An Evening With Your Mad Uncle Kane

by Sam Adams
Charleston City Paper June 3, 1998
Spoleto Festival, SC

In the middle of Joshua Kane’s one man show, Gothic at Midnight, the lights go down and he begins his recital of Edgar Allan Poe’s The Tell-Tale Heart. To this point you have heard a few grisly tales, been hypnotized by Kane’s deep, rich voice and laughed quite a bit between stories at his friendly banter.

In other words, you are an unsuspecting puppet in the hands of Joshua Kane.

From here on in, I advise you to hold tight to your programs. One audience member, obviously a little rigid with fright, dropped his program, causing it to slither down a few steps and come to rest right behind my seat. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind not to turn and look, for were I to do so, I am positive that instead of the program would have been the old man with his wandering eye or worse still, the murderer and his axe, his stare intent….

The other remarkable aspect of Kane’s The Tell-Tale Heart is the heartbeat that rises very softly during his conclusion. What’s remarkable about this? Doesn’t every production of The Tell-Tale Heart use a heartbeat during the conclusion? No, every production doesn’t. More specifically, Joshua Kane’s doesn’t.

“Sound effects?” says Kane. “We don’t use sound effects.”

And therein lies the magic of Joshua Kane’s Gothic at Midnight. He turns theatre bills into axe murderers and pulls heartbeats from your imagination. And when each story finishes and the house lights come up, he turns that tinge of fear into laughter with jokes about anything from the local wildlife to a late-arriving audience member.

“I took a lesson from Alfred Hitchcock,” says Kane. “You can only scare your audience to a certain point. Then you’ve got to let them rest a moment. It’s like a roller coaster. You have to give them the long slow journey up before you plunge them down.”

To this end, every story in Gothic at Midnight is not intended to frighten. There are fairy tales from Ireland that charm and even a quick recital of poetry to round out the evening. “It is one thing to stretch an audience’s sensibilities,” says Kane. “It is another ting to snap them.”

Which is why Kane introduces the audience not only to the macabre, but to himself as well. He tells amusing tales about his grandmother and grandfather and his Jewish-Russian roots. “The family stuff is a way to let the audience get to know me personally,” says Kane. “If they’re going to spend two hours with no sets and no costumes, they deserve to get to know me.”

The sparse decoration of the stage is no impediment to Kane’s performance. In fact, the open set, consisting of only a table, a stool, a candle, a few miscellaneous items and a sarcophagus, allows the audience to indulge fully in Kane’s resonant voice.

“My show was deigned for the spectacle-weary audience,” says Kane, who nonetheless relishes the dark nature of his performance. “Since I’ve taken the stage at the Emmett Robinson Theatre,” says Kane, “20 old men have been murdered, I have set fire to about 60 people, and about 240 have died.”

It’s not, however, the body count that scares you. The deaths almost come as a welcome relief putting both the tortured character and the suspense-riveted audience out of their suffering. The real fright comes from within. “I rely on the audience to do most of the work,” says Kane. “To fuel the show with their imagination, I provide the skeletons, they flesh out the experience.”

For any fan of gothic tales and gothic horror, Joshua Kane’s show is the Piccolo event to attend. As he says, “I invite my audience to spend an evening in the parlor of a mad uncle.” A very mad and quite funny uncle, who amuses you with his antics, frightens you with his intensity and charms you with his tales of the fantastic.

Joshua Kane will perform Gothic at Midnight: A Tribute to the Masters of the Macabre on June 4 at 11 pm. June 5-6 at 8 pm. $15. $12 for students. The June 4-5 shows will be in the Recital Hall at the College of Charleston. The June 6 show will be in the Emmett Robinson Theatre at the College of Charleston.