This past weekend I attended the opening performance of the new anthology series, “Nighttime Stories”, produced by the NYC based production startup Fire on The Moon. This piece was totally unlike anything I’ve seen onstage in recent years. A consistent and easily repeatable performance is often considered the benchmark for successful theater, however, in the case of Nighttime Stories: A Doomed Village starring Tom Koch and dir. by Nicolle Marquez, the exact opposite is true. Herein lies the true brilliance of this immersive piece; much of the storytelling is done through the medium of the audience itself. The show begins with every viewer being provided with their own lantern. As the narrative progresses, the lighting shifts and changes at the behest of the curiosity and focus of the viewer. In other words, the chimeric choices of the audience enhance the performance; the more human their response to the stimuli provided, the more immersed you become in the world of A Doomed Village.

The design is so nuanced that it is comparable to both that of, say a Haunted House, just as much as it is to that of typical Theater. However, what has set this apart from your average, run-of-the-mill horror experience is the professionalism and Broadway intention applied to every theatrical discipline represented. From the set to the lights, the acting and the sound design, it is clear that much effort went into continuity and transforming the space.

Upon entering the foyer of the Gene Frankel Theater one is struck by the evocative and alluring melody of a completely original score. Beyond that of a simple overture, the composed music added a depth that’s not typically found in horror theater. Take one step through an unassuming curtain and the hair will raise on the back of your neck as you are immediately transported to the world of ‘Mount Tumoe’. The carefully structured set combined with the aforementioned dynamic lighting triggered an instinctive claustrophobia in me that I was previously unaware of. In a stroke of thematic genius, the dark corners in the multiple rooms and passageways mirror the dark corners of One’s mind. By ‘One’ I am of course speaking about the mysterious ‘Krem’, portrayed by the sole live performer and centerpiece of this production, Tom Koch. 

Koch (Krem) was my metaphorical guide through A Doomed Village, and as the narrative conductor it was his responsibility to ensure we understood the plot as it progressed. The storyline, while sufficiently creepy, becomes muddy and if not a little difficult to follow towards the climax; this shortcoming, however small, is made completely irrelevant by Koch’s detailed performance. Surrendering himself to the effect-heavy production proved to be an excellent choice for the surprisingly seasoned young actor.

I was nervous when first introduced to Krem, fairly unsure of whether to trust him, although his infectiously anxious demeanor seemed to reflect that he was experiencing a similar emotion. Encountering Krem at the entryway to his mountain cabin was like stumbling upon a starved animal; small, hunched over, Koch somehow made his body appear spindly and weak. Krem’s hollowed expression showed a familiarity with fear, but even scarier, was his immediate concern with our arrival. Krem wasn’t totally startled by the sudden apparition of an audience, but instead by the implications it meant for his and our lives. 

Packed together in the utterly terraformed space, listening to Koch’s panicked explanation of the events leading to this moment, I couldn’t help but admire the excellence of this piece. Standing next to Koch, hearing the quiver in his voice and witnessing the shifting of his eyes up close instilled a different kind of fear in me. Instead of reacting to some monster that jumps out and scares you, I was reacting to a subject in the same setting as me, experiencing terror. Terror that actually managed to get to me. I was jumpy and nervous, as was the rest of the audience, as was Koch. It is one thing to scare a group of people, but to get a group of people scared? That is a significant accomplishment that Koch achieved with ease. 

Afraid to move lest we obstruct Krem on his mission, the audience and I stood still in his Cabin, slowly more and more unsure of who we were. Whether we were merely a part of Krem’s subconscious, appearing as a manifestation of his guilt, or existed as a very real group of people who stumbled into a forest, we were unsure. This speaks to Koch’s talent for conceptual storytelling. His combination of crazed movements and precision stillness enabled the enigma greatly.

What lended to the severity of the situation was Koch’s emotional investment. Moments of very real grief, rage, and hopelessness, the display was so human that we as voyeurs could not help but feel sympathy. Our collective fright and intrigue grew thick as Koch metaphorically, but also literally, fought projections of Krem’s past traumas. Speaking to the talent of both the performer and the technical designer, there was a choreographed fight sequence between Koch and a projection. A delicate feat, and one I cannot say any more about without spoiling the conclusion of the piece, but I highly recommend you go find out the ending for yourself. 

Overall, I was engaged, scared, and felt like I was experiencing something new. At the end of the day those criteria are exactly the marks a show like this should be hitting. My only complaint was that it could’ve been longer, I would’ve been interested to see how the story could play out over more time. I briefly interviewed some of the other audience members after the show, and besides sharing a similar dissatisfaction with the length of the piece, there were no complaints. If the only negative thing to say is that there wasn’t more of it, then you’re doing something right.

Several viewers also remarked at Koch’s dedication to the character, “[I] was in awe at how much he was doing [all at once]. He controlled the room”.

Previously if I thought of immersive theatre I pictured floor, ceiling and wall projections, a soundtrack and maybe an aerosolized scent if I was lucky. This was so much more than large projections on the walls and floor, this exploratory and fresh experience revitalizes the term “immersive performance”. There are shows every night until January 21st (plus a matinee on the 22nd), and at only $20 this unique and truly scary production is not one to miss. 9.5/10.

The complete list of creatives is as follows:

Nicolle Marquez, Director. 

Tom Koch, Actor.

Mary Brennan, Stage Manager.

Drew Storcks, Composer.

Nino Amari, Scenic Designer. 

Reid Sullivan, Lighting Designer.

Astrid Lark-Peterson, Creator and Executive Producer.

Nick LaFalce, Producer.

Soundtrack by Astrid Lark-Peterson and Nick LaFalce.

Nodderly Media Production, Sound Design Partner