Now on stage at the Festival Theatre, Niagara on the Lake”This underwhelming adaptation doesn’t capture the fear and tension of the original, although the script isn’t entirely to blame. Director Sanjay Talwar seems to lose sight of the narrative, leaving viewers waiting for something—anything-to happen. Although boasting some decent performances, it ultimately falls short in terms of suspense, lacks thrills, and lacks creative vision.”
Wait Until Dark opened on Broadway in 1966 and quickly earned a reputation for its tight, suspenseful storytelling. A year later, the film adaptation — with Audrey Hepburn and Alan Arkin — took things to the next level. Hepburn scored an Oscar nomination for her role as a blind woman fighting off intruders in her apartment, and the movie’s famously nerve-wracking climax became an iconic moment. Some theatres even dimmed all their lights to complete darkness, making the audience feel just as vulnerable as the character on stage. This brilliant, terrifying touch helped cement its status as a classic thriller.
Regrettably, the current Shaw Festival production, adapted by Jeffrey Hatcher, falls short of capturing the same level of suspense or emotional intensity. While the source material demands a careful balance of plausibility and escalating tension, this adaptation struggles to consistently deliver either. Some unconvincing performances, a lack of meaningful connection to the characters, and cumbersome staging contribute to a production that plods along, failing to evoke the immersive, edge-of-your-seat, white-knuckle thriller that defined a genre.
It’s 1944 – Susan (Sochi Fried) and her husband Sam (JJ Gerber) live in a basement apartment on Bank Street in Greenwich Village, New York. Susan recently lost her sight in a car accident and is still learning to be blind. Sam is a photographer with wartime PTSD, which landed him in the psychiatric ward. He had innocently brought a doll into their house after a woman he sat next to on a train put it in his satchel for safekeeping. The woman later came to their apartment to pick it up, only to be told that it had gone missing. Sam and Susan have no idea that the doll is filled with something of extreme value; that the woman who came to pick up the doll has been murdered; and that con artists, including a sociopathic killer named Harry Roat Jr. (an ineffectual Bruce Horak), are planning to do whatever’s necessary to get the doll from them. And all of that happens before the play begins. Disguising themselves as various seemingly harmless characters, the men infiltrate Susan’s apartment, continually searching for the doll, which is literally right in front of her.
One of the most significant problems with this production is Lorenzo Savoini’s set design. The play typically takes place in a small, cramped apartment, and that confined space is crucial in building tension, especially since Susan is blind. But here, the set stretches across the entire Festival stage. Sure, it looks great with its whitewashed red brick and sunken, below-street-level vibe, but it loses that crucial sense of claustrophobia. Instead of feeling trapped and uneasy, everything feels a bit too open and safe. Director Talwar writes in his notes, “We’ve worked to create a space where the audience feels what Susan feels – uncertainty, confusion, danger.” However, that danger never really materializes. It’s also a strange choice to stick Sam’s photos and photography equipment — which the script makes a big deal about — way off in a far corner, where it barely registers. A lot of the design feels like style over substance.
But perhaps the most egregious problem is the interpretation of the characters. The crucial issue is with the emotional pacing and dramatic tension.
Sochi Fried nails the physicality of Susan, a blind woman caught in a deadly game of deception, and there’s no question she’s done her homework when it comes to portraying blindness with realism. While her performance is grounded, what’s missing is the emotional edge that would make the final act truly tense. We’re supposed to be holding our breath, wondering if Susan can survive by wit alone. Instead, Fried comes off a little too confident, too in control right from the start, which takes the air out of what should be a nerve-wracking climax.
