WAR OF THE WORLDS

2006 BareStage Theatre Broadcast

Wed, 25 Oct 2006 07:47:40 -0700

HUNDREDS JOIN IN CLASSIC RADIO PLAY
'War Of The Worlds' Set In Northern CA

More than 200 Tehama County residents will be featured in the recreation of a classic, as Red Bluff's BareStage Theatre presents, "War Of The Worlds," the timeless tale of alien invasion, at a reception and world premiere beginning at 6:30 p.m. on Monday, August 30.

The program itself will be aired on at least four area radio stations -- KBLF (Red Bluff-1490 AM), KQMS (Redding-1400 AM), KZFR (Chico-90.1 FM) and KRBH (Red Bluff-107.7 FM) -- starting at approx. 8 p.m. that evening.

The drama, which showcase the vocal performances of such recognized Red Bluff and Redding actors as Bryon Burruss, Andrew Holland, Alyssa Larson, Hap Neuman, Russell Piette, Ben Jones, Sharon Pressburg, Arthur Wylene and David Lee, among others, will also feature the voices of numerous BareStage audience members as the crowds, who are surprised, shocked, terrified and panicked throughout the 30-minute drama.

The audiences who attended the theatre's annual 'Six 10s @ Eight" New Plays Festival in August lent their voices to the recording en masse, providing background conversation (known in radio as "walla"), gasps, cries and terror-filled shrieks to add a believable depth to the drama.

"They sound great!" said Burruss, the theatre's Artistic Director and the author of this modern version. "They really add that extra punch of reality to the drama."

Some may remember that Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre On The Air broadcast a version of the same story at 8 p.m. on October 30, 1938, which resulted in a panic that made headlines throughout the world.

On the 68th anniversary (to the minute) of that broadcast, BareStage recreates and heightens the thrill by revamping it for a modern audience and setting it in the northstate.
The Martians land near Red Bluff and quickly move to destroy not just Tehama County, but Butte and Shasta counties, as one local landmark after another falls to the "death rays" of the "alien terrorists".

That may sound amusing to a modern audience, but -- like the original -- the theatre is playing up the drama, not the humor. Though, said Burruss, there are a few moments of ironic chuckles along the way.

This version is actually based on the first of two books that made up the original 1898 novel by H.G. Wells, not the later Orson Welles radio play. So, those familiar with the Mercury Theatre broadcast will be in for a few surprises.

"Orson Welles and company tried to shove the entire two-part novel into 30 minutes," said Burruss. "We're concentrating on only half that much material this time, so hopefully that will make it all even more realistic."

The theatre will hold a reception, starting at 6:30 p.m., on the night of the broadcast (Monday, Oct. 30). The evening will offer large amounts of food and drinks, displays and a slide show, and actors from the drama will be in attendance, as well as representatives from the radio stations airing the broadcast.

Shortly before 8 p.m. attendees will gather in the theatre and listen to the broadcast, as it is aired, on the theatre's surround sound stereo system.

Proceeds from the night will enable the theatre to expand its free audio offerings.

Tickets are $12 General Admission, include complimentary food and drinks and are available online 24 hours a day at www.barestage.com, at various Red Bluff outlets, or at the door, while they last, on the night of the event.

Reservations, which are always recommended, are available by calling 529-1241.

"War Of The Worlds" will air on Monday, October 30 on KBLF (Red Bluff-1490 AM), KQMS (Redding-1400 AM), KZFR (Chico-90.1 FM) and KRBH (Red Bluff-107.7 FM).
KBLF will begin airing the program at 8:03 p.m., KQMS at 8:05 p.m., due to top of the hour news requirements. The other stations will air it starting at 8 p.m.

Those who wish to listen to Redding's KZFR, but who can't receive the radio signal can now also listen via the station's new free live streaming audio worldwide online at kzfr.org.

Additional stations may be added before the air date. Watch your local paper and the theatre's website (www.barestage.com) for further announcements.

War Of The Worlds 2006 Promos

Fri, 20 Oct 2006 07:57:36 -0700

ALIEN INVASION PANICS NORTH STATE?
BareStage Offers New Telling Of Classic

Don't be surprised if you're scanning your radio dial shortly after 8 p.m. on the night of October 30 and you discover the northstate is under full-scale assault and Red Bluff has been burned to the ground.

