Dracula

I stumbled across this 2 cd set by accident while browsing the "spoken word" section at a rasputin in the east bay area (of california). it was new, and only $..., and I'm a fan of Orson Welle's movies, so I picked it up. At the time, I didn't realize that it was a 2 cd set (and I don't think rasputin did either, which explains the dirt-cheap price). Thus far I've listened to the War of the Worlds disc and, although I can tell that I must have heard it before (I remember distinctly the lonely voice repeating "isn't there anyone there?") I was transfixed by the recording. It's interesting, but not surprising, to find that Welles used some of the same methods in both cinema and radio: the most obvious is the tendency of character dialogue to overlap, rather than to cleanly transition from one character to the next.

I perceived a clear connection between the tone of "War of the Worlds" and such dark masterpieces as "Touch of Evil", "The Third Man", "Othello", and "MacBeth", among others. If you're a fan of Welles, I can't imagine that you'll find this cd set anything less than interesting. It's rather more likely that you'll enjoy it just as much as I did.

But now for the "but...." in the title: War of the Worlds (and, I assume, Dracula as well) are one track each. This is a foolish oversight on the part of those that put the set together. However, despite the irritation, the set is still well worth the money.

As for the sound: not bad at all: yes, there's the hiss and pop, but almost all of the dialogue is audible. A very few words are lost, but, based on what I heard I wonder if those losses are due to age/recording quality or rather the inevitable mistakes made during a 60 minute live performance.

Here you have the very first broadcast of the 1938 The Mercury Theatre on the Air radio show alongside its much more famous 14th installment. I daresay you've heard of the latter (The War of the Worlds), but the original broadcast is equally deserving of attention (even though it did not cause people to flee their homes in a panic). The show debuted on July 11, 1938, with Orson Welles' own dramatization of Dracula. Welles supplies the voice for both Dr. Seward, the de facto narrator, and Count Dracula himself, and the script remains noticeably faithful to Stoker's original novel. Obviously, only so many events of that incredible tale can be crammed into a one-hour presentation, and many characters and incidents are left out entirely, but the production still manages to impress with its creepy overtones and menacing delivery. Dr. Seward tells the tale based on his personal notes and the entries in Jonathan Harker's journal, but the listener is treated to direct recreations of the most important scenes. Welles' is unequalled in terms of his oratorical skills, and he is joined by a talented cast of performers, including Agnes Moorehead. Sounds and special effects do tend to be a bit of a bother in this original broadcast, however, as the first segment is filled with far too many dramatic organ notes, while the sound effects as a whole sometimes get in the way of the dialogue. Dracula fans will delight in the overall presentation, however. Welles' Dracula voice may leave a little something to be desired, but the dramatic presence he brings to Stoker's unparalleled novel is quite powerful.

The War of the Worlds is, of course, the most famous radio program of all time; I daresay many members of future generations would have no idea that their ancestors actually sat around a radio once upon a time listening to dramatic presentations were it not for the unique acclaim this show continues to enjoy today. The broadcast was a seminal event in broadcasting history - not for its content, which was indeed very good - but for the dramatic reaction by untold listeners who were convinced that Earth was under attack from invaders from Mars. Callers deluged local newspapers and radio stations, men volunteered to step up and fight the terrible enemy, families rushed out of their homes to flee from the invaders. Some folks in the New Jersey area actually claimed they could see the fires of the destruction, one man insisted he heard the President order an evacuation over the air, prominent Princeton scientists actually went out in search of the meteor that reportedly fell nearby, and some individuals supposedly committed suicide. In the aftermath of the panic, there were calls for tougher broadcasting standards and a formal investigation into the broadcast. The FCC called in the big three radio network presidents to redefine the usage of the word "flash" over the radio, and the whole situation led the government to seek closer cooperation among radio networks in the months leading up to America's entry into World War II. It sounds silly today, and I'm sure many of the panic details have grown in stature over decades of exaggeration, but still, you can't help but be amazed at the thoroughly unpredicted reaction of so many to an mere dramatization of a pretty familiar story (indeed, Orson Welles said he feared such an outlandish story for the program might actually bore people). After all, it's not as if the show weren't advertised on radio and print, and there were no less than three announcements about the fictional nature of the story made during the broadcast itself. On the other hand, 1938 was a tense time in a world already witnessing the outbreak of a terrible war in Europe, and the format of the presentation did simulate a news broadcast - complete with program interruptions.

But what of the show itself? The broadcast took place on October 30, 1938, the 14th broadcast of The Mercury Theatre on the Air series led by director and star Orson Welles. It consisted of Welles' own adaptation of H.G. Wells' classic science fiction novel The War of the Worlds. The decision was made to present the story in the form of breaking news items on the air, and so it was that listeners were whisked away from live music at some New York ballroom for quick news flashes on strange eruptions on the Martian surface, the crash of a large meteorite some eleven miles outside of Princeton, mobile reports from the site, and the scientific speculations of a learned Princeton professor. The mobile reporter did a fantastic job of realistically dramatizing the extraordinary happenings taking place at the Grover's Mill farm site after the "meteorite" opened up and began firing its death ray at the milling crowds around it - until he was cut off, for rather obvious reasons, as the crisis quickly accelerated. At that point, military bulletins formed the presentation's material until such time that the learned professor, in the final twenty minutes or so, described the aftermath of the terrible invasion.

It's a real treat to be able to go back and listen to this most impressive and infamous of radio broadcasts and to witness the extraordinary power of Orson Welles' presentation. As impressive and entertaining as the show itself is, it's even more of a learning experience. The modern-day listener gains insight on the early days of mass communications, finds inspiration in the power of dramatic presentation, gets a good feel for the popular culture of that era, finds a ready-made source of information on mass psychology, and - perhaps most importantly - enjoys a unique look at the history and societal framework of that jumpy era, a time when so many Americans were still struggling to survive economically while trepidation grew daily over the dark events taking place across the Atlantic Ocean.

I don't know if the greatness of Orson Welles will ever be fully understood. Me, I already considered him THE cinema (and even a charismatic and funny magician, by the way). But I was too yung to have heard his radio programs. Now, with these wonderful discs, I can. I can be amazed all over again by this great artist. Great in everything he did. What can I say? It was like discover that Albert Einstein was a very fine tip-tap dancer, too.