A reproduction of the playbill, used most recently at the 16th annual Seminational Theatrical Libretto Meeting in 2010.
Have you ever heard of the musical "The Puppetmaster's Regime"? Most likely, you haven't. In fact, most diehard theatre lovers are often unfamiliar with this little production.
It was a 1934 stage play, and the music, lyrics, and book were written anonymously. It starred upcoming performers such as Timmy "Cutie-Pie" Wright, Sally Wilkes, Henry Gregory, and many others. At the time, it was the most expensive production to date. It was said to be the biggest, most spectacular stage show all the way to San Francisco and back.
Testimonies
Tyler Warwick (1901-1983):
"I went to see the show about a week after I turned thirty-three. The ticket was a gift from my sister, who knew how much I loved the theatre. I remember the signs for it were huge and rather gaudy. Oh, and the playbill - it was just a single red dot with a doll-like face on it. It seemed a bit melancholy for what I assumed was to be a musical comedy, but I didn’t pay much attention; I was going to see a Broadway show."
Georgina Long (1911-1984):
"I had come to New York with my parents on an impromptu vacation after my grandmother had died...a Broadway musical seemed just like what we needed. Anyway, the cast was made completely of 'new' people: young children and adults alike who were longing to get back on stage after Vaudeville became old news. It was quite charming, really. But I did take notice of that odd little playbill...all the playwrights and lyricists and everyone else were all unnamed, and that design...just a little red drop with a peculiar little face in it. Not even a title. (…)"
Carl Hannigan (1920-1993):
"I do recall most of the first act. Then again, who could forget? The story was slightly hard to follow at first. There was a little boy who lived in a puppet shop, or maybe he lived down the street...no, no, he worked in the puppet shop, but he was homeless, so they provided him with a home there. The kid's name was Mori...Mortim...something weird...oh yes, it was Morietum...no, Morietur. Morietur, yes.
Morietur's employer was this old man named Mr. Obcisor. I remember his name because his character was unimaginably unsettling, bouncing all around and getting angry at the little boy, all while keeping this nasal, giggly voice. Anyhow, the production opened to Morietur and the odd fellow getting into an argument over the boy not doing his work, then the two of them sang this peculiar number about puppets. It wasn't a normal song...or at least, the musicality wasn't normal. The lyrics were very enchanting, and the music did this odd flowing thing about the room…instruments would get very quiet without losing any power. Maybe it was just the acoustics...I'm most likely explaining it wrong, anyway. Oh well. But in time, we got used to it, and the show progressed..."
Gabriel Johnston (1919-1976):
"This youngster, Mori... Morietur, something like that, was quite insecure about his stay in the puppet shop, and paranoid that his boss would throw him out. I was an aspiring lyricist at the time, and I'd done the lyrics to a few original community theater projects, so I was fascinated with the wording in these songs. I scribbled down a few lines after I went home. Unless I'm remembering wrong, the little puppet-shop-boy and Mr. Obi-something had a introductory duet, and then Morietur went off for a short lament. That was a different, much more somber tune:
If I stay, and do everything right, I can live in the day, and steer (stay?) clear of the night
Out there in the dark, there’s a world of whys (lies?)…
I can hear them whisper…
And sometimes I can see their eyes…
The ‘eyes’ comment confused me for a moment, but I assumed that he was talking about the stars. It seemed as though the number was unnecessarily tragic and poorly situated within the show, but that was a minor quibble.
Now, Morietur had a girl friend named Trahunt and a boy friend named Adolebit. After interrupting the final note in his lament, they all gushed about how much they loved puppets...but they couldn’t afford one from Morietur’s guardian’s shop, so they transitioned into this vibrant little number about joining forces to raise money so they could build their own puppet. After this, the three all headed for school, and the story took a sharp turn in a different direction.
(After several attempts to begin again) Now...they had this really nasty teacher or headmistress named Madame Reperio, or something like that. There was a reprise of the song from before, and she overheard them. At first, her remarks about the children's fantasies were somewhat comical...but then the light fixed on her and she sang this heartbreaking song, the meaning of which was up for interpretation. It felt like it was about love, but there were all these strange puppet metaphors. The only lyric that’s stayed with me is "Stroll through the wood-cracks, show them your pains/The hole in your throat and the strings in your veins".
Then she went on this little breakdown. I assumed it was a poorly-conceived character trait. She began singing off-key and went to beat one of the kids. The curtain fell, and there was a scuffle heard onstage. People whispered to each other, but a rising new orchestra piece silenced us. The curtain rose again, and we were right outside the puppet shop."
