Two TV Actors Turn Their Talent Toward ‘Accomplice’

Actors Harry Shearer and Michael McKean have a little secret. And they’re not talking.

The secret lies in “Accomplice,” a new play by Rupert Holmes (“The Mystery of Edwin Drood”), which is opening Sunday at the Pasadena Playhouse.

What to say without giving away the thematic conceit? “Well, the boring thing to say is that it’s the blurring of fantasy and reality and theatrical conventions and stuff like that,” said Shearer. “But that doesn’t make me want to see it. I’d call it a very clever fugue on a theme of an English thriller.”

Audience participation--and ignorance--fuels the fun. “It’s like those Russian boxes that you keep opening and finding another box inside,” added the Los Angeles native. “It’s also like an amusement park ride, a very cleverly designed amusement park ride--where every bump and twist is designed to be for the momentary shock, but eventual pleasure, of the audience.

“It’s not so much that Rupert is playing pranks on the audience; a prank makes the audience the butt (of the humor). What Rupert says is, ‘OK, you’ve caught up with me at the point of this convention. Now I’m going to push down the wall of that convention--and we’re in a different convention. Now, come inside with me and let’s play.’ ”

Both performers (Shearer is well known for his work on “Saturday Night Live,” McKean for his amiable Neanderthal Lenny on “Laverne & Shirley”) were attracted by the untraditional nature of the work.

“There are some people who crave convention,” shrugged McKean. “That’s never an interesting audience to play for. They’re there and, God bless ‘em, their money’s as good as anyone else’s. But if you do that (kind of work), you’re limiting your own possibilities. And it’s just not as much fun.”

During their 19-year friendship (the pair met as co-performers/writers for the satirical radio show “The Credibility Gap”), McKean and Shearer have worked alone and together; their last collaboration was the co-writing (with Rob Reiner and Christopher Guest) and appearance in the 1984 film spoof “This Is Spinal Tap.”

“Last night, I started recognizing Harry’s rhythms again,” noted McKean (“1941,” “Used Cars,” “D.A.R.Y.L.” and “Clue”). “Since it went through the process--someone else had written it and someone else had directed it--it took awhile. But last night, I realized there were a couple of places when I was just playing off of Harry, and it really reminded me of the old days.”

Shearer believes their non-reliance on old business is a healthy sign. “The conditions are good,” he said. “It’s a world premiere, the author’s there every day, the director and actresses are great to work with. So there was no temptation to retreat into the old friendship as a safe harbor from the rest of what’s going on--because the rest of what’s going on is so good.”

Although McKean (a graduate of Carnegie Mellon and New York University) last appeared on stage 20 years ago, he had little trepidation about taking the role.

“It’s been a long time since I had to memorize so much stuff,” he admitted. “But it’s been fun, like combing through a lot of old mental dandruff. Other than that, the only pressure I feel about this is the pressure to do it right. And that’s feeling less like a pressure every day. It’s like breaking in a pair of shoes; it’s not so hard anymore. But I can’t think about any of those (external expectations). I’m not doing this for my career.”

“ I’m doing this for your career,” quipped Shearer, 45. “I did a play here three years ago, ‘Beyond Therapy.’ I’m not necessarily a big theater buff, but I sure liked working on that. I don’t go to a lot of plays, but I don’t go to a lot of movies, either. Basically, I’m not a big fan of naturalistic theater, but of things that sort of play with the form. So I was ripe for this.”

He shook his head. “You read so many scripts that seem like they’ve been written by people in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. So when a script comes in by a person with his full mental powers intact, you automatically pay attention. What was on the page was pretty irresistible.”

So irresistible that neither worried about industry speculation? “You’d be surprised how little that matters to me,” shrugged the New York-born McKean, 41, married for 18 years and the father of two boys. “I don’t think it should matter to anyone. I don’t feel at all vulnerable. No one’s stood up in the audience yet and said, ‘Get back on the TV screen.’ If they do feel that way, it’s like: ‘Who asked you?’ ”

For Shearer, the stage detour is also a vacation from his other guises, which include the syndicated “Le Show” (broadcast locally on KCRW-FM), essays for national publications and co-writing the Albert Brooks film “Real Life.”

“This is intelligent stuff, it looked like it’d be fun to do,” he explained of the choice. “Pasadena is not a terrible drive. Doing the play is a certain amount of challenge--but not too much. And if you sit around and write or direct for a while, nothing is more fun than to say: ‘Tell me where to stand.’ It’s the privilege of saying: ‘Now I’ll just be an actor, let go of the other stuff.’ I’m not saying I abdicate all thinking. But it is refreshing to say, ‘OK, for this period of time, I’m a hired hand.’ ”

In this case, it’s also an opportunity for the outspoken Shearer to be totally non-political. “I choose what I do as an actor not based on that content, but if it looks fun and interesting,” he emphasized. “Nothing I’ve ever done as an actor has had any political content to it. That gets very well satisfied by what I do on the radio.”

And yet, McKean kids, “You wouldn’t take a part as an actor that you violently disagreed with politically, would you? I mean, you wouldn’t play (outspoken lawyer) Brendan Sullivan in ‘The Oliver North Story.’ ”

“I might,” Shearer said wickedly. “I almost certainly wouldn’t be in something that repelled me or really violated what I believe in. I’d think twice about being in an industrial (film) for the people who run the nuclear weapons plants that are leaking radiation and toxic waste into the surrounding areas. And I probably wouldn’t emcee a testimonial dinner for (cigarette-makers) R.J. Reynolds. . . . “