Stage Review : Turn Up the ‘Heat’ and You Get Drama So Bad It’s Funny

About 15 minutes into a recent performance of Way Off Broadway’s “Heat” in Santa Ana, a woman turned to the man next to her and asked, “Is this supposed to be a comedy? Isn’t it supposed to be serious or something?”

The man didn’t have a ready answer, but a guy behind him did. He laughed from the get-go, and most of the audience was doing the same by the middle of the first act.

The thing is, William Hauptman’s play, based on a 1964 Arizona murder case, isn’t meant to be funny--it’s meant to be provocative and chilling, a presentation of the criminal psyche on parade.

But “Heat” is hilarious, a jaw-droppingly bad drama that has the thematic structure of a collapsing desert shack and the character development of a Saturday morning cartoon. It rambles and weaves and stumbles and poops out. “Heat” is, simply, a marvel.

The inspiration is Charles (Smitty) Schmid, a puny Tucson 23-year-old with Charlie Manson eyes and a bungled psychological makeup. At a time when “Hang On Sloopy” and “The Pied Piper” were the big hits, Schmid seduced the local teen-agers with his tough-stuff image and became something of a home-grown celebrity.

But adulation wasn’t enough; he wanted to go further. The result was a conviction for killing three girls in a sandy arroyo outside the city limits. Smitty, it turned out, didn’t only look a little crazy, he was crazy--a lot crazy.

No reason not to write a play about Schmid. Our fascination with criminally bent wackos seems to be boundless, and there’s always room for more insight into the workings of the psychopathic mind.

Hauptman’s drama, however, has no discernible point of view, no apparent awareness of the moral or societal implications of Schmid. It is satisfied with presenting a confusing, helter-skelter narrative that follows Carroll Prine (read: Charles Schmid) through a series of disconnected episodes centered around the murders.

But even this criticism makes the piece sound more serious and sophisticated than it is. Besides the crazy-quilt organization, “Heat” is most amazing for its dialogue. In fact, one thing that can be said for the Way Off Broadway cast is that they didn’t giggle while spouting these lines.

A sampling:

Carroll explains his hair style to a girlfriend--”You’ve got to comb your hair back so your head looks like it’s always moving toward something.”

A would-be novelist, when not bludgeoning people, Carroll tells another girlfriend that his latest book is called “The Guitar That Tortured Women.”

On what he plans to do after leaving Tucson--”At every stop, I’ll burn the Gideon Bible.”

On the midnight moon--”It looks just like a shiny hubcap.”

In Hauptman’s interpretation of Schmid, a 45 r.p.m. record is part of what sets him off in one of the murder scenes. Twisting the record in the air, he says that it reminds him of the moon (he dwells on the moon a lot), but another girlfriend disagrees, saying it reminds her of his black hair. Enraged at being called “a record head,” he bumps her off.

Some maniacs are so touchy!

As for the players, it is safe to say that they end up in a pretty compromising position. A few of the actors (notably Michael Kemp and Brenda Beals), who were so much fun in Way Off Broadway’s “Out of the Frying Pan,” are out to sea in this one. Thomas Moore, stuck with portraying Carroll, has the least enviable job. He responds by making Carroll an eye-bulging combination of Manson and Bela Lugosi.

This Tony Reverditto-directed production has a couple of positive points. Fred Genge shows potential, even while playing a schizophrenic gas station attendant who wanders around town in pajamas. And Michael O’Malley has a few unaffected moments as Joe Billy Fields, a lame cowboy who dreams of becoming an upholsterer.

‘HEAT’

A Way Off Broadway production of William Hauptman’s drama. Directed by Tony Reverditto. With Thomas Moore, Michael Kemp, Autumn Brook Remelin, K.C. Schultze, Marnelle Ross, Fred Genge, Carol Giglio, Brenda Beals and Michael O’Malley. Lighting by Gregory Bach. Sound by Tony Reverditto. Final performances Thursday through Saturday at 8 p.m. at 1058 E. 1st St., Santa Ana. Tickets: $8 to $10. (714) 547-8997.