Fascination with the Titanic's first and last voyage hasn't waned over the last 95 years, and innumerable retellings add to its lore. Playwright Jeffrey Hatcher's contribution, the quirky footnote Scotland Road, receives its first area professional production at the Act II Playhouse.
A woman rescued from a North Atlantic ice floe in the early 1990s utters only one word: "Titanic." Dressed in authentic clothing, with no evidence of dental work and no identification, she's apparently a passenger from steerage. Could she be a survivor of the April 15, 1912, sinking? Rich recluse John (Peter Schmitz) sequesters her, and Doctor Halbrech (Judith Lightfoot Clarke) tries to protect the silent woman from John's interrogation.
He desperately wants her to be a survivor, not a fraud, though he recognizes the impossibility. What does he need from her?
The questions are more intriguing than the answers in producing artistic director Stephen Blumenthal's production. Eerie Emma O'Donnell successfully conveys the woman's mysteriousness, not speaking until halfway through the 90-minute play, but when details eventually pour out, they don't add up. The play's success really depends on John's unconvincing obsession, which reduces the story (without giving too much away) to a Twilight Zone-ish tale of "careful what you wish for" irony.
The play's more successful mystery involves fourth character Miss Kittle, an aged Titanic survivor conveniently found to test the woman. Cynthia Raff's sincere, understated performance can't mask the obvious twist in her story, however.
Mysteries like this depend much on atmosphere, disappointingly nonexistent here. Melissa Guyer's gray setting, enlivened briefly by projections of icebergs, offers little, particularly in James Leitner's uncharacteristically bland lighting. Matthew Aaron's messy sound design tosses in the great ship's engine sound when the script mentions it and plays a few generically haunting tunes under scenes, but leaves us in awkward silences through the play's many scene changes. A chatty woman behind me asked aloud, "Are we supposed to be clapping between these scenes?" No, but we end up voicing inane questions like that when forced to wait in dark silence for the next scene.
Scotland Road frustrates those expecting logical answers, and falls flat for those more accepting of the supernatural (which in today's mainstream entertainment, e.g. The Ghost Whisperer, tend to be portrayed rather prosaically). It's a tricky play and this production doesn't convince us it's worth the trouble.
Scotland Road
Through Feb. 18, Act II Playhouse, 56 E. Butler Pike, Ambler, 215-654-0200, www.act2.org
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