It's not a terrorist attack ... at least not terrorists as we know them today.

It's the BareStage Theatre's modern adaptation of a classic science fiction story in which Martians attempt to destroy the world, airing on the anniversary of the radio broadcast of the same name that panicked the world in 1938.

At 8 p.m. on October 30 of that year, most radio listeners were enjoying the comedy antics of ventriloquist Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy on the popular "Chase and Sanborn Hour" on NBC. About ten minutes in, however, the musical guest (Dorothy Lamour, singing "Two Sleepy People") was introduced and listeners took the opportunity to scan the dial to see what was on the other stations -- what would much later be called "channel surfing."

As they tuned into CBS, they heard another music broadcast, but this one was quickly interrupted by what sounded like live news reports being broadcast from some place called Grover's Mills, New Jersey, where a large meteor had apparently fallen in a farmer's field. As the broadcast briskly progressed, alien creatures emerged from the crater and began blasting the crowd with lasers, before turning their attention to the major cities of New Jersey and New York.
Needless to say, in a world that was still unaccustomed to hoaxes and for whom the power of the media was not yet realized, listeners lost their minds. Phone boards across the country lit up with frantic calls to police, radio stations and newspapers to verify the story, and to loved ones to at least say goodbye. The sheer volume of the calls clogged the phone systems and resulted in even more mayhem.

Most people were already scared out of their wits by the time the program finished, but those who stayed glued to their dials eventually found out that it was merely a work of fiction, based on a then-40-year-old science fiction novel, "War Of The Worlds," by H.G. Wells, and staged by an insightful and powerful young actor named Orson Welles and his radio drama troupe, the Mercury Theatre On The Air.

The next day, the front pages of newspapers throughout the world proclaimed "Martian Invasion Panics Nation," and, for a while, it looked like Welles and his actors might be thrown in jail. As it turned out, however, the previously obscure Mercury Theatre actually gained its first major sponsor, the wealthy Campbell's Soup Company, and Welles got an unprecedented contract (and salary) to make any movie he wanted for RKO Pictures.

The result, incidentally, was "Citizen Kane," what many critics and film analysts consider to be the greatest movie ever made.

Sixty-eight years later, Red Bluff's BareStage Theatre is reviving the idea of that original broadcast. But, this time, it takes place in northern California. Specifically, the problems begin in Tehama County, when meteors begin falling in a certain rural community (the exact location is kept under wraps until the actual broadcast). From there, the panic spreads to Shasta and Butte Counties and, before long, the entire north state is under siege.

"There are quite a few differences between this and the original," said the author of the new adaptation, and BareStage Artistic Director, Bryon Burruss. "Instead of interrupting a music broadcast, the special reports break into a north state news program similar to National Public Radio's 'All Things Considered.'

"What makes this fun is that all the stories covered in the interrupted program ultimately tie in with the larger story, but you don't really realize that until later in the broadcast."

Actually, he said, this version is not based on the 1938 radio drama at all. The main similarity will be merely that both versions will have been aired on the radio. What it is based on is the first of two books that made up the original 1898 novel, though set in the modern world.

As a result, those familiar with the Mercury production may be surprised at the differences, including a very different ending.

But, the real challenge, he said, was in making the 108-year-old story fresh for a modern audience.

This time, for example, instead of a reporter in the field, most of the direct description of events comes from a passerby calling in on a cell phone.

And the pacing is ultimately much faster, to meet the tastes of a 21st century audience.
What will make it most engaging for north state listeners, he said, will be descriptions of areas you actually know, and hearing familiar buildings and landmarks you recognize destroyed.

"It does send an eerie chill up your spine," he said.

"We took a lot of time to carefully craft the descriptive passages to make them especially vivid and tangible."

But, Burruss said, it was also a major chore to iron out some believability issues from the Mercury Theatre broadcast.

"National Guard troops moved across several states in a matter of minutes in that broadcast, for example," he said. "If anything, we've tried to make this even more realistic and credible than the original."

So, is he worried that the north state will panic like the nation did 68 years ago?

"Not really," he answered. "That already happened.

“Besides, it's a different world now. As a nation, we're more skeptical and seldom trust anything we see or hear these days. Most Americans expect everything to be entertainment and are honestly more often upset if it isn't."

