Dead of Night

Adapted from a selection of rather uninteresting short stories by horrormeister Stephen King, this sextet of one-acts lacks something for everyone. Dramaturgically, the writing is pedantic, relying universally on first-person narration delivered, for the most part, with all the suspense of a slate of children's storybooks. Listless direction gives audience members, even those wholly unfamiliar with the source material, enough time to easily guess the twist of each tale long before the reveals occur. Production values, if one can apply the term, are in a word horrid. Lighting flashes on and off, seemingly at will. Musical interludes are chosen for who knows what reasons. Presumably in an effort—ultimately futile—to minimize the distractingly creaky platforms that compose Sean Vasquez's nearly nonexistent scenic design, a stage crew mercilessly prolongs the proceedings by performing set changes in what can best be described as slow motion.

And we haven't even gotten to the acting. A cast of 14 makes up this incredibly inconsistent ensemble. With but a few rare exceptions, actors seemed utterly unprepared for the opening night performance. Marring the evening were goofed entrances, poorly executed stage combat, and at least two clear examples of actors going up on dialogue and helplessly stammering their way to the finish line. Though the lot clearly deserves anonymity, a few have sculpted much better than average performances from this otherwise primordial ooze.

In "Harvey's Dream," Kathy Bell Denton and Jonathan Harrison do a fine job portraying an older couple, parents of adult children, faced with the growing terror that the husband's nightmare is invading reality. Their work together is ably measured, and director Angela Relucio has the good sense to curtail any tendency to melodrama. Easily the standout performance of the production is that of Jared Martzell in the show closer, "The Ten O'Clock People." Playing a chain smoker who discovers that his partial reduction in nicotine allows him to see aliens disguised as fellow humans, Martzell keys in on King's dark humor. Worthy of far better material, this trio's refreshingly engaging efforts save a forgettable night of theater from being pronounced dead on arrival.

Presented by the Visceral Company at the Lankershim Arts Center, 5108 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood. Sept. 30-Nov. 6. Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m. www.thevisceralcompany.com.