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review No blood is spilled
in this anemic adaptation of Bram Stoker's lush gothic. Whether to
protect the delicate sensibilities of the bluehairs and elementary
students attending or just a chickening-out to avoid expensive effects
and attendant dry-cleaning bills, the lack of The exquisite sets and lighting by Mark Andrew are superb enough to create a false impression the rest of the production will be as good. Andrew's black, white and gray palette gives the evening a feel of an old movie, but in the hands of director James Watt and cast, that movie is "Night of the Living Dead" because nearly everyone acts like a zombie. Watt stages well, but hasn't a clue what to do with his cast, barely pulling a believable line reading from any of them. The only character with life is Michael Keeney's Renfield, but he's so over the top that if there was a glass ceiling for Renfields, he'd hit it and smash through into the ionosphere. In lead roles: Tom Scabareti's Seward suffers from rigor mortis; James Ward's Van Helsing purses his lips, giving his medical-jargon lines a stern reading without any indication he knows what he's saying and Robert Murphy's ridiculously arch Dracula is as subtle as a stake through the chest. Speaking of stakes, ALL action is obscured by blackouts or happens off-stage so all you're going to get is a load of talk. Since Watt and the play's authors have forsaken horror, having fun with it wouldn't have hurt. Material this campy cries out for a more melodramatic reading. At least it would have supplied intentional laughs. |