"Wait Until Dark" Review

MORT MAIMON
Daily News theater reviewer

Freelance

Valley Performing Arts' production of Frederick Knott's "Wait Until Dark" at the Machetanz Theater in Wasilla kicks off the group's 30th season, and a booming, out-of-the-end-zone kick it is. A significant part of VPA's mission, "to enhance the cultural and intellectual spirit of the community," is realized in its interpretation of this frequently performed melodrama. A cold opening night with pockets of ice fog did nothing to deter a large and enthusiastic audience which, to my pleasure, included a liberal representation of young people. Their presence was gratifying because they're the advance guard of a new generation of theatergoers. The process of creating this cohort can't start too early.

Knott's play centers on the hunt for a doll by gang members. Take my word, they have no intention of playing house with said doll, which happens to be in the possession of a blind woman. The searchers will stop at nothing, including murder, to get it.

The play itself, while a bit talky and creaky in its joints, grabs audience attention at its outset and retains it, largely through superior acting. Missteps are fairly minor -- more annoying than disruptive -- and are the responsibility of the playwright rather than this production.

For example, some of the play's business hinges on the unusually keen auditory acuity of Susy Hendrix, the blind protagonist. Manifestations of this sense, though, are sporadic and inconsistent. At one point, Susy, who could identify a leaf dropping two blocks away as aspen, fails to detect that three people have entered her apartment, not just the one that she acknowledges.

The conclusion of the play seems disconcertingly rushed and unsatisfactory. It belongs to the Porky Pig style of ending: That's all, folks.

The play's performances compensate for such relatively minor lapses. As Mike Talman, one of the thugs, Larry Bottjen manages to suggest an infrequently exercised conscience lurking restlessly within a bad guy. Interestingly, Bottjen acted in VPA's first production in 1976. His performance in this one confirms the benefit of three decades of practice.

Bill Siedler, as Carlino, another evildoer, blends voice, facial expression and gesture into an effective depiction of a semi-likeable crook. He knows his way around the stage, handling his role with conviction and assurance.

Ted Carney, as Harry Roat Jr., chief villain, wisely underplays his role, extracting added menace. He is persuasive as a thoroughly degenerate killer. On opening night, however, his initial appearance was slightly marred by enunciation problems, a difficulty that should be easily remedied.

Kent Hermon, as Sam Hendrix, Susy's husband, does the most he can with a fairly thankless role. Sam is supportive and reassuring, as, of course, he should be. But Knott has created in him a stock character, subject to none of the ambiguities that enrich other characters. Hermon perseveres resolutely, creating from the writer's delineation its only viable construct, a one-dimensional "nice guy."

Even W. C. Fields, who hated child actors, would have warmed to Teresa Kennedy, who plays Gloria, a 9-year-old who helps Susy with chores and errands. As a conflicted little girl, she oscillates unpredictably between childhood and pre-adolescence. Well beyond her years in acting aplomb, she alternates between smackable and huggable.

I enjoyed Suzanne Hermon's performance as Susy. She radiates genuine pluck without being soppily heart rending. Alternately luminous and filled with self-doubt, she credibly suggests the frustrations, fears and dependence on others that constrict the lives of many blind people. My only question relates to Susy's abrupt display of courage, even foolhardiness, toward the end of the play. How, suddenly, does it erupt? Early on she manifests grittiness, but it's the good-soldier type, essentially without mettle. The appearance of unexpected qualities should be better motivated.

Set designer Dave Putnam has enhanced the production with his uncanny representation of a modest apartment in Queens, N.Y., circa 1965. I'm afraid kids in the audience may not have appreciated its artfulness, but I certainly did. It reminded me of the Philadelphia apartment my wife and I occupied as newlyweds. Good going, Dave. What did you say the rent was?

Director Jeff Babcock has breathed life and authenticity into what could have come off as a play well past its expiration date. Instead, he's harnessed the abilities of a talented cast, blending them into a coherent, and, for the most part, absorbing piece of stagecraft. His multiple theatrical experiences provide the directorial versatility that benefits both his cast and his audience.

The past is prologue. I anticipate with pleasure VPA's next three decades.

Mort Maimon is an Anchorage writer.