Naples, – In an era of theaters crowded with Hollywood musicals and digital stand-up, the beating heart of Neapolitan comedy still beats strong on the stage at the Teatro Totò. From November 7th to 16th, Via Cavara in Foria will transform into an arena of laughter and revelations with È asciuto pazzo 'o parrucchiano, the dramatic gem created in 1989 by Gaetano Di Maio and his daughter Olimpia.
Not a simple revival, but a theatrical ritual that resurrects collective memory: an explosion of popular humor where superstition mixes with daily miseries, and faith wavers between a fake miracle and a stolen confession.
At the helm of this explosive edition is Oscar Di Maio, a direct descendant of the glorious Di Maio lineage—the dynasty that shaped generations of Neapolitan comedians with cutting irony and down-to-earth poetry. Not only the star, but also the director: Di Maio infuses the work with visceral energy, transforming the original debut at the Teatro Sannazaro—starring the legendary Luisa Conte and directed by Giuseppe De Martino—into a vibrant and vibrant tribute.
"It's not nostalgia, it's urgency," Di Maio confided in a press preview. "I want the audience to smell the bell tower and the courtyard chatter, as if it were yesterday." Alongside him is a close-knit company that knows how to pace itself like a steady espresso: Alessandra Borrelli as the perpetually indomitable Donna Rosa, and Ciro Scherma as the sacristan Modestino, a volcano of naiveté and mischief.
Guided by the passionate eye of Gaetano Liguori, these performers sculpt characters that seem to have emerged from a Totò painting: authentic, exaggerated, irresistibly human.
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Flanked by the chatty Donna Rosa and the bungling Modestino, the priest invents clumsy gimmicks: papier-mâché miracles, sacristy squabbles, and subterfuges that reek of incense and sweat. Between neighborly jealousies, confessional "sins," and a bishop arriving to investigate a suspicious miracle, the comedy unfolds like a modern parable.
It's pure farce, yes—with punchlines that fly like slapstick and gags that garner applause—but beneath the surface lies a profound moral: laughter as a mirror of human flaws, mockery as a path to redemption. Don Sandro, swept away by his own whirlwind of pious lies, verges on madness in the name of the common good, reminding us that, deep down, we are all hairdressers of illusions.
And here lies the genius of the Di Maios: transforming the Neapolitan dialect into a sharp weapon, capable of tearing away the veil on human fragility. In a 2025 marked by spiritual crises and social media promising digital miracles, this story has a resounding relevance. It speaks of communities crumbling, priests stumbling, and faithful laughing to keep from crying—a distant yet very close echo of our uncertain times.
The finale, with its embrace of compassion and hope, leaves the audience with a bitter smile: not just entertainment, but an invitation to reflect on the secular nature of faith and on love as an act of resistance. The Totò Theater, a bastion of Neapolitan tradition, confirms its role as a watchful guardian: not a dusty museum, but a living laboratory where myths walk briskly.
Tickets are already on sale, and the performances from November 7th to 16th promise to be sold out. Because, as the Di Maio school teaches, comedy is never just laughter: it's a secular ritual, a bridge between yesterday and tomorrow, reminding us how beautiful—and crazy—it is to be human. Reserve your front-row seat: madness is about to erupt.







Comments (1)
The article talks about a show that seems very interesting for those who love Neapolitan comedy. It's nice to see how the Di Maios continue to keep traditions alive, even amidst so many problems in modern society. I hope to be able to go.