer-trash mermaids, means you eagerly anticipate their reappearance in the narrative.

There is something distinctly childlike about two men dressed in pyjamas, constructing an entire imaginary journey with just two chairs and innumerable caricatured voices. But the execution is polished, and they are a genuinely tight and funny duo. The camaraderie between them is clear as they cover for one another during the (very minor) technical glitches and slip-ups.

During the scene where they play a reluctantly romantic Frenchman and an unspecified but very tiny “Cute Thing,” they hold hands and stare into each other’s eyes, and this reveiwer feels an unspecific but decidedly warm and fuzzy feeling unsurpassed since Lady and the Tramp nuzzled meatballs. This is perhaps due to the pair's ability to evoke entire characters, complete with back-story and irritating affectations, with little more than the tilt of a head or a particular cadence of speech.

Sadly, Chavez and Allen also share a tendency to milk certain mimes to the point of tedium. Conversely, their co-star Kevin Hume is underused, the predictable soundtrack he provides seeming restrictive of his abilities. His sole vocal in the finale gives tantalising glimpse of a talent not yet fully tapped.