Lil Chuck at the Charles Playhouse, Boston MA. *** out of 5. Part improv show, part frat/sorority rave, and part genuine attempt at classical acting, this long-running (since 2010 in the UK and 2015 here) phenomenon sends half a bottle of Jack Daniels down the throat – goose paté style, I expect – of one of six cast members as a preshow. Heckling audience members, not unlike plebeians in a Roman arena, demand more shots and beer in the course of an hour’s distillation (distillery?) of a Shakespeare play, and if the intent is to send a fox into the henhouse to create chaos, it works. The designated drinker loses all inhibitions, and given the inviolable improv rule “Yes, and,” the rest of the company is forced to do likewise. By the end there was indiscriminate omnisex groping, F-bombs, and references to the movie 300 that originated God knows how, but that seemed appropriate to a version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream reduced to the antics of four horny teens in a wood. Biggest surprise of the night was how well-spoken this troupe was, managing to merge legit iambic pentameter with believable behavior. In fact, these Helena/Hermia, Lysander/Demetrius scenes have never been funnier in any “proper” production I’ve witnessed, so kudos all around. The cast started and ended anonymously – management should let them take bows and announce their names, for God’s sake – so I’ll credit Cara Clough, Peter DiMaggio, Liv Dumaine, Kody Grassett, Noelle Scarlett, and Kandyce Whittingham here. Seven others are part of the troupe on odd nights. Give this a try. As a Friday night out, you could do verse. (74 Warrenton St., open run. www.shit-facedshakespeare.us.)