Nonetheless, he added, the program opening and closing will clearly state it is a work of fiction.

"And anyway," he added, "by now we all know that no life exists on Mars..."

"Or does it?"

The theatre will hold a reception, starting at 6:30 p.m., on the night of the broadcast (Monday, Oct. 30). The evening will offer large amounts of food and drinks, displays and a slide show, and actors from the drama will be in attendance, as well as representatives from the radio stations airing the broadcast.
Shortly before 8 p.m. attendees will gather in the theatre and listen to the broadcast, as it is aired, on the theatre's surround stereo system.
Proceeds from the night will enable the theatre to expand its free audio offerings.

Tickets are $12 General Admission, include complimentary food and drinks and are available online 24 hours a day at www.barestage.com, at various Red Bluff outlets, or at the door, while they last, on the night of the event.

Reservations or information at 529-1241.
"War Of The Worlds" will air at 8 p.m. Monday, October 30 on KQMS (1400 AM), KZFR (90.1 FM) and KRBH (107.7 FM).

Additional stations may be added before the air date. Watch your local paper and the theatre's website (www.barestage.com) for further announcements.

Radio Listeners In Panic . . .

Sun, 1 Oct 2006 01:33:43 -0700

A wave of mass hysteria seized thousands of radio listeners last night when a broadcast of a dramatization of H. G. Wells's fantasy, "The War of the Worlds," led thousands to believe that an interplanetary conflict had started with invading Martians spreading wide death and destruction in New Jersey and New York.   The broadcast, which disrupted households, interrupted religious services, created traffic jams and clogged communications systems, was made by Orson Welles, who as the radio character, "The Shadow," used to give "the creeps" to countless child listeners. This time at least a score of adults required medical treatment for shock and hysteria.   In Newark, in a single block at Heddon Terrace and Hawthorne Avenue, more than twenty families rushed out of their houses with wet handkerchiefs and towels over their faces to flee from what they believed was to be a gas raid. Some began moving household furniture.   Throughout New York families left their homes, some to flee to near-by parks. Thousands of persons called the police, newspapers and radio stations here and in other cities of the United States and Canada seeking advice on protective measures against the raids.   The program was produced by Mr. Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the Air over station WABC and the Columbia Broadcasting System's coast-to-coast network, at 8 o'clock.   The radio play, as presented, was to simulate a regular radio program with a "break-in" for the material of the play. The radio listeners, apparently, missed or did not listen to the introduction, which was: "The Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations present Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the Air in `The War of the Worlds' by H. G. Wells."   They also failed to associate the program with the newspaper listening of the program, announced as "Today: 8:00--Play: H. G. Wells's `War of the Worlds'--WABC." They ignored three additional announcements made during the broadcast emphasizing its fictional nature.   Mr. Welles opened the program with a description of the series of which it is a part. The simulated program began. A weather report was given, prosaically. an announcer remoarked that the program would be continued from a hotel, with dance music. for a few moments a dance program was given in the usual manner. Then there was a "break-in" with a "flash" about a professor at an observatory noting a series of gas explosions on the planet Mars.   News bulletins and scene broadcasts followed, reporting, with the technique in which the radio had reported actual events, the landing of a "meteor" near Princeton N. J., "killing" 1,500 persons, the discovery that the "meteor" was a "metal cylinder" containing strange creatures from Mars armed with "death rays" to open hostilities against the inhabitants of the earth.   Despite the fantastic nature of the reported "occurrences," the program, coming after the recent war scare in Europe and a period in which the radio frequently had interrupted regularly scheduled programs to report developments in the Czechosolvak situation, caused fright and panic throughout the area of the broadcast.   Telephone lines were tied up with calls from listeners or persons who had heard of the broadcasts. Many sought first to verify the reports. But large numbers, obviously in a state of terror, asked how they could follow the broadcast's advice and flee from the city, whether they would be safer in the "gas raid" in the cellar or on the roof, how they could safeguard their children, and many of the questions which had been worrying residents of London and Paris during the tense days before the Munich agreement.   So many calls came to newspapers and so many newspapers found it advisable to check on the reports despite their fantastic content that The Associated Press sent out the following at 8:48 P. M.:   "Note to Editors: Queries to newspapers from radio listeners throughout the United States tonight, regarding a reported meteor fall which killed a number of New Jerseyites, are the result of a studio dramatization. The A. P."   