Then there’s Harry Roat Jr., the sadistic villain of the piece — a role that practically begs for an actor to go big and terrifying. Think Norman Bates meets Hannibal Lecter with a dash of The Joker. He’s supposed to be a creepy, intimidating and manipulative killer who should have the audience squirming in their seats. Sadly, Bruce Horak’s take on Roat just doesn’t cut it. Under Talwar’s direction, he never feels all that threatening. Instead of a chilling psychopath, he comes off more like a two-bit thief — all talk, no menace, and hardly the stuff of nightmares. We need to fear him as much as Susan does. Without that sense of real danger, the whole cat-and-mouse setup loses its bite, and the final showdown ends up feeling rushed and weirdly low stakes.
JJ Gerber does what he can with the small role of Sam, Susan’s PTSD-scarred husband — it’s not a part that gives him much to work with. Martin Happer is fine as Sergeant Carlino, the gruff cop type, though he doesn’t leave a big impression.
Kristopher Bowman stands out as Mike, an old friend of Sam’s who has just returned from the war. He’s warm, likable, and maybe just a little too smooth — is he really as genuine as he seems? Bowman keeps that ambiguity alive, which works nicely.
And as Gloria, the troubled teen upstairs, Eponine Lee brings a ton of energy and physicality to the role. She’s compelling to watch, though casting an actual teenager might have made Gloria’s emotional beats hit even harder.
Louise Guinand’s lighting design effectively sets the tone, casting moody shadows that suit the piece and lend the set a nice film noir vibe. The overall dimness helps build atmosphere, but it sometimes works against the action — key areas, such as the kitchen, the upstage window, and the bedroom hallway, are too underlit to see what’s happening clearly. There are some nice visual contrasts between the set and the costumes, a subtle touch that adds texture, even if it’s not particularly daring. That said, the final moments cried out for more dramatic lighting — sharp silhouettes and bolder contrasts — and it’s a shame that opportunity was missed.
Costumes by Ming Wong are accurate to the 1940s era. Susan wears simple, fitted outfits with boxy shoulders, slim belts, and high-waisted, wide-legged pants, paired with tucked-in blouses and sweaters — a clean, understated look that suits her character. Mike’s army uniform looks sharp and authentic, while Carlino’s ensemble — fedora and overcoat — is simple, casual, and tough. It’s Roat’s outfit that doesn’t do him any favours — the long leather coat, newsboy cap, open collar, and silky scarf make him look less like a sadistic killer and more like a French painter on holiday. It’s hard to feel threatened by someone who looks like he’s about to sketch the Eiffel Tower, and the effect seriously undercuts the menace the role demands.
John Gzowski’s original music and sound design evoke a film noir aesthetic, giving the show a cool, cinematic edge. It’s subtle, but it adds to the slow-building unease as the story unfolds. That said, a few key sound effects — like the humming fridge and the ringing phone — are oddly too quiet. Since both are crucial cues for Susan, they need to be louder. It’s a minor detail, but it has a significant impact on the tension and plays an essential role in the plot.
Despite its strengths — a thoughtful reinterpretation, detailed design, and solid work from parts of the cast — this adaptation falls short of the tension and fear that made Wait Until Dark a classic. All the ingredients for a gripping thriller are there, but the production struggles to tap into the psychological complexity and atmospheric suspense the genre demands. Without a truly threatening villain or a protagonist we’re genuinely afraid for, the story never quite lands emotionally.
In a thriller like this, suspense is everything. Unfortunately, this Wait Until Dark leaves you more in the dark than on the edge of your seat.
Running time: approx. 2 hours and 20 minutes with one intermission.
Production runs until October 5 at the Festival Theatre,
10 Queen’s Parade, Niagara-on-the-Lake
For tickets, call the Box Office at 1-800-511-7429 or visit shawfest.com
The Shaw Festival Presents
“Wait Until Dark”
Directed by Sanjay Talwar
Set designed by Lorenzo Savoini
Costumes designed by Ming Wong
Lighting designed by Louise Guinand
Original music and sound designed by John Gzowski
Performers: Sochi Fried, Kristopher Bowman, JJ Gerber, Martin Happer, Bruce Horak, Eponine Lee
