When a show comes alive, there are so many things that can go right or wrong. Its foundation is dependent on the combined efforts of the actors, set designers, directors and stage managers. Sometimes all of these elements come together and truly bring a script to life. But even in this situation, there's always one possible irrevocable flaw that cannot be fixed regardless of a great presentation: the writing. Such was the problem with the one-act plays of An Adult Evening of Shel Silverstein by Shel Silverstein, presented by the Brandeis Players this past weekend at the Carl J. Shapiro Theater. The individual pieces were well acted and well directed, but the jokes dragged on for too long and the punch lines were dropped.

The person to blame is clearly Shel Silverstein. Many of us will remember our parents reading his stories to us as children. The Giving Tree, A Light in The Attic, Where the Sidewalk Ends were wonderful classic children's stories and poem collections that didn't try to be funny, as his Adult stories painfully display. What Silverstein essentially crafted here was a series of one-acts that seemed to be intended to puncture his image as a children's author by proving he could write an adult comedy. But rather than going about this process intelligently, he resorted to using crude jokes, unnecessarily misogynistic material and overly intellectualized explanations of his set-ups.

The acts themselves were split into 10 segments, each one lasting about 10 minutes. The show began with "One Tennis Shoe," featuring a couple played by Harry Webb '12 and Ilana Spector '11. The man, Harvey, accuses his girlfriend, Sylvia, of being a bag lady. Harvey attempts to prove his theory by pointing out the random items she possesses in her bag, which include a single tennis shoe, an old picture frame and a bowl of oatmeal she stole from a diner. This is pretty funny material, but the problem is that it all becomes diluted. The performers, however, did the best they could with the material, playing their characters with sincerity. The set was also appealing, with a simple café table helping to heighten the mood. The audience was responsive too, despite some lulls in the laughter. This piece, luckily, doesn't drag on for too long, which is a huge issue with some of the other acts.

Take, for example, "The Lifeboat is Sinking," which presents a couple, Jen and Sherwin, played by Emily Rubin-Falcone '13 and Daniel Liebman '12. Jen gives Sherwin the classic question: "If your mother, our daughter and I were all on a sinking lifeboat with you and you had to throw one of us overboard so we could survive, who would you choose?" Again, the setting is clear, and the actors paint a wonderfully vivid picture of this sinking boat in the middle of the ocean. Although they are in a basic bedroom setting, the mood manages to come alive thanks to the acting. Unfortunately, despite some early funny interplay between the two characters, the joke starts to die when Sherwin throws away the pillow representing his mother.

Another example of a good set-up and poor payoff is "Wash and Dry," which features a Laundromat owner, George, played by Yoni Bronstein '13 and his client Marianne, played by Brianna Bensenouci '12. Again, the early back-and-forth between these two is hilarious, with both actors portraying their characters with astounding resilience despite the dragged-out premise. The set here is nicely constructed. George's desk and the hanging bags behind him serve to accurately portray a Laundromat setting. The actual comedic content of the play, however, comes to a halt as the jokes peter on in the second half.

The least-funny act of the night was "Thinking Up a New Name For The Act," which was split into four segments that literally consisted of nothing but the performers saying "meat and potatoes" to each other over and over again. No amount of good acting or set design could have saved this one, as the jokes seemed to exist only to the serve the purpose of making obscene gestures.

This crude comedy also bled into the pieces "Going Once" and "Buy One, Get One Free." Both presented girls for sale to the highest bidder, the former being sold by an auctioneer and the latter selling themselves with rhyme. Some of these rhymes were clever, but overall both pieces just consisted of blatant misogynist principles. Now, I understand that the pieces were not actually trying to promote prostitution, but the jokes simply had no backup and no punch line. The audience seemed to agree, as most of the laughter seemed polite at best.

Of all 10 acts, there were two that were successful from beginning to end. The first was "The Best Daddy," which presented a father (Liebman) informing his daughter (Corrie Legge '14) that he shot her pony, which would have been her birthday present. Eventually he reveals that he was just joking-he didn't shoot her pony, he shot her fat sister! These jokes actually worked very well, with the element of absurdity finally working because it knew how to be ridiculous and didn't try to explain itself. The audience got a kick out of it too. There were many whispers to my left and right, excitedly anticipating who was really under that sheet.

The final act, "Blind Willie and the Talking Dog," successfully established an emotional connection between the audience and the characters. The relationship between Willie (Bronstein) and the dog Barney (Webb) was evident and very well- acted, both through their surprisingly funny banter and through the love they showed for each other when the two almost parted ways at the end. This had definite elements of Silverstein's best writings in it, especially with its clear similarities to The Giving Tree. The simple park bench setting worked as an excellent stage for the two characters' relationship to unfold, and the direction was spot-on, with the progressive beats of Willie's singing nicely timed with Barney's departure and return to create a sympathetic, emotional pull.

I think the success of the final piece definitively proves that Shel Silverstein is at his best when he's writing stories that contain a visible heart and soul, where the humor flows naturally out of its contents and not out of an attempt to appeal to a certain audience. That was the problem evident with An Adult Evening of Shel Silverstein.

It's unfortunate, especially since the performers on stage were really quite gifted. Everything about the physical presence of the show worked phenomenally. The actors were engaging, playing their parts to perfection, and the audience for the most part responded well to them. The sets were vibrant and lifelike, and the directing brought to life exactly what the author intended. It's just a shame that what the author intended was so misguided.