The Burbage Theatre Company has conjured a work of sinister magic which begs the question, will you stay once the hour has struck? There’s a mesmerizing fire-crackle sound to the stage as though the air itself is charged with anticipation— and perhaps something more arcane. The lights dip, the hush deepens, and you remember you’re about to watch a play. Witching Hour Social Club, by James Lucey and directed by Allison Crews, invites us into a clandestine space where the communal and the occult quietly merge. A sort of fellowship of characters, each with secrets, each drawn to the same midnight hour in hopes of transformation— or escape.
According to Burbage, this play is largely inspired by classic horror anthologies like Creepshow, Tales from the Crypt, Buffy, and of course, Are You Afraid of the Dark? It’s been developed as a sort of experiment to test the potential and possibilities of the horror genre in live theatre. The format allows for the stories to be switched out each year for a new experience. This monster mash of gory tales, told with axes and blood spurts, starts with a campy reunion as two estranged friends meet in the woods at night to revive their high school storytelling club. As they wait in hopeful anticipation of more friends, they pass the time listening to cassette tapes of old club stories. But there’s more on the tapes than base spooky stories. A chilling turn occurs when the tales begin to manifest in their realm, blurring the line between childhood memories and menacing reality.
“Each story is a little bit different by theme,” says Crews. “There’s a lot of comedy in it, and it is fun-scary, but there are some genuinely scary moments, you know with the sound, and the music and things like that. We have most of the same cast from last year, but they’re all switched in different roles, so it’s also fun to see how that changes the story, depending on who’s playing that character, and just all the different possibilities. So that’s been really fun, and then figuring out all the tech stuff has been crazy.” She adds, “James Lucey is a genius writer, and the way that he switches back between sort of silly/playful, and then like, realism— of the people that are by the campfire. It’s really cool.”
According to Stage Manager Devra Levy, “Each story is kind of referencing a different genre of horror, a different time period and, like Allison said, there are some new stories. So if you saw it last year, you’re in for something a little bit different, so definitely come back!”
“There will be blood— but it’s not real!” Levy adds. “We have to cook up a batch of about 12 to 15 cups for every performance. It’s mostly water and food dye. There’s a little bit of corn starch to thicken it. Traditionally, theaters will use corn syrup, but that’s very sticky, so we went with something else for this one, and then we put a little bit of chocolate powder in there, and some soap so it washes out of the costume.”
Production Design by Trevor Elliott has the set dressed in graveyard greys and flickering lanterns. Smoke drifts into the audience, immersing us in the club rather than watching from afar. It’s eerily unsettling in the best way, especially when you add the menacing sound design by Paul Medeiros. Kudos to Brittany Costello (ATD/props) for the fun and creepily realistic props. Specialty props designer Grey Rung has created some brilliant pieces, greatly adding to the intrigue of this production. Especially cool is the vampire skull complete with spinal cord tissue. It’s so horrific, you can’t help but laugh!
The ensemble interplay is seamless. There’s a harmonious cadence to the entrance and exit of members, the passing of rituals, the exhalation of ghosts. With lights low, the audience leans forward, pondering what will happen next. Pacing lags a tad in the second act when futuristic procedures hang expectantly without gratification, but the momentum returns as something shifts at midnight.
Don’t go to Witching Hour Social Club expecting a simple witches and demons fantasy. What you’ll find instead is a mirror reflecting our terror of exposure, as Witching Hour Social Club underlines the human desire to belong— and the price we pay when we do. Belonging is a primal need. You belong here— blindsided into laughter at the gruesomely absurd, just in time for Halloween thrills and chills! Burbage features Witching Hour Social Club through November 2. For more information, visit burbagetheatre.org.