Similarly police teletype systems carried notices to all stationhouses, and police short-wave radio stations notified police radio cars that the event was imaginary.   Message From the Police   The New York police sent out the following:   "To all receivers: Station WABC informs us that the broadcast just concluded over that station was a dramatization of a play. No cause for alarm."   The New Jersey State Police teletyped the following:   "Note to all receivers--WABC broadcast as drama re this section being attacked by residents of Mars. Imaginary affair."   From one New York theatre a manager reported that a throng of playgoers had rushed from his theatre as a result of the broadcast. He said that the wives of two men in the audience, having heard the broadcast, called the theatre and insisted that their husbands be paged. This spread the "news" to others in the audience.   The switchboard of The New York Times was overwhelmed by the calls. A total of 875 were received. One man who called from Dayton, Ohio, asked, "What time will it be the end of the world?" A caller from the suburbs said he had had a houseful of guests and all had rushed out to the yard for safety.   Warren Dean, a member of the American Legion living in Manhattan, who telephoned to verify the "reports," expressed indignation which was typical of that of many callers.   "I've heard a lot of radio programs, but I've never heard anything as rotten as that," Mr. Dean said. "It was too realistic for comfort. They broke into a dance program with a news flash. Everybody in my house was agitated by the news. It went on just like press radio news."   At 9 o'clock a woman walked into the West Forty-seventh Street police station dragging two children, all carrying extra clothing. She said she was ready to leave the city. Police persuaded her to stay.   A garbled version of the reports reached the Dixie Bus terminal, causing officials there to prepare to change their schedule on confirmation of "news" of an accident at Princeton on their New Jersey route. Miss Dorothy Brown at the terminal sought verification, however, when the caller refused to talk with the dispatcher, explaining to here that "the world is coming to an end and I have a lot to do."   Harlem Shaken By the "News"   Harlem was shaken by the "news." Thirty men and women rushed into the West 123d Street police station and twelve into the West 135th Street station saying they had their household goods packed and were all ready to leave Harlem if the police would tell them where to go to be "evacuated." One man insisted he had heard "the President's voice" over the radio advising all citizens to leave the cities.   The parlor churches in the Negro district, congregations of the smaller sects meeting on the ground floors of brownstone houses, took the "news" in stride as less faithful parishioners rushed in with it, seeking spiritual consolation. Evening services became "end of the world" prayer meetings in some.   One man ran into the Wadsworth Avenue Police Station in Washington Heights, white with terror, crossing the Hudson River and asking what he should do. A man came in to the West 152d Street Station, seeking traffic directions. The broadcast became a rumor that spread through the district and many persons stood on street corners hoping for a sight of the "battle" in the skies.   In Queens the principal question asked of the switchboard operators at Police Headquarters was whether "the wave of poison gas will reach as far as Queens." Many said they were all packed up and ready to leave Queens when told to do so.   Samuel Tishman of 100 Riverside Drive was one of the multitude that fled into the street after hearing part of the program. He declared that hundreds of persons evacuated their homes fearing that the "city was being bombed."   "I came home at 9:15 P.M. just in time to receive a telephone call from my nephew who was frantic with fear. He told me the city was about to be bombed from the air and advised me to get out of the building at once. I turned on the radio and heard the bradcast which coroborated what my nephew had said, grabbed my hat and coat and a few personal belongings and ran to the elevator. When I got to the street there were hundreds of people milling around in panic. Most of us ran toward Broadway and it was not until we stopped taxi drivers who had heard the entire broadcast on their radios that we knew what it was all about. It was the most asinine stunt I ever heard of."   "I heard that broadcast and almost had a heart attack," said Louis Winkler of 1,322 Clay Avenue, the Bronx. "I didn't tune it in until the program was half over, but when I heard the names and titles of Federal, State and municipal officials and when the `Secretary of the Interior' was introduced, I was convinced it was the McCoy. I ran out into the street with scores of others, and found people running in all directions. The whole thing came over as a news broadcast and in my mind it was a pretty crummy thing to do."   The Telegraph Bureau switchboard at police headquarters in Manhattan, operated by thirteen men, was so swamped with calls from apprehensive citizens inquiring about the broadcast that police business was seriously interfered with.   