Tales of the Night

Critiqued by Holly Bartges

Paranoid, quick to rise to hysterical heights, chained to her bed by either a defined physical malady or a psychological need for dependency, the phone becomes her most immediate nightmare.

Seth Maisel in Tales of the Night.

With hat pulled down over his eyes, the lower half of his face streaked white, a raincoat hanging loosely, this weird being either intends to drive a motorist mad or shake him into reality.

Her stoic expression and countenance stands in direct opposition to the earth shaking interruption on radio’s Columbia Broadcasting System. She’s not supposed to be funny, but she’s endearingly humorous and worth all of the little green things scaring the pants off of New Jersey and New York

What is going on?

The Denver Victorian Playhouse turned its stage over to radio’s Columbia Broadcasting System for Tales of the Night featuring Sorry Wrong Number, The Hitchhiker and H. G. Wells’ War of the Worlds that turned part of the country on its head in 1938 when broadcast as a newscast that Martians invaded New Jersey and devoured New York.

Lucille Fletcher wrote Sorry Wrong Number in 1948, and The Hitch Hiker. The role in the Hitch Hiker was written for Orson Wells whose first performance occurred in 1941 for the Mercury Theatre on the Air.

Jan Cleveland takes the neurotic invalid Mrs. Stevenson for an obnoxious, fitful, hysterical (not funny hysterical, rather frightful hysterical) ride through telephone land. It’s her maid’s night off, and her husband hasn’t returned home from work. She’s not use to being alone. There’s no one to command attention from, and her husband’s line has been forever busy. Living in a two story brownstone in lower Manhattan, there are some she can demand attention from: the telephone operators played by Jacqueline Garcia, Peggy Miller, Chelsea Rossetto, and Fiona Turnbull. She gets their attention, but not the kind clamored for. With a listening ear and emotional distance, they do their job, no more no less, one chews gum while filing her nails. They’re grandly realistic.

Through crossed wires, Mrs. Stevenson overhears two men planning a murder in a two-story brownstone in lower Manhattan. Because she has no hard facts, she finds it difficult to get anyone’s attention. Cleveland is simply spectacular in the role of Mrs. Stevenson who obviously deserves to be put out of her misery to squelch the misery of everyone else.

In the late 1930’s, Ronald Adams decides to take an automobile trip from New York to California. Seth Maisel engulfs this confident free spirit on a trip he will never forget, and undoubtedly will live over and over again. Ronald’s imagination, having been well fed and attended to, fields his mother’s (Turnbull) concern with a gentle laugh and bright smile. On the Brooklyn Bridge he encounters a bizarre “raincoated” figure with hat pulled down over his eyes. OK, so this man is strange, his face a pasty white. Stranger yet, he sees him again, and again, and again Curiosity turns to anxiety, turning to fear, turning to madness. Behind the turned down hat stands Mark Moran. Maisel plays a freaked out mad man, and Moran offers intensive stances while frequently calling Hello-o-o-o to Ronald. Ronald doesn’t make it to California. Truth unfolds through an earth shaken disastrous phone call to his mother.

Through a surprise attack on earth by Martians, Peggy Miller, a radio announcer, maintains a stoic, self-controlled, non-toxic expression in facial features and voice. In juxtaposition to her words, she’s a riot and great fun to watch.

Directed by Edwin Fronheiser, the Vic’s stage sports a sign close to the rafters On The Air. It’s radio time. To keep things interesting Sorry Wrong Number features Mrs. Stevenson’s bedroom. In The Hitchhiker, Maisel works from a microphone, while other cast members sit on folding chairs waiting for their turn at the mic. Moran’s startling hitchhiker slides onto the stage every time Ronald sees him. The expressions and reactions of the cast waiting their turn are as much fun to watch as are the actors at the mic. Some sound effects come from a table upper stage right with various cast members taking turns.

War of the Worlds turns complete radio, except the actors waiting their turn aiding and abetting the horror through body language and exaggerated expressions.

Touted once-upon-a-time scary, the three shows aren’t nearly as scary as the thought of the Vic’s ghosts combing mischief through the sound and lighting system with Wade P. Wood operating the controls. It happened once during the run, and those who operate these devices understand how terrifying it can be to have a light all of a sudden refuse to turn on, or a light deciding not to go off. After all it is Halloween time, and ghosts insist on delving into their own trick or treat.

The ten talented actors play a variety of roles from announcers, to a nurse, to police officers, to a man shrouded in darkness with a knife, to a farmer, to military personnel. As they switch hats, they easily switch gears from eloquent to uncouth. These myriads of people also include Jon Farnlof, John Green, and CJ Truesdale.

Maisel reaches for the stars and lays a green thing with weird tentacles at the feet of his audience in War of The Worlds.

The three choices for Tales Of The Night might not be the best choice for The Vic’s introduction to the Holiday Season through the celebration of Halloween. However, this is a case where the cast takes the spotlight away from the production. Mrs. Stevenson is far more annoying than scary in Sorry Wrong Number, and halfway through you hope someone jumps through the window ending her whining-complaining forever. Cleveland elevates the character to one worth watching. Maisel does an equal job with Ronald in The Hitch Hiker, elevating the character to one you want to pay attention to, not because of the words, but what he does with this character. Moran’s interpretation of the unearthly being with hat drawn down and sharp moves commands attention. You wish he would appear more often than he does. You just don’t want to see him on your drive home.

The War of the Worlds lost its impact years ago, and Maisel’s long redundant speech at the end could easily be cut in half or even dropped altogether, but again what he does with the material remains captivating. Maisel knows how to take nothing and create something extremely viable. He has in him a character waiting to happen.

The Vic’s Tales of the Night is a clear case where the cast soars above the material. When that happens you know you have before you some highly talented actors who deserve a tremendous amount of credit and appreciation.

Fronheiser designed the set with an ingenious touch. Sorry Wrong Number provides the set of an elegant bedroom. Fussbudget Mrs. Stevenson would have it no other way.

The stage cleared for The Hitch Hiker with Maisel at the microphone. Supporting cast members wait silently but expressively on folding chairs, while Moran slips in and out of view with his other worldly manifestation. War of The Worlds transforms into the radio mode except the audience has the advantage of viewing the delicious expressions and reactions of the characters ready to bounce into action.

Halloween has come and gone, but one more weekend remains for The Vic’s energetic production Tales of the Night, and the cast, pure and simple, is worth every dime for the ticket.

Tales of the Night Featuring: Sorry Wrong Number, The Hitch Hiker
By Lucille Fletcher
H. G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds: Radio Broadcast
Directed by Edwin Fronheiser