Louis Roberts (1905-1967):'
"Morietur and his friends went into the town and sang a song about selling...dolls, I think it was. Because the little girl made dolls in her spare time, and she had to sell them. I remember those strange background characters. The company was so absolutely monotonous...they all wore some form of dark clothing, and each of them was very, very tall. I can remember how they all had their faces covered up by hair or hats or veils...none of them spoke. None of them even sang during the course of the show. They just walked in perfectly straight lines, as if they weren't even part of the production.
Anyways, this strange song about buying dolls...it had absolutely no life. But for some reason, these children were putting their all into it. I could see the pain in their faces as they hit those high notes. And something else...as the lyrics went on...they seemed to...get...a little...it is so hard to explain. They all looked like they were...hurting. They were so pale and nervous all of a sudden. Coming from a Broadway family, I convinced myself it was only stage fright, but it still made me just a tiny bit anxious."
Carrie Laurie (1921-1995):
"The kids all got their money from this strange man in a cloak who sang a simple little tune...I still remember the lyrics:
Despite the fall of rain, little kiddies,
Everyone needs a little song.
Wooden dolls give you pain, little kiddies,
Go on, little kiddies, run along...
His character was never really explained. But I remember how truly gripping the melody was...so haunting. It got you right there in the gut. Even the little kid actors seemed unsettled by the new turn of the show. They all kept stuttering over their lines as they spoke and sang, and then a light bulb over the stage went out. Everyone gasped, and one man I think even laughed. The noise it made really spooked the little girl, little miss whatshername. All the names were so very strange. All I know is that a light bulb had gone out and the actors were stumbling across the stage... the whole thing looked like a terrible flop.
When the children reentered the puppet shop, they presented Mr. Obcisor with the puppet pieces they’d acquired while the audience wasn’t looking, singing a braggedy sort of chant, "we done/we done/diddy-diddy done-done did it!". It was obnoxious, but thankfully brief. After that, the light fixed on Morietur, and he began another tune. The song was a dud, and all I remember was that he flubbed the last line. The lyric had something to do with 'the final stroke of light', or some sort of long-winded, moon-based metaphor. All I know is that he forgot the words, and all that could be heard in that theater was the sounds of car horns outside the building. The boy...he didn't seemed shocked or embarrassed or nothing, but his posture improved out of the blue, and the orchestra stopped. He projected half of the word "sorry", then suddenly burst forth into wordless vocalization. The music resumed, and the other characters began to join him."
Marcus Edger (1918-1968):
"...So after that bulb went out, the whole set started falling apart. We, the audience, tried our best to ignore it. But it was near-impossible. I saw two sets of very angry attendees get up and leave. The set piece for the puppet shop screeched its way onto the stage, and we could see the paper sky background falling down in the far back. The lights also dimmed in what we assumed was an attempt to hide the malfunctioning set pieces. The kids, with the help of an oddly monotonous Mr. Obcisor, constructed the puppet...and this strange song played. To this day, I don't know what they were saying. At the time, it sounded vaguely like Latin, but I went on to study Latin in college the next year and it certainly wasn't like anything I learned. I remember how it enchanted me, though. It enchanted all of us. We all began to feel this...thing...course through us. I remember a few people humming in an attempt to rid themselves of the sound, and those in the front rows seemed to be crying out in what sounded like pain.
The actors themselves looked as though they were about to pass out at any moment. They were doing this odd sort of ballet, tripping all over themselves, and a few more lights started flashing and breaking. We all sat and waited for the song to end, when...when...I'm sorry. (pause) I'm so sorry...I can't..."
George Frank (1899-1999):
"...The lights were going on and off at random, and we were all praying the damn song would end soon. It had this force going with it...it was sucking us in. We could feel it. The little kids and the puppet man were dancing all around when...well, you see...(pause)...I really thought I could do it. I thought I could do it...I was right there in the fifth row, so I saw…but I can't..."
Carolyn Mark (1901-1949):
"...The lighting was completely out of control. It was a mess. And that song...it was awful. But something about it...it was powerful. It had a force. I watched intently as the dancers began to skip around and...and...we...I thought they were...the lights..."