Headquarters, unable to reach the radio station by telephone, sent a radio patrol car there to ascertain the reason for the reaction to the program. When the explanation was given, a police message was sent to all precincts in the five boroughs advising the commands of the cause.   "They're Bombing New Jersey!"   Patrolman John Morrison was on duty at the switchboard in the Bronx Police Headquarters when, as he afterward expressed it, all the lines became busy at once. Among the first who answered was a man who informed him:   "They're bombing New Jersey!"   "How do you know?" Patrolman Morrison inquired.   "I heard it on the radio," the voice at the other end of the wire replied. "Then I went to the roof and I could see the smoke from the bombs, drifting over toward New York. What shall I do?"   The patrolman calmed the caller as well as he could, then asnwered other inquiries from persons who wanted to know whether the reports of a bombardment were true, and if so where they should take refuge.   At Brooklyn police headquarters, eight men assigned to the monitor switchboard estimated that they had answered more than 800 inquiries from persons who had been alarmed by the broadcast. A number of these, the police said, came from motorists who had heard the program over their car radios and were alarmed both for themselves and for persons at their homes. Also, the Brooklyn police reported, a preponderance of the calls seemed to come from women.   The National Broadcasting Company reported that men stationed at the WJZ transmitting station at Bound Brook, N. J., had received dozens of calls from residents of that area. The transmitting station communicated with New York an passed the information that there was no cuase for alarm to the persons who inquired later.   Meanwhile the New York telephone operators of the company found their switchboards swamped with incoming demands for information, although the NBC system had no part in the program.   Record Westchester Calls   The State, county, parkway and local police in Westchester Counter were swamped also with calls from terrified residents. Of the local police departments, Mount Vernon, White Plains, Mount Kisco, Yonkers and Tarrytown received most of the inquiries. At first the authorities thought they were being made the victims of a practical joke, but hwen the calls persisted an dincreased in volume they began to make inquiries. The New York Telephone Company reported that it had never handled so many calls in one hour in years in Westchester.   One man called the Mount Vernon Police Headquarters to find out "where the forty policement were killed"; another said he brother was ill in bed listening to the broadcast and when he heard the reports he got into an automobile and "disappeared." "I'm nearly crazy!" the caller exclaimed.   Because some of the inmates took the catastrophic reports seriously as they came over the radio, some of the hospitals and the county penitentiary ordered that the radios be turned off.   Thousands of calls came in to Newark Police Headquarters. These were not only from the terrorstricken. Hundreds of physicians and nurses, believing the reports to be true, called to volunteer their services to aid the "injured." City ofifcials also claled in to make "emergency" arrangements for the population. Radio cars were stopped by the panicky throughout that city.   Jersey City police headquarters received similiar clals. One woman asked detective Timothy Grooty, on duty there, "Shall I close my windows?" A man asked, "Have the police any extra gas masks?" Many of the callers, on being assured the reports were fiction, queried again and again, uncertain in whom to believe.   Scores of persons in lower Newark Avenue, Jersey City, left their homes and stood fearfully in the street, looking with apprehension toward the sky. A radio car was dispatched there to reassure them.   The incident at Hedden Terrace and Hawthorne Avenue, in Newark, one of the most dramatic in the area, caused a tie-up in traffic for blocks around. the more than twenty families there apparently believed the "gas attack" had started, and so reported to the police. An ambulance, three radio cars and a police emergency squad of eight men were sent to the scene with full inhalator apparatus.   They found the families with wet cloths on faces contorted with hysteria. The police calmed them, halted the those who were attempting to move thier furniture on their cars and after a time were able to clear the traffic snarl.   At St. Michael's Hospital, High Street and Central Avenue, in the heart of the Newark industrial district, fifteen men and women were treated for shock and hysteria. In some cases it was necessary to give sedatives, and nurses and physicians sat down and talked with the more seriously affected.   While this was going on, three persons with children under treatment in the institution telephoned that they were taking them out and leaving the city, but their fears were calmed when hospital authorities explained what had happened.   A flickering of electric lights in Bergen County from about 6:15 to 6:30 last evening provided a build-up for the terror that was to ensue when the radio broadcast started.   