Shear Madness Not Mad Enough

Shear Madness

by Paul Portner

directed by Bruce Jordan

Stage II at the Charles Playhouse

ad infinitum

Shear Madness is a hair salon on Newbury St., not one of those trendy spots where the staff are convinced that they are works of art, but a small place with gaudy decor and hits of the early eighties playing on the radio. Tony Whitcomb (Thomas Ouellette), the playful and campy owner, has a green apron--to match the wallpaper--and pink shoe-laces on his white hightops--to match his tight white jeans and pink polo. He also flirts like a horny teen, minces and flaps his limp wrist: Whitcomb exploits all the routine mannerisms used to indicate that someone is gay. His assistant Barbara DeMarco (Rebecca Fasanello), has a thick Boston accent and blue hair to match her clothes. The patrons of the salon are a hetero geneous group Mrs. Shubert is a Boston socialite--they used to call her Muffy at Radcliffe; Edward Lawrence (Will LeBow) is an antiquarian who conducts business with a famous pianist living in the same building. There is Mike Thomas (Mark S. Cartier) a geeky guy with a bowtie who opens his eyes really wide whenever Whitcomb touches him suggestively and Nick Rossetti (Michael Fennimore) who walks into the salon to the sound of "Macho Man," construction hat on. The play revolves around the interaction of these disparate comic types.

Soon, there is more than primping and styling going on in the salon. Lawrence turns out to be a suspect in the blackmailing of Isabelle Czerny, the pianist. Thomas and Rossetti turn out to be undercover policemen, summoned by her to keep an eye on Lawrence. Czerny turns out stabbed with a pair of shears.

So the play poses--literally--the obvious question: whodunit? Was it the queen, the lady in waiting, the grande dame, or the suspicious antiquarian? The right answer is any of the above. Shear Madness asks the audience to reconstruct the events, interrogate the suspects, and vote on the assassin. The ending of the play is democratically determined. Interactive theater, no less.

Shear Madness has been running continuously for ten years in Boston and has made it into the Guinness Book of World Records as the longest-running non-musical play in the country). It is playing simultaneously in six other American cities not to mention Tel Aviv, Buenos Aires, Budapest and Melbourne. The play relies on two gimmicks: setting the action in the city and year in which it is playing and populating it with local caricatures and spontaneous humor. These ideas keep the ten-year-old act from becoming dated, as recent events are constantly mentioned--everyone from Nancy Kerrigan to Lorena Bobbit is brought in.

More than anything else, this play rests on the assumption that everyone--not just your roommate--wants to feel more insightful and intelligent than those around. Shear Madness gives everyone and their mother (and roommate) the chance to enact Sherlock Holmes fantasies.

The challenge, however, is not to your detective skills but to your memory. Who went out what door, at what time? Suspicious actions and meaningful words are sprinkled throughout the first half-hour of the play, leaving you the remaining hour to feel really observant as you confront the characters with their deeds. The production takes care of every detail to ensure your satisfaction and allay any doubts: at one point, a member of the audience is summoned to the stage to place a phone call to verify Mrs. Shubert's alibi. After running for ten years, no accusation is new, and an answer to every possible question has been carefully prepared.

The cast is highly efficient in their portrayals, relying heavily on caricature and improvisation. Ouellette's Whitcomb is particularly hilarious, although the P.C. police might not be too happy with his characterization of the gay hairdresser. The roles are one-dimensional enough for the actor to concentrate on adlibbing and reacting to the audience's demands: so question goes unanswered, no remark unchallenged, no provocation dismissed.

So, if you have twenty dollars to spare (twenty six on weekends) and have always thought of yourself as Nancy Drew or one of the Hardy boys, go see Shear Madness. After all, it's in the Guinness.