Final Testimony
The actual events of the final scene of Act I of "The Puppetmaster's Regime" have been up for debate for many years. Few people are willing to speak about what happened onstage during those final moments. Many believe that there is no actual record of an interview with somebody who was willing the tell the story. This is not true. One testament survives from a Billy Prescott, who was only six at the time of the show. At such a young age, one might assume he was less affected by what he recalls happening:
"...I was just a kid, so I don't remember much. All I can vaguely recall is that song...it was giving me a headache. I turned to my father to ask him if we could leave, when suddenly, I saw the stage illuminate in this bright red light. The music stopped as one instrument after another died out, and I swear I heard pounding underneath the floor. Everyone was questioning what was happening...even the actors. I remember that teacher lady being pushed through the door of the shop...and then everyone else came flying in from offstage, toppling on top of each other like ragdolls. There were people there who didn’t fit the design scheme of the production - stagehands and technical workers, I assume now. I remember the little girl screamed at the audience, then ran behind the shopkeeper while other actors continued singing. A few people started crying right there on the stage, when without warning, this...curtain...came forward.
It's hard to describe what it looked like. It was a clear plastic wall, and it came down from above. Several years later I saw Carrie: The Musical on Broadway during one of its few runs...the thing that came down on the promgoers when Carrie was using laser lights to kill everyone? It was just like that. A bunch of set pieces from earlier scenes came down onto the sides of the stage, trapping all of the actors in the center.
Chaos erupted. The actors stopped singing and began pounding on the plastic wall. Then, for some reason, they began to back away, as if some unseen assailants were approaching them. They fled to the back of the stage, all except the little boy. He was the only one who hadn’t stopped singing.
Amid all that screaming and crying, the curtain flew out, and everything was in silence. Due to that odd abruptness, the audience thought it was just a horrible ending to a terrible musical. We were about to get up when the curtain opened again, revealing the stationary plastic wall, upon which was a single light fixed onto the little boy, Morietur. He had clawed his way through. We could see the blood on his hands...but…(pause)…the way he looked was…(…)
There were strings attached to every part of his body. We could all see his stomach...or lack of one, anyway. It was like somebody had put a huge ice cream scooper through his belly. He was sobbing all over the stage, twitching and swinging around. It was a sight so unnatural-looking, so painful and twisted and wrong...even now, I can't seem to wrap my head around how, but...(pause)...and so...and so everyone looked at him, not knowing what to do...and then he spoke...
"Help me...please...help me..." was all I could make out, and then he vomited and suddenly collapsed. The plastic wall lifted and the lights all came on. We saw the rest of them.
They were all dead. Every one of them looked exactly like the little boy. Everyone had those strings attached...and we watched as all of them, even the little boy...as their strings were pulled on. Their lifeless bodies rose on cue, and they bowed."
Conclusion
We cannot be certain that the above statements make up a credible account...but unfortunately, it's all we have to work with.
"The Puppetmaster's Regime" sparked much debate among the theatre companies. Several audience members had to go to therapy for years to come...and the show itself was covered up by the police. The theatre company, as well as the police department, who had never managed to solve the gruesome murders of the cast and crew of the show, denied that the play ever existed. However, in recent years, the story has resurfaced...sparking a lot of new conversations on the subject.
The theater that housed the musical still refuses to acknowledge the show's existence, and most theatre historians know nothing about the show in general. To this day, the identities of the anonymous lyric and music writers are unknown, and (to our knowledge) all recordings and police reports have been destroyed.
Despite this, through certain pieces of historical documentation, some info on the production has been unearthed: the show itself had its first workshop in London in 1928. One of the songs, "Get A Puppet", was recorded with vocals by twelve-year-old Garris Creely. This recording is presumed to have been lost, though some say it is available on the black market of the internet. Other than that, no official records were ever made. Some ancient accounts say that an illegal taping of the final scene of Act I was filmed from backstage, but we cannot be certain if this is anything but a rumor.
As for any official memorabilia, very little of anything has survived. Until her death in 1994, theatrical historian Gladys Masters kept two large-scale promotional posters that she displayed at charity events, but these have since disappeared. Early costumes by Alice Lively, the costume designer on the play until she quit following payment disputes, are on display at the Pickett-Dahny Theatrical Museum in Dover, England. Other than that, the previously-mentioned playbills from the production's premiere night were given out, but most audience members destroyed their copies after seeing the show. Legend has it, around ten to twenty survive.
The show has grown a small cult fan base over the years. Here, recently, an off-Broadway revival has been scheduled to premiere soon.
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Written by Hagenisnotacat
Originally uploaded on April 1st, 2012
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