Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.

Every time I walk into the Elliot Program Center, I have to contain my giggles. I can’t help but remember a jaw-dropping performance by the Stanford Improvisors (SImps) that depicted a possessed apartment building who — taking the corporeal form of an octopus — mind-controls its tenants before being slain by the doorman. By the end, I nearly had to step out of the room lest I burst a blood vessel.

Such is the bread and butter of the SImps: sometimes confusing but always gut-tearing hilarity, made all the more impressive by the fact that every line is made up on the spot. Their shows from week five, improvised jukebox musicals and adaptations of “Top Gun,” were no exception. 

Before witnessing one for myself, I frankly had no idea how one improvises a jukebox musical (a production that uses preexisting, rather than original music). Now that I’ve seen a couple, I can confidently say I still don’t know how it’s done… only that the SImps can do it with remarkable skill. 

Even without advance notice, the actors made quick work of tough, audience-suggested song titles like “Fishing and Cars,” singing amusing melodies that also advanced a plot and developed their characters — of whom each actor had multiple.

The audience was on its toes throughout, trying to guess what title would come next (would it be “Twinkies”? “God’s Front Porch”?) and how it could possibly connect to the story at hand. Our hungry impatience was well-rewarded with kooky lines and catchy choruses. I will always remember one piece of sage advice: “It isn’t always sunshine and rainbows; sometimes the rain is hot.”

One might mistake these rib-tickling moments for mindless farce, but this couldn’t be farther from the truth. Though the SImps make good use of slapstick humor (“Boots and Boobs,” anyone?), it’s impossible to overlook the razor sharp wit — and intellect — of the actors. In “Precious Cargo,” the audience was treated to an embedded narrative that mixed Melville and Homer, wherein “Captain Ishmael” tied himself to his ship’s mast as his crew sang the guttural “Boy Bale of Hay.” When Ishmael found out his first mate was dating his ex-wife, one could even see echoes of the jealousy and guilt in Melville’s “Billy Budd.”

Even if we cede these literary homages to accident, it spoke to a larger point: the SImps are not just comics. Though their performances are humor-forward, they also demonstrate incredible range. 

Take their performance of “Table’s Attorney” for example: despite the goofy title, we saw quite a bit of emotional depth from the characters. They cracked jokes, of course, but they also were very capable of making angry accusations, falling out terribly and reuniting for a tender, heartfelt apology scene — all interleaved with musical numbers, no less. 

No matter how utterly silly the preceding moments are, each of the SImps shows end in a meaningful denouement. Though this might read cheesy to some (they do appear to have a bias towards American optimism and happy endings), I enjoy it immensely.

Given that the actors are just as lost as the audience is to start, the final portion of a SImps performance is an undeniably impressive synthesis of initially-scattered scenes. Instead of feeling rushed, they seem to be thoughtful pieces of framing. How one makes a Lovecraftian octopus seem intentional and thoughtful I do not know, yet somehow they manage. 

Even where the explicit point of the show is humor, as with the SImps’ improvised “Top Gun,” there is still abundant skill to be found. Here, accidents, slips of the tongue and props became integral parts of a character’s persona. The actors adapted to music and lighting thrown at them in the blink of an eye, changing library scenes into steamy romance as soon as the pink lights came on or the music changed tone.

The most magical part of the SImps’ talent for improvisation is that the audience doesn’t notice it. It’s not just that we are blinded by humor (though there are times when I was too doubled over to actually look at the stage), but that the more serious side of the performance is subtle. Instead of siloed personalities, each a static foil, we get interactions that develop both characters at once — like when the shy “Top Gun” pilot egged on the bratty one, culminating in a surprise fight with a surprise outcome. These scenes electrified the crowd until we found ourselves cheering for one cadet and hissing at another. Far from inadvertent, the SImps seem to have a steady hand on the pulse of the attendees, leading them to and fro across the stage. 

Taken together, this all makes for a very approachable theater experience. Even for those who have no special appreciation for improv, the SImps’ performances have an undeniably magnetic appeal. 

If you get over the fact you have to bike to Governor’s Corner — the only cost of admission — you’ll soon find yourself sucked into a world of witty and bizarre vignettes that you won’t soon want to escape. You don’t need to dig deeply into the SImps’ acting styles or literary references to enjoy the show; you simply need to show up and let yourself be whisked away at breakneck speed.