Wait Until Dark: Little Theatre of Savannah

Wait Until Dark, The Little Theatre of Savannah's latest melodrama, manages to present a mixed bag for the spectator in its November 13-30, 2008 run at the Freight Station Theatre. The script, adapted for the screen in 1967 by Robert Carrington, is a veritable danse macabre of menace, though the cast has difficulty at times finding where the true menace lies.

The story, revolving around a recently blinded young woman, follows a trio of con men in their attempts to retrieve a heroin stuffed doll from the apartment this young woman shares with her photographer husband. The story twists a torturous path where Sam is slowly implicated in smuggling and marital infidelity, until the con is finally discovered and the thugs must resort to sheer force.

The cons Mike (Justin Kent) and Carlino (Phil Keeling) are, much in the way of confidence artists, quite likeable in their own way. Indeed, there is something of Laurel and Hardy or the Three Stooges in their relationship. Their main shortfalling is that they simply do not go far enough. Scenes that could truly relieve audience tension through a bit of laughten tend to fall short, as the schtick is neglected. While it could be raised to almost monumental heights, a la Noises Off, it fails to fully please. Instead, one has two likeable men caught, essentially, in a bad situation.

If Mr. Kent and Mr. Keeling do not paint their characters with broad strokes, the role of Harry Roat Jr. (Giles Gonnsen) stepped straight out of Hannah-Barbara's animation studios. Mr. Gonnsen has, unfortunately, reduced Mr. Roat from a frightening killer to a simple pop-culture meme. If Heath Ledger's Joker from The Dark Knight had stolen Peter Seller's sunglasses from Dr. Strangelove, one would then have an accurate picture of Mr. Gonnsen's performance. While possibly a great deal of fun, wearing monstrosity so clearly on one's sleeve ultimately robs the piece of menace. Had this role been played straighter (think Hannibal Lecter) then greater vistas of frightening depravity could have been opened in the playing of Roat. Instead, as one already knows where the beast lies, Roat is surpassed in creepiness by the lurking, nine-year-old Gloria (Kasey Siebert).

Acting honours for the evening go to Ms. Rachel Herrick in her performance of Susy Hendrix. Ms. Herrick manages a nearly convincing performance as the blind Mrs. Hendrix. Given the difficulty of playing disability, particularly one so keyed as sight, Ms. Herrick's performance manages to succeed in simply not distracting, though it manages much more. Darwin Hull, as Sam Hendrix, puts in a brief but amiable appearance that recalls a sentimentalized Lee Cobb from Death of a Salesman.

The cast, under the direction of Savannah theatrical veteran Christopher Soucy, primarily undershoot the mark, barring some exception. Given certain personnel issues throughout the rehearsal process, the cast has managed to put together an engaging show.

The set (designed by Jeroy Hannah) is an effective and spacious use of the Freight Station's sometimes limited square footage. However, the tone is truly set by the lighting (designed by director Christopher Soucy), oddly enough for a play about darkness. Mr. Soucy's choice of a brilliant, hard edged lamp for his house light helped to set the tone by bathing the waiting audience in harsh, white light.

Though Wait Until Dark is not without its shortcomings, Mr. Knott asks us to simply swallow a Byzantine con game extending to Montreal and tosses in Roat with almost no explanation as to his origins into the story, while the cast at times misses the opportunity to truly terrify, The Little Theatre of Savannah manages to put together an engaging evening of theatre.

Though the drawbacks and limitations of community theatre are a common, recurring theme here in The Savannah Dramaturgy, there is still an expectation of goodwill and excellence. Perhaps the most disturbing moment of the evening comes when this author is apologized to by multiple departing cast members. Such behavior is not only ungracious, but it also indicates to an audience member that their appreciation is unplaced and that absolution is desired. Given Savannah theatre's already limited resources, we cannot afford to lose goodwill, quite simply.