Edgar Allan Poe is famous for his gothic tales, but his own life was mysterious, too.
Or rather his own death: In October 1849 he disappeared while on a trip only to reemerge in Baltimore, wearing strange clothes and jabbering incoherently. A few days later, he croaked.
The new “Red-Eye to Havre de Grace” retraces Poe’s last known moments: He took a train from Richmond, Va., to New York, then headed back south — his final destination.
It’s an intriguing topic, but while the journey starts off promisingly, it doesn’t go anywhere, stuck as it is in a self-indulgent rut.
The piece starts on a jokey-explanatory note, as a park ranger from Philadelphia’s Poe National Historic Site (Jeremy Wilhelm, one of the show’s creators) tells the audience to turn off their phones, before recapping the writer’s short and stormy life.
And off we go, with the ranger segueing into Poe’s poem “The Conqueror Worm,” set to music by Jeremy Wilhelm’s brother, David. The show makes extensive use of Poe’s writings, including letters to his mother-in-law, Muddy — who was also his aunt — and they provide some of the most arresting moments.
Flashes of dry humor enliven the proceedings.
“We are about 90 miles outside of Philadelphia, so that should put us in at the 11th and Market Station in about 12 hours,” the train conductor says.
“That is extraordinarily fast,” exclaims Poe (Ean Sheehy).
Director Thaddeus Phillips comes up with some ingenious tricks, like propping up a desk so it turns into a door. Alessandra L. Larson, as Poe’s late wife, Virginia, works her way wordlessly through that door and more, smiling beatifically as she does interpretive gymnastics.
This is as contrived as it sounds.
As Poe sinks into paranoia, the show becomes forced and affected, quoting Neil Diamond’s “Done Too Soon” and performing a Spanish version of the gloomy poem “Eldorado” as a flamenco number. By then, “Red-Eye” has gone off the rails — which may be apt for a piece about Poe, but not necessarily fun to watch.