Ein tragikomisches Werk darüber, Frau zu sein und Schwierigkeiten mit anderen Frauen zu haben. Über Geschlecht als Konstrukt, Biologie oder einen Fluch. Über Fiktion und Realität und die Unfähigkeit, beides auseinander zu halten.
A, eine Frau in der Midlifecrisis, spioniert vier junge Frauen in einem Friseursalon (dem „Zentrum der Weiblichkeit“) aus, versucht, ihnen mit allen verfügbaren Mitteln nahe zu kommen. Mette, Jorun, Trine, und die vor Kurzem dazu gestoßene Boogie, eine Fremde mit unklarer Vergangenheit und einem bemerkenswertem Talent für Buchhaltung. Wer sind diese Frauen? Wer sind ihre Kunden? Wer ist A selber? Was ist es, das ihr Gewissen trübt? Als Boogie verschwindet, werden A’s dubiose Machenschaften brutal offenbart.
“The Hairdressers is entertaining. At the core, the play is an astute description of women’s feeling of impotence when it’s allowed to grow to nightmarish dimensions. It’s a sharp look at a world of women where men are incompetent, and where “readiness for change” is nothing but a cliché in Cosmopolitan. Director Søren Iversen summons the mildest, wildest and weirdest in his charming female ensemble, and the players peak with hormones and humour.” (Anne Middelboe Christensen, Information)
“Astrid Saalbach’s new play about a stranger entering a claustrophobic house of mirrors is both witty and wacky. A danse macabre where realism and evil dreams meet. It’s rough and grotesque. But it’s … also satire on a high level.” (Klaus Rothstein, Weekendavisen)
“Entertaining, innovative and well put together. Full of funny and outlandish characters and episodes, that – at least for me – ring true. Handles big subjects, especially for women, worth considering for everybody.” (Katrine Tøt, Kulturshot)
“Good comic performances by five strong women. The salon symbolises an oppressive culture that holds women to impossible standards of beauty. The many changes of roles and masks is an interesting device in the play’s depiction of women as dress dolls, whose looks are dictated by men.” (*** Kristian Husted, Politiken)
“Aesthetically superb. A requiem in a house of mirrors, a mass for the estranged pseudo-female. The stage design by Stine Martinsen, who is also now starring at Folketeatret and Göteborg Stadsteater, is a precise metaphor for women’s never-ending self-reflecting emptiness, featuring moments of beautiful transformations.” (Maria Ciccia Smidl, Sceno)