Fringe: Burn

The ghosts that haunt Creighton James' disturbing new drama Burn, now running at the Fringe, aren't merely the ghosts of the dearly departed. Echoes of historical injustices are personified, their rage made flesh, and their stories brought to vivid, horrifying life.

Bordering on melodrama, though never falling into it, the rough-hewn script is a story-within-a-play, told by a mysterious man to a trio of children looking for a good scare. Instead of tales of monsters and demons, the man tells them an all-too-believable story about 1860 Appalachia, and the secrets, lies and violence that destroyed a family there.

It's a gruesome story, made all the more so by its agonizing believability. Horror, after all, doesn't need to be supernatural. Human nature can be frightening enough, as history has proved time and again, and to his credit, James doesn't shy away from the brutality and violence that made Appalachians into stereotypes. There are whippings, beatings, and-- spoiler alert-- a vicious rape, all presented very realistically, though never gratuitously. Those who prefer their history romanticized and sanitized would probably do well to stay away.

But as disturbing and powerful as James' script is, at an hour and forty-five minutes the play is far too long to support the story. The framing device tends to break the tension rather than emphasize it, and could easily be lost to no great detriment. The play also takes too long to reach the main crux of the story, but with some simple re-writes, could easily be tightened and refined into a taut, intense thriller.

The cast of eleven works very well together, letting us feel the isolation and rough lives of their characters with every word and gesture. CJ Gelfand steals every scene she's in as a cantankerous matriarch, Amy Hattemer speaks volumes with her eyes as an innocent mute transplant to the hills, and Liz Wisan is radiates strength as a woman trying to hold her place in a world run by men. Derek Wilson and Will Brunson are appropriately rough and gruff as men of the mountain, and Tory Andrus and Leon Addison Brown are heartbreaking as slaves who long for freedom. Adam Arian's simple and effective direction keeps the mood somber and the intensity up, and is helped by Greg Mitchell's excellent lighting design and Sanaz Ghajarrahimi's eerie sound design. Quinn K. (Pawlan) Stone's minimal set makes good use of the Lafayette Street Theatre, conjuring the locations rather than depicting them realistically.

As a historical drama, if not a ghost story, Burn shows great promise and potential. With very little rewriting, it could enjoy an extended life in regional theatres, or even off-Broadway. While it may not be a pretty story, it is a sobering and effective reminder of a past that isn't so distant as we'd like to believe.

Burn is currently playing at The Lafayette Street (45 Bleecker St at Lafayette) Theatre through August 26. Tickets are $15 available at TicketCentral.com or 212-279-4200