In an interview last year, Neil Simon, the playwright of more than two dozen stage works, was talking about being 70 and about his newest play. “I know that I have reached the pinnacle of rewards,” Simon said. “There’s no more money anyone can pay me that I need. There are no awards they can give me that I haven’t won. I have no reason to write another play except that I am alive and I like to do it.”

And we like him to do it. Simply put: Neil Simon has, for 40 years, made us laugh. His plays, as many in number as Shakespeare’s, are almost always popular and have star quality. “The Odd Couple” is probably his most famous. But you can’t shrug off “Barefoot in the Park,” “The Sunshine Boys,” “Brighton Beach Memoirs” and “Lost in Yonkers,” for which he won the 1991 Pulitzer Prize for drama.

“Laughter on the 23rd Floor,” currently running at the Belfast Maskers Railroad Theater, is one that, surprisingly, never took flight. It’s clearly one of Simon’s favorites — largely because it waxes nostalgic for the heyday of television comedy writers. The hero of “Laughter” is Max Prince, a megalomaniacal comedian based on Sid Caesar, for whom Simon worked in the 1950s. He is surrounded by a cooperative of sharp-witted writers including a token goy and a token woman. The writing staff closely mirrors the one that Caesar had for his series “Your Show of Shows” — Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Carl Reiner, Larry Gelbart and Simon’s brother, Danny.

Although the team writes for a top-rated program, NBC is cutting its budget, cutting its staff and finally just plain cutting it. The jokes that loosely lay out the plot are funny enough in that Simonesque way. “This isn’t necessarily a brain tumor,” the Irish writer says to the hypochondriac writer. “Have you ruled out stupidity?” And here’s a one-liner: “I was driving so slow, the cop that pulled me over was walking.”

The cast, directed by Bill Raiten, doesn’t always nail the punch lines, and so clunky pacing and delivery hold this production back from building real momentum.

That’s not to say there aren’t entertaining spots in the show, however. A few individual performances are truly inspired. For instance, Douglas M. Coffin, as the Russian immigrant Val, is nothing short of elegant when it comes to comic timing and character crafting. His repartee with Keith Robinson, the dashing Milt, is the best shtick of the show. Robinson’s looks are about as Wonder Bread as possible, but he makes this role his own, and it works.

Charlie Hauer, as Ira, is emphatically convincing with his illness-of-the-day routine. Brian Ross, as the scathingly sensible Kenny, has a particular skill for drollery. Andrew McClure, as the feisty redhead, crows with cockiness. Cara Guerrieri, as Helen, is wiry and loud. And Cindy Robbins, as the secretary Carol, is bimboishly witty.

Dennis Harrington, as Max, has the toughest role of all because he has to be colossal without slipping into cartoonishness. Similarly, David Hallbert, as the new writer on the block, has to somehow slide in and out of narrator and cast member. Harrington is both wild and too wild, and the likable Hallbert is both mild and too mild.

There are lots of laughs to be had here — including at the loud ties costumer Elena Bourakovsky has dug up. The set design and construction crew has somehow expanded the Railroad stage to larger proportions and has filled it with both the furniture and the feel of a 1950s office.

The show has a seemingly crafted slow pace — which may simply be the result of missed cues. But Raiten has directed the actors to either come on strong or to fade into the scenery. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

The evening lasts about 2 1/2 hours, is in the spirit of TV’s “Dick Van Dyke Show” and is heavy with one-liners. The most interesting part of the show, however, is its historical backdrop of the McCarthy era and the kickoff of America’s fixation on TV culture.

The Belfast Maskers will present “Laughter on the 23rd Floor” 8 p.m March 13, 14, 20 and 21, and 2 p.m. March 15 and 22 at the Railroad Theater. For tickets, call 338-9668.