Odd Birdz

The tone of Tziporela's Odd Birdz is established from the moment you enter the Players Theatre (where the Israel-based sketch-comedy troupe is now returning to New York City for the second summer in a row). "Would you like to have some wine with us?" asks a friendly face. A cast member walks up and down the aisle distributing little chocolate hearts, while others request help arranging the set and choosing costumes. One might expect such aggressive hospitality and familiarity when invited to dinner at the home of a large family of Tel Avivim, but in an off-Broadway theater it's somewhat disorienting. Tziporela are trying so hard to please, which would normally be off-putting. Amazingly, however, they win you over with their prodigious charm. This is the perfect show if you want a few lighthearted laughs conveyed through a seemingly endless well of creativity.

Tziporela is kind of like the Israeli Second City. Odd Birdz is a series of comedy sketches commenting on the absurdities of daily life in Israel and abroad. Ben Perry plays a très gay passport-control officer welcoming visitors to the Holy Land. Tamara Klayngon, Naama Amit, Efrat Aviv, and Dana Ivgi become a gaggle of gal pals whose banter has taken on a rhythmic quality. Gal Friedman and Tomer Nahir Petluk portray an argyle-clad couple of Israeli intellectuals having a very public fight in the audience. It's all very silly and irreverent, more dependent on wacky performances than acerbic satire.

Luckily, the players rise to the task. Friedman has an intense glare and delightful rapport with the audience. Perry lends a mischievous grin to all of his characters. Igvi lip-synchs for her life. Everyone seems to be changing costumes at a mile a minute.

With her expressive face and cartoonish physicality, Aviv gives the evening's most memorable performance. A real high point is a scene in which Aviv and Ivgi play dueling mourners at a grave, going to extreme lengths to telegraph their devotion to the deceased. Aviv's dance with Friedman (titled "Acrobatic Love") is quite impressive. Her shameless physicality and willingness to go over the top is reminiscent of Lucille Ball.

The troupe also incorporates dance, song, and visual art, setting them apart from similar sketch-comedy groups. A scene in which Ivgi and Omri Doron draw on each other's costumes with fabric markers is heartwarming. Aviv wows us with a puppet show in which she manipulates paper dolls attached to two scuba flippers on her feet. It's all well-executed, with the cast committing to the inventiveness of their DIY design.

Tziporela's youthful and joyous energy is definitely enough to fill a long, narrow, and somewhat cavelike proscenium theater like the Players, but you can't help thinking that their brand of up-close-and-personal comedy would play even better at a more intimate club space (preferably one with a fully stocked bar). This is something they should consider if they return to New York for a third summer, which I very much hope they do.