‘Catskills on Broadway’ Shows Shtick-to-Itiveness

The Catskills--the summer camp of 20th century American show business--was inits idealized form a bucolic, gorgeous, Jewish version of Shakespeare’s Illyria. Or a Forest of Arden inhabited by comedians who always, always had 10 good minutes at the ready.

The big resorts may be gone, as is the century that brought so many New Yorkers out of New York and into the hills. But those hills are alive--forever--with the sound of “Bei Mir Bist Du Schon.”

At the end of the Wilshire Theatre engagement of “Catskills on Broadway,” which might also be called “Four Guys Four,” the comics deliver some farewell jokes, in between verses of, yes, the Catskills anthem “Bei Mir Bist Du Schon.” It’s a nice capper to a paradoxical night out: a leisurely evening of relentless joke-telling.

Three-quarters of the cast played L.A. the last time, in 1993. Freddie Roman, who looks like a friendlier version of Lionel Stander, sets the tone at the top. Welcome to “Catskills on Broadway,” he says, “or, as I like to call it, ‘The Angina Monologues.’ ”

The Catskills may be the through-line for this unadorned evening of stand-up, but the subject of Florida retirees provides the most fodder. Florida’s state bird? The early bird, as in “early bird special.” In his introductory set Roman delivers these and other gags with an easy wink and well-practiced smile.

Dick Capri, another “Catskills on Broadway” vet, works in distinct contrast to Roman. He’s at once smoother and harder-charging, a fount of why-did-I-ever-marry jokes. He is also the self-designated outsider, an Italian American among Jews, which gives him license to reel off a spool of Jewish jokes. (Yiddish soap opera: “All My Children Are Too Busy to Call Me.”)

He’s followed by Mal Z. Lawrence, whose sheer velocity is remarkable. Like Capri, he acts as a correspondent from the male-female wars. Retro? Yes. There’s a lot about cooking and cleaning and packing, and arguing. (Married man to wife: “Good morning, honey. Did I do anything you didn’t like yet?”) But Capri’s an easygoing pro.

In general the evening’s song parodies are retro in the wrong way: Everybody’s song lists are stuck in decades past, when “Killing Me Softly” was the latest platter in the jukebox. The fourth performer on the bill, Scott Record, does “singing comedy impressions,” which aren’t bad, but undercut by Record’s popeyed tendency to mug. Nearly fatally, Record ends his segment with a “Phantom of the Opera” medley, “in my own voice.” If I’d known “Catskills on Broadway” featured an utterly sincere “Phantom of the Opera” medley, I’d have scheduled a slight stroke to get me through it.

A separate, unofficial version of “Catskills on Broadway” really is on Broadway at the moment. It’s called “The Producers,” and it’s proof enough that the Catskills’ golden age may gone, but it’s long from forgotten.

* “Catskills on Broadway,” Wilshire Theatre, 8440 Wilshire Blvd., Beverly Hills. Tuesdays-Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 2 and 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 and 7:30 p.m. Ends May 13. $27-$52. (213) 365-3500. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes.