But not mad as in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Mad as in monkeys. A burlesque troupe. And the occasional flying little person...
Welcome to Hollywood’s grand new theater of the insane: Beacher’s Madhouse, open for public previews starting this Wednesday.
It all starts under a staircase in the depths of the Roosevelt, where you’ll find a sexy librarian and some bookshelves. Harmless enough.
If you’ve reserved a table in advance, she’ll stamp your newly issued library card and allow you past those bookshelves, which are actually doors, and into an ornate red-curtained theater. All the tables face the stage, but only one of them is a giant birdcage.
As your night unfolds, the stage will host all manner of revolving acts. Think: contortionists, impersonators and beautiful women who’ve misplaced much of their wardrobe.
Oh, and when you get thirsty, head to the Midget Bar. That’s what they call it, right there in red neon letters. It’s very small. And staffed by little people who make little martinis from little airplane-size bottles. (So you’ll want to take baby sips.)
But if you’re comfortable where you’re at, your bartender will strap into a track on the ceiling and fly across the theater to you, booze in hand.
Whatever you do, don’t order a double.