Without going out entirely, the lights dimmed and brightened alternately and radio reception was also affected. The Public Service Gas and Electric Company was mystified by the behavior of the lights, declaring there was nothing wrong at their power plants or in their distributing system. A spokesman for the service department said a call was made to Newark and the same situation was reported. He believed, he said, that the condition was general throughout the State.   The New Jersey Bell Telephone Company reported that every central office in the State was flooded with calls for more than an hour and the company did not have time to summon emergency operators to relieve the congestion. Hardest hit was the Trenton toll office, which handled calls from all over the East.   One of the radio reports, the statement about the mobilization of 7,000 national guardsmen in New Jersey, caused the armories of the Sussex and Essex troops to be swamped with calls from officers and men seeking information about the mobilization place.   Prayers for Deliverance   In Caldwell, N. J., an excited parishoner ran into the First Baptist Church during evening services and shouted that a meteor had fallen, showering death and destruction, and that North Jersey was threatened. The Rev. Thomas Thomas, the pastor quieted the congregation and all prayed for deliverance from the "catastrophe."   East Orange police headquarters received more than 200 calls from persons who wanted to know what to do to escape the "gas." Unaware of the broadcast, the switchboard operator tried to telephone Newark, but was unable to get the call through because the switchboard at Newark headquarters was tied up. The mystery was not cleared up until a teletype explanation had been received from Trenton.   More than 100 calls were received at Maplewood police headquarters and during the excitement two families of motorists, residents of New York City, arrived at the station to inquire how they were to get back to their homes now that the Pulaski Skyway had been blown up.   The women and children were crying and it took some time for the police to convince them that the catastrophe was fictitious. Many persons who called Maplewood said their neighbors were packing their possessions and preparing to leave for the country.   In Orange, N. J., an unidentified man rushed into the lobby of the Lido Theatre, a neighborhood motion picture house, with the intention of "warning" the audience that a meteor had fallen on Raymond Boulevard, Newark, and was spreading poisonous gases. Skeptical, Al Hochberg, manager of the theatre, prevented the man from entering the auditorium of the theatre and then called the police. He was informed that the radio broadcast was responsible for the man's alarm.   Emanuel Priola, bartender of a tavern at 442 Valley Road, West Orange, closed the place, sending away six customers, in the middle of the broadcast to "rescue" his wife and two children.   "At first I thought it was a lot of Buck Rogers stuff, but when a friend telephoned me that general orders had been issued to evacuate every one from the metropolitan area I put the customers out, closed the place and started to drive home," he said.   William H. Decker of 20 Aubrey Road, Montclair, N. J., denounced the broadcast as "a disgrance" and "an outrage," which he said had frightened hundreds of residents in his community, including children. He said he knew of one woman who ran into the street with her two children and asked for the help of neighbors in saving them.   "We were sitting in the living room casually listening to the radio," he said, "when we heard reports of a meteor falling near New Brunswick and reports that gas was spreading. Then there was an announcement of the Secretary of Interior from Washington who spoke of the happening as a major disaster. It was the worst thing I ever heard over the air."   Columbia Explains Broadcast   The Columbia Broadcasting System issued a statement saying that the adaption of Mr. Wells's novel which was broadcast "followed the original closely, but ot make the imaginary details more interesting to American listeners the adapter, Orson Welles, substituted an American locale for the English scenes of the story."   Pointing out that the fictional character of the broadcast had been announced four times and had been previously publicized, it continued:   "Nevertheless, the program apparently was produced with such vividness that some listeners who may have heard only fragments thought the broadcast was fact, not fiction. Hundreds of telephone calls reaching CBS stations, city authorities, newspaper offices and police headquarters in various cities testified to the mistaken belief.   "Naturally, it was neither Columbia's nor the Mercury Theatre's intention to mislead any one, and when it became evident that a part of the audience had been disturbed by th performance five announcements were read over the network later in the evening to reassure those listeners."   Expressing profound regret that his dramatic efforts should cause such consternation, Mr. Welles said: "I don't think we will choose anything like this again." He hesitated about presenting it, he disclosed, because "it was our thought that perhaps people might be bored or annoyed at hearing a tale so improbable."