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In 1980, it began: a phenomena dwelling in cabarets and small theatres in cities across the world. It's a play, specially site- designed for each city of production, marketed and rewritten just so to include as many recognizable place names so that it allows every new city in which it opens to believe that it was tailor- made for that specific location. This phenomena is Shear Madness, and it's now landed in Scottsdale.
I am in the unique position to have reviewed this production in 1987 in it's city of origination, Boston, and then seen another production of it in Washington D.C. in 1989. The first production was delightful, the second dreadful. It would have been nearly impossible to see this third incarnation without thoughts of the two previous shows, and so I dismissed myself from writing a review. But, while attending a Wednesday night performance with a friend who's an understudy, not intending to review the show, I was pleasantly surprised at how well the script has held up, and was moved to write a review anyway.
The show takes place in a swank Scottsdale hair salon whose name is the shows' title. Tony Whitcomb, the owner, a flitty, fruity stylist, and his assistant, the trashy Barbara DeMarco, service a bow-tied nerd, a dim, hulking bruiser, a questionable antiquarian, and a snobby socialite. They talk about the aging, crazed pianist who practices above, and it's realized that most of these people have some odd connection with this reclusive star intending her triumphant return to the Symphony Hall. As each personality clashes against the other, and tensions rise to the boiling point, the grisly discovery is made of the murder of the pianist above, stabbed in the throat with haircutting shears. The play then becomes a unique whodunit, involving the audience and bringing the best of dinner theatre to the stage.
There were many reasons to sourly prejudge this production. The New Scottsdale Playhouse is a converted moviehouse with horrible acoustics and generally poor lighting. Due to illnesses and accidents, some of the parts have been recast. The script is already seventeen years old, and might have shown signs of wear. Matt Callahan, the shows' director and "designer," has overcome all of these obstacles, though, and created a production that is simple, speedy and silly. No, it's not high drama, but sometimes it's good just to go somewhere to laugh, without having to think too much.
The standout of the cast was Richard Trujillo as Tony Whitcomb, the swishing-sweet stylist. His portrayal of Tony was not quite as large and obvious as others have played it. There was a genuine sense of fun, rather than an obvious sense of gay in his portrayal. Gene Ganssele was also solid as the dim Nick Rosetti. While he did have moments where his discussions with the audience threw him a bit, he still delivered some wonderful laughs. The rest of the cast played more "charicature," but kept up the pace and comedy of the show. Most impressive was the fact that everyone was loud enough to be heard. It's obvious that they were screaming to overcome the horrible acoustics, but that eventually worked well in the play, and even added a bit to the evening.
Kudos go to Mark Mettes lighting design and Deano Jacob's set, which finally utilized the space and enhanced the show. The realistic portrayal of the salon was wonderful, and the use of the plastic pipes in the sink were very impressive. Marjorie Bell's costumes were also dead-on, and all of the visual elements made the evening a delight to watch.
Admittedly, there is a sinister element behind the packaging and marketability of this show, and its perpetual performances, from Sao Paulo to Tel Aviv, but everyone from the most cynical and the most conscientious have to admit that there's nothing wrong with doing something often if you've managed to hit the right chord. The script may be a bit thin, especially when you consider such lines as:
"Oh, you're from (name of swank neighborhood).,"
"No, I'm from (name of embarrassing neighborhood)."
but if you're in the mood for simple slapstick, high energy and a mystery, too, then you'll love this show.
Production Details:
"Shear Madness" Created by Marilyn Abrams and Bruce Jordan
Theatre League
New Scottsdale Playhouse, Tempe
952-2881
Wednesday through Sunday 'til April 6th
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