‘Prairie’ lingers on the mind

“It’s a magical thing when wooden boxes pull ghosts out of the sky.”

To properly contemplate that sentiment, one must fall into a mindset bereft of cable modems, instant messaging, and, dare I say it, cell phones. You have to simplify your data stream and allow only one means of input to reach your brain, the spoken word.

E-mails are slowly eliminating actual conversation as the means to interact between humans in modern times, but in Murphys Creek Theatre’s latest offering, John Olive’s sprawling yet confined “Voice of the Prairie,” just listening to a person speak becomes a welcome diversion and a powerful means of connection.

It helps that the storyteller most frequently heard on the Theatre Under the Stars stage is Jack Souza. His voice is assured but never cocky, and his tale-telling abilities are wonderfully engaging; you want the details to come quickly because the stories are so good, but you don’t want him to rush it because his velvety intonation and “come with me” nature are so darned satisfying.

Souza is David Quinn, a man who has a lifetime of stories to share with listeners who are just falling in love with that newfangled radio gizmo in the 1920s. But I’m getting ahead of the production.

Using the same set that “As You Like It” did, Director Graham Scott Green’s cast uses the massive stage well, considering there’s a lot of acreage to cover during such an intimate show. The gazebo serves as a jail cell, and bales of hay act as railroad cars and settees.

At the start, things are a bit murky as to what’s going on between the characters onstage. After a few lines are delivered, we learn that Souza is playing Davey’s father initially, and Josh Gren is the young Davey.

As Act I moves along, the narration of the story shifts effortlessly (with some clever costume changes made onstage) between Davey and David and their respective times. Gren shifts from his role as Davey to that of Leon Schwab, a huckster who’s making his bucks by working deals with local hardware stores whenever he rolls his portable transmitter into a new town. Upon arriving at each new prairie stopover, Schwab also gathers local talent to perform in front of his microphone.

When Schwab stumbles upon David, he can tell there’s a story for every occasion inside the man’s head, but David is initially quite shy about speaking his mind; he’s afraid no one is listening.

Most of David’s stories follow his travels as a youth with Frankie, a blind girl he meets. Tara Kayton is terrific as the ball of energy that is Frankie. The young lady has come from a terribly abusive home, and she finds much adventure riding the rails and stealing watermelons with Davey. “We’re invisible when we’re together,” she muses.

I’ll quit telling the tale there, because it’s a fine story to pull around your chilled shoulders after the sun sets at the amphitheater.

This is not a laugh-a-minute comedy or a gripping, tense drama; rather, it’s the kind of story best told under the stars, possibly with a campfire crackling in the background.

Lara Ford and William Trier round out the cast, each deftly portraying various folks from Davey and Frankie’s journeys.

Driving away from the venue last Thursday, I wasn’t too keen on this show; I didn’t quite get it. But after some reflection, it has sunk in and I have to say I liked it. The actors give the action just the right amount of levity and they all completely inhabit their characters.

Leave the distraction-inducing gizmos of today at home and pack a simple picnic dinner. Settle back and watch the story unfold; you’ll feel the magic from the wooden box.