By Briyah Paley
Most plays are lucky if they make it through the first year. “Shear Madness” has been running for 22 years at the Charles Playhouse in Boston and all over the world. The wacky murder mystery comedy credits its success to a cast of performers who are able to do improvise, changing the show each performance.
As the audience sits down in a cabaret-like setting with drinks readily available, they face a unisex hairstyling salon on Newbury Street. Songs from the past play and a male hairdresser, who is very much out of the closet, greets his customers. In a few minutes, a murder will be committed and it is up to the audience to figure out who did it.
“Sometimes if the audience is dead, the show is horrible,” said Amelia Forsythe, an 18-year-old student at Mass College of Art and a production assistant for the show. Forsythe’s mother is an understudy in the play.
Although the cast changes once or twice a week, Patrick Shea, who plays Tony Whitcomb (the hairdresser), has been with the show since it began.
Shea and the rest of the cast are not afraid to take a jab at the audience members. When one man got up to go to the bathroom, Michael Fennimore, who plays policeman Nick Rossetti, said, “Hey, where are you going?” The man looked embarassed, but it was just another laugh-out-loud moment in the play.
“Shear Madness” is the brainchild of Paul Portner, a German playwright. It was then adapted by Marilyn Abrams and Bruce Jordan, who acquired world stage, film and television rights. Interactive theater seems to work especially well in this show because the actors set it up so everyone can participate.
“You have to make the audience important. Their imput must be cherished,” Jordan said.
There are six characters; Barbara DeMarco is Tony’s bimbo assistant, Mrs. Shubert is their elderly socialite customer, Eddie is an antique dealer with a mysterious briefcase, and Mike and Nick are the customers who turn into cops when the famous classical pianist living upstairs is murdered.
The actors drop clues as to who the murderer is, along with improvised bits which included references to “American Idol” and the Boston Red Sox in a show last week.
“We read the Herald in the dressing room for the sensationalist headlines,” Fennimore said.
Another aspect that makes the show so hilarious is the way it plays on stereotypes. For example, the cops put evidence in a Dunkin’ Donuts bag and the gay hairdresser wears a pink shirt and has a high feminine voice. The socialite makes fun of Brighton, a Mass. suburb, yet she steals a bottle of perfume from the shop.
At $34 a ticket, the show isn’t specifically catered to a student budget, but it’s worth it for a night of fun and laughter. And you never know, you just might solve the crime.