University of Virginia Library

STAGE

Once A Witch, Always A Witch

By Steve Wells
Cavalier Daily Staff Writer

A virile, male witch is in love
with a beautiful backwoods girl. He
wants to be human, so he goes to
the "conjure woman" and makes a
bargain. Then he woos, wins, and
weds his mortal sweetie.

That, in brief, is what transpires
in the first act of "Dark of the
Moon," the new offering at the
Albemarle Playhouse. As for the
second act, well, it's a case of acting
out a doomed love affair. You see,
the play is a romantic tragedy. It is
also — God help us — a hillbilly
comedy. The hybrid result is a
cornball soap opera, a marriage of
"Love Story" and "Hee Haw," with
a twist of supernatural melodrama
thrown in for the sake of being
different.

The play was written by Howard
Richardson and William Berney,
and I am told it has been widely
produced in community theatres
and the like, though I'm frank to
confess that I know nothing of its
production history. It is the sort of
play one would expect from a high
school student whose writing shows
promise, but lacks suspense, finesse,
continuity, and originality.

Toss—In—Songs

One of the major problems with
the play is that it is so goddamn
predictable. After the first scene, we
know precisely what course the
play is going to follow — and, sure
enough, we're right at every turn.
Only it takes longer to travel the
route than we had anticipated; the
premise is shallow and needs
fleshing out, and since the authors
are no Shakespeares, they
awkwardly loss in songs — rendered
here to the accompaniment of a
guitar — which serve no purpose
whatsoever except to stall the
dramatic flow and create stage
waits.

There are altogether too many
laughs in the production for us to
be able to keep the lovers' plights in
tragic perspective, How much
responsibility for this rests with the
authors and how much rests on the

shoulders of director — Robert
McLaughlin. I'm not sure. In any
event, Mr. McLaughlin emphasizes
the comedy when, given the often
ambivalent nature of the dialogue,
he could easily have deleted much
of the humor to the play's
advantage.

Mr. McLaughlin's physical
staging is sound, and owes a lot to
the wonderfully evocative set and
lighting designs of Boyd Ostroff.
The best directed scenes are those
in which the supernatural comes
into play and Mr. McLaughlin is
able to achieve a heightened
theatricality. The acting in these
scenes — especially the first — is
absolutely superb, with Mark S.
Hattan, Jr. as the "conjure man,"
Lee Medinets as "the conjure
woman," and Carolyn Hurlburt and
Joyce Stoner as the two witches
coming off perfectly in tune to the
desired mood.

Spark Of Fire

The honors in acting, however,
belong to James Carrington, whose
portrayal of the love struck "witch
boy" is the most memorable aspect
of the evening. With self-confident
determination in his voice and a
spark of uncontrollable fire in his
popping eyes, he evolves a beautiful
portrait of a man being consumed
by a forbidden love. Leaping
around the stage like a frog gone
mad, doing cartwheels and
handsprings and every other sort of
acrobatic activity, Mr. Carrington
actually seems to be something a
little more — or less — than human.

Ann Ault is overshadowed by
her leading man's virtuoso
performance, but she too excels, in
a more restrained, subtly depicted
characterization than that of Mr.
Carrington, which permits a perfect
balance between the two lovers.
The rest of the cast is uneven, with
some doing satisfactorily, others
not.

But aside from the unusually
polished acting of the two leads and
a few effective bits of staging, it
isn't much of an evening, and I'm
truly sorry, for this is the first time
the Albemarle Playhouse has
attempted something other than
conventional dinner theatre fare. I
feel obliged, however, to report
that some of those around me on
Saturday night appeared to be
enjoying themselves, probably the
same people who have helped make
"Love Story" such a financial
success.

As for me, I can't figure out
why the play was ever written,
much less produced. It's a contrived
tear-jerker told in a pedestrian
manner, and the only thing I can
see that it has to say is "once a
witch, always a witch." And with
relevant philosophy like that, who
needs Erich Segal?

—Ed.)