Zany Shenanigans in Flea’s “Clown Brain” By Kelly Monaghan Do clowns get depressed? Not really, it seems, but they can feel less than bubbly. It's just this sort of existential angst that drives Dick, a distinctly less than bubbly clown, to the psychiatrist’s couch in Dick Monday’s wry and whimsical “Clown Brain,” at the Flea Theater. The roots of Dick’s ennui seem banal at first. For starters, he feels victimized by his name. “I was a Dick before a Dick was a dick,” he laments. But hidden in the long silences is a momentous secret. As a child, Dick received a mysterious gift from a carnival pitchman passing through his small Nebraska town—a clown brain. Placed under his pillow, it made Dick, well, different. “It was like having a new door installed in my brain,” he says. The denizens of Dick’s clown brain are played by the New York Goofs, a troupe of physical comedians founded by Monday and devoted to preserving nearly forgotten performance skills. In the hip confines of Off Broadway, there’s not much call for eccentric dancing, comic juggling, broad pantomime, clownish pratfalls, and the ability to play an odd assortment of musical instruments oddly. They’re all on display here in the service of a delightful exploration of Dick’s childhood, first love, and eventual reconciliation with the otherness of his clownish persona. The result is surprisingly successful and often touching. In one captivating interlude, Dick meets Slappy (Tiffany Riley), a kindred soul with whom he falls instantly and reciprocally in love, much to his mother’s disapproval. Riley has a gamine quality that makes her instantly endearing, whether playing Dick’s childlike id, a vamping sex object, or the sweet and soulful Slappy. And the chemistry between Riley and Monday is intense. Monday, a graduate and former director of the Ringling Brothers Clown College, is professionalism incarnate. His handsome face, rather baleful in repose, is capable of extremes of hilarity, and his talents range from juggling feathers to playing the saw. It’s hard not to imagine that a lot of “Clown Brain” is autobiographical which, for me at least, deepened the enjoyment of the piece. The show is not nonstop hellzapoppin’ zaniness. There are long contemplative passages that seem to muse on the therapeutic process. Fortunately, sitting perfectly still and fluttering an eyelid, Monday can be just as funny as he is in his hyper-kinetic set pieces. “New vaudevillians,” as troupes like the Goofs have come to be called, face a conundrum. Since no self-respecting New York intellectual would be caught dead at a “variety show,” these latter day-vaudeville performers must construct ironic, post-modernist riffs and surround themselves with performance art pretense. “Clown Brain” is typical of the genre, though perhaps more of a play than most. The real gift of this bit of fluff is to give us the intellectual cover to surrender to the guilty pleasure and sheer joy of watching these ingratiating and talented performers do their deliriously wacky thing. Three other New York Goofs in “Clown Brain” are: Joel Jeske, who brings a wicked grin and maniacal laugh to his role as the show’s madcap musical maestro; Michael Preston, suitably annoying as the Tab-slurping shrink; and Hilary Chaplain, who loses her dignity with aplomb when called on to do so. Clown Brain is at the Flea Theater, 41 White St. until 11/17. Performances are Thurs. - Sat., 9:30 pm, with an additional 7 pm show on Sat. and 2 pm matinee on Sun. $20 Tickets are available at the theater or through SmartTix at 206-1515.