The Receipt Theater Review

In a world dominated by machines and awash in paper, it is little wonder that a discarded, computer-printed bar receipt could end up being one man's ticket to bedlam. That, at any rate, is the premise behind "The Receipt," a clever and funny show concocted by Will Adamsdale and Chris Branch and being presented at 59E59 Theaters as part of the Brits Off Broadway festival.

In a lost city: Will Adamsdale, left, and Chris Branch in “The Receipt.”

Messrs. Adamsdale and Branch employ three gray metal filing cabinets, a synthesizer and an Apple laptop to create a fable that fuses elements of Monty Python, "Beyond the Fringe," "Saturday Night Live" and even a dash of "Modern Times." The result is a diverting 75 minutes that mirrors the idiosyncrasies of contemporary civilization.

While "The Receipt" is primarily an extended skit, there is a story to propel it along. Two young archaeologists have discovered a lost city and are trying to decipher its culture through its artifacts. They have determined that it used lots of paper and lots of machines, many of which were named after fruits, and they have deduced from some signs they have found - "Come In. Relax. Have a Cup of Coffee," one reads - that its inhabitants had short memories and needed to be constantly reminded what to do.

They then postulate on the life of one citizen named Wiley who finds the paper receipt on the sidewalk and decides, to his ultimate undoing, to trace the person who lost it. Mr. Adamsdale takes on the character of Wiley, while Mr. Branch plays everyone he meets and provides on his synthesizer and laptop the white noise that is the background music to our daily existence - door buzzers, car alarms, security sirens, cellphones, Muzak, even sledgehammers. A subplot involves a woman who telephones a repair company and is put on hold.

If some of the humor occasionally veers toward the sophomoric, the substance of the show has some things to say about modern life, from the repetitive banalities to which language has sunk to the thin thread that ties machines to human sanity. Mr. Adamsdale and Mr. Branch are both polished performers, and their timing is meticulous, especially in the opening exposition, when they constantly interrupt each other. Mr. Adamsdale is a portrait of frustration as Wiley gradually deconstructs, and Mr. Branch has a deadpan that can get a laugh without raising an eyebrow.

"The Receipt" continues through May 27 at 59E59 Theaters, 59 East 59th Street, (212) 279-4200.