Open Circle's The Cut: He Is Obsessed With Your Hair
Photo by David Wulzen.
Based on the book "Shorn: From Toys to Men," the memoir by Dennis Milam Bensie, Dustin Engstrom's The Cut, currently in production at Open Circle Theater in Belltown, is a show about a man under the spell of such a fetish. I haven't read the source material, but the fact that the events portrayed are based in fact makes this a harder show to pin down; the degree to which the show succeeds in conveying the obsessive world of the fetishist at its core is a moment-to-moment thing.
The show concerns Derick (Michael LaDell Harris, who leads a group of dedicated performances), a gay man who gets off on giving long-haired men a buzz cut. Not the end result, but the moment before, with clippers buzzing in hand at the ready, standing behind his prize about to make the first swipe. We may not understand or identify with the specifics, but that feeling of being on the cusp of something rapturous is universal.
The play begins with a hustler (Todd van der Ark) picking Derick up in a non-descript men's room, and we watch the exchange as it continues to a hotel room and ends with Derick claiming his first head of human hair. This moment works, because instead of just indulging in the sensuality of the atmosphere, director Gary Zinter instead focuses on the interplay of power between the two men right up until the young man disengages as soon as he realizes his hair is gone and there's no turning back.
From there, The Cut goes about the work of filling in the blanks in our hero's background, and it is here that we find ourselves in unsure footing. We meet Stefeny, Derick's childhood imaginary friend, a homemade Barbie doll with yarn for hair (played by Monica Wulzen, all innocently spicy in a nude body suit). She is Derick's first trophy, and she's around to serve as a counterpoint to Derick's mania. Their scenes together are alternately humorous and touching. That this relationship does not play as ludicrously as it reads on paper is a testament to the various talents involved.
Not all the relationships work, however; there's an inclusion of self-referential meta-dialogue between supporting characters--a device often used to illustrate a character's psyche via unconventional means--that didn't work for me on the night I saw it.
There story's structure is problematic; at times it felt like The Cut is presenting the central fetish as an addict's recovery allegory. I also had some issues with a fairly traumatic tableau just before intermission that is both off-putting, yet impact-ful, and seemingly comes out of no where (which might be the point, but it didn't feel that way).
That said, Engstrom and Zinter perfectly capture the isolation that comes with completely giving yourself over to an outside source for your pleasure. There's also a healthy dose of humor to the proceedings, largely provided by the supporting players. Van der Ark has a great turn as a confused phone-sex operator; David Rollison charms with a series of shlemiels and a care-worn portrayal of a pro who provides and seeks comfort from Derick. Scott Shoemaker turns in a couple of noteable performances as Derick's father and Derick's mothering gay roommate. Harris gives them all a strong center to revolve around.
As the audience was filing out after the show, I overheard a well-dressed young woman tell her friends that this was "the best theater [she] had seen in quite some time." I wouldn't go that far, it was a production I respected more than I liked, but I could see how she could say that. If any of the description given above captures your imagination, well, there's a little place down in Belltown...
Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. Sunday matinees at 4 p.m. through February 5 // Open Circle Theater 2222 2nd Ave // $14, tickets available at Brown Paper Tickets
