Frederick Knott was what might be called a high-percentage playwright. Of the three plays he wrote, two cracked both the Broadway and film pantheon as popular thrillers. "Dial M for Murder" was a hit in 1952, and Gremlin Theatre has opened Knott's 1966 piece, "Wait Until Dark," at the Loading Dock in St. Paul. The show hasn't hit on all cylinders yet, but generally fine acting and Knott's story portend better things.

Knott plotted brilliantly. The pitfall in staging his work is that the intricate schematic overwhelms character. In "Dark," he offers actors a helping hand by creating two roles freighted with intrigue beyond the garden variety. They are Harry Roat, a sinister mastermind, and Suzy Hendrick, the blind victim.

Roat has become aware that Suzy's husband unwittingly served as a drug mule on a recent flight. He collars two other hoods into an elaborate ruse to send her husband out to Jersey and then con Suzy into forking over a heroin-laden doll.

Stacia Rice was suffering from an upper-respiratory ailment the evening I watched the show, but it appeared to enhance the reed-thin waif's performance -- if her day life wouldn't suffer too much, she should sit in a snowbank and smoke cigarettes for the rest of the run. With her fragile voice, Rice offers frail resistance against Roat and his henchmen without appearing pathetic -- a tricky balance. Her brittle disposition masks a resourcefulness drawn out in the terror of those final, dark moments.

As Roat, Craig Johnson also achieves a nice duality: a catlike jumpiness meshed with a brooding sense of confidence. This slit-eyed fiend is kooky enough to tickle our funny bone and creepy enough to make us wonder who abused him as a child.

Ryan Parker Knox and Carl Schoenborn are Roat's chumps and each carries himself well -- rough around the edges yet casual in a blunt, matter-of-fact way.

One thing to watch as this production moves along is whether these good acting performances can gel into something greater than the parts. Director Sarah Gioia has not created an airtight container. Particularly in transition, tension leaks from the seams. Too, the level of frisson and chemistry between the actors needs attention.

Two nice technical elements contribute to the experience. Mike Hallenbeck creates a sound design using 1960s bebop -- very hip -- and Amanda Brown's set envisions a properly drab working-class basement apartment.

Mission
Employment
Archives

Staff
Contact Information
Mailing List ^JOIN!
Links