Review: Brave New Workshop's comeback show is determined to soothe troubled souls

At one point during the latest production from Brave New Workshop, you wonder if the cast has lost its mind.

Near the end of "Back to Workshop or Everything's Fine!," running through Aug. 6 in downtown Minneapolis, veteran Lauren Anderson announces that she and her three co-conspirators are about to summarize the past two years.

What follows is a flurry of five-second sketches, highlighted by Taj Ruler's flash impressions of Anthony Fauci, Nancy Pelosi and the Tiger King. But after a few minutes, the players admit they're on a fool's errand and turn to a nuanced discussion of making deviled eggs.

It's a clever way of acknowledging the state of the world since 2020 — and that trying to come to grips with the madness is bound to drive us all a little nuts.

BNW, which has been around for more than 60 years, is renowned for its sharp political humor. But in its first show since a pandemic shutdown, a change in ownership and the death of founder Dudley Riggs, the troupe is taking a gentler approach.

This one feels like a therapy session.

One recurring sketch has cast members taking questions from an ominous human resources director, each doing their best to prove they're sane enough to come back to work. The setup gives the actors a chance to share personal anecdotes from their quarantine days, like Anderson admitting that she bought a deluxe trampoline.

There are a couple of serious moments: Doug Neithercott shares memories of growing up gay and Denzel Belin, a Black man, processes George Floyd's murder. Both are well written, thoughtful monologues, but they're somewhat out of sync with the comfort-food vibe.

The four cast members are all veteran performers, which comes in handy when they interact with the audience. During the show I saw, Neithercott smoothly shut down an intoxicated spectator. Anderson got one of the biggest laughs by teasing a doctor in the front row in a way only a polished comedian could pull off.

But age isn't always their best friend. After one piece that featured a little dancing, Neithercott dabbed his sweaty forehead as if he had finished a set of tennis with Rafael Nadal.

Mixing in younger, more energetic talent might inspire fresh material — and a stronger future.

There were other issues. The night I attended, only about half of the seats were full. A steady drip from the ceiling, right in front of center stage, proved a distraction.