A tiny but precious jewel resides nearly undetected deep in the interior of Lehighton, PA--- The Pale Moon Players and their humbly magical performance platform in the auditorium of Grace Lutheran Church.
Enriching experience in the kingdom of regional theater often demands great leaps of faith and imagination of its audiences, and 'Arsenic and Old Lace', their current production, running Fridays and Saturdays through April 19, did not relieve us of that obligation.
Stiff-backed and harder-bottomed folding chairs stood in for the cushioned, cup-holding recliners of our finer performance venues.
The lighting was simply four painters' lamps divided equally between two stands placed symmetrically on either side of the front row of seats, accented by six ceiling fixtures that loomed high above the playing area.
A short plywood runway extending into the house from down-center stage provided actors with a little opportunity to stretch their legs and create separation from each other during critical moments.
Passing vehicles' headlight beams, leaking in through gaps in the stained glass windows, danced across the walls at inopportune moments.
Zimmerman Diary iced tea and lemonade was as close to beer, wine, and spirits as you were going to find at their refreshment table.
The play itself, this revered comedy of two spinsters who satisfy deeply repressed sexual urges by dispatching lonely old men with generous servings of poison-laced elderberry wine, is so entrenched in our collective memories of the Frank Capra/Cary Grant movie classic, a televised remake, and countless high school and community theater productions, that about the only possible chance it had to engage us was to rekindle our memories of having been entertained by it at another time in another place in our lives.
And the actors had their hands full with all of this, make no mistake about that. At least a couple minutes brushed past until our ears adjusted to the usual pops and distortions of wireless microphones hidden beneath casts' garments. The dialogue, though rhythmic and rich in irony, is deeply dated, its references obscure.
And yet...
Theirs was an honest and heartfelt performance of a timeless comedic masterpiece in a loving theatrical space .
Theirs was an evening of the suspension of disbelief among a safe and non-judgmental audience.
Theirs was an opportunity to witness the mysterious magic of live theatrical performance at its humblest, sparest, and most sincere level.
While evidence of the guiding hand of a benevolent director was by no means apparent, the actors for the most part managed to get to the right places at the right times. They interacted competently and with spirit. And much of the time, they completely and joyously enveloped us in the absurdity of the plot and their various interpretations of the text.
That's not always the case in theater, be it in Carbon County or Manhattan.
No matter where you happen to see a show, however, you will rarely see or hear anyone more entertaining and delightful than Dave Zimmerman, in the timeless role of 'Teddy Brewster', one of the many deluded denizens of the murderous Brooklyn household who host the events of the play.
From the first moments of the night, while holding a saucer and sipping tea, a Rough Rider hat upon his head, a distinctive Teddy Roosevelt monocle pinched in place by his right eye (I may have imagined this, so evocative was his performance), he owned the stage whenever he trod upon it, and even more so when he exited it, bugle blaring, bellowing 'Chaaaaaarrrrrrge!f' as he set off upon the stairs leading up to his second floor bedchamber---- or San Juan Hill, as his character chooses to think of it.
What does that say about sexual repression in this asylum'
Everyone had his or her moments. Douglas Rau played an aptly addled New York drama critic, Mortimer Brewster, the character taxed with maintaining a through-line in this whimsical plot--- nephew to his homicidal aunts (Abby and Martha, played with convincing derangement by Patricia Peters and Molly Phillips, respectively); fiance to a minister's daughter, Elaine Harper (a lovely Trish Marko), who lives just the other side of the cemetery that adjoins the Brewster mansion; brother to sadistic Jonathan (a vampirish Jack Phillips who flapped menacingly and amusingly around the stage in a floor length cape); and disingenuous mentor to a clueless beat cop (Kane Zerbe) who fancies himself a promising playwright.
Noah Smith valiantly attempted to make sense of a dipsomaniacal plastic surgeon named Dr. Einstein. Brent Harris (as an exasperated Lt. Rooney) kept the action steamrolling toward its preposterous but satisfying conclusion. And Bob Fatzinger (playing Mr. Gibbs) did a convincing turn as a potential victim of the Brewster sisters' designs.
The synopsis of this show is buried somewhere in that rundown of the central characters.
Listen, folks: this is really the only year-round theater company inhabited chiefly by grownups in that neck of the woods, a vast expanse of trees and valleys and rivers and streams about 40 minutes north of Allentown. It's a genuine treasure to its community, and a happy addition to the theater scene in our theater-rich greater Lehigh Valley region.
The admission price is astonishingly modest, $10 adults, $6 for seniors and students, and that iced tea and lemonade are offered free of charge.
Shows are at 730 PM.
Grace Lutheran Church is located at 115 South Fourth Street, Lehighton, PA. Street parking is available.
For information, call Pale Moon Players Box Office at 484-542-0854.