Scott Coopwood and Sarah Jiang Photo by Tracy Martin

Terror percolates when unknown and unseen. The heroine, Susan, lives in a Greenwich Village apartment with her husband Sam, who is away on a business trip. Though recently married to the man who is the only person she can depend on, Susan is led to believe that he is already having an affair and that he feels he made a bad decision in marrying her.

When confronted with suspicion and then fear, Susan is particularly imperiled. She cannot see. While her physical injuries from an auto accident 18 months before have otherwise healed, Susan has been left permanently blinded. The adjustment to this "new normal" has challenged and disheartened her. The limitations mean tighter boundaries around what she is able to experience, a greater intensity of relying on other senses, and an intimate familiarity with her abode, where she spends virtually all of her time.

Playwright Frederick Knott set the play at the time of the premiere, 1966, but the Hillbarn Theatre production uses the 2013 Jeffrey Hatcher adaptation, which sets the action in 1944 for reasons that won't be revealed here. The playwright's thin but powerful resume includes Dial M for Murder about a husband who meticulously plans to kill his wife, but he crafted Wait Until Dark very differently. Though each play is claustrophobically limited to a single set, this one is a complex con game in which three professional thieves scheme to extract something valuable from Susan. That asset is an old-fashioned doll that happens to be stuffed with something of enormous value that Sam became holder of through no intention of his own.

At separate times, the cons go to the apartment posing as different people, including a policeman and both a father and son speciously seeking a person who doesn't exist. The confederates hope to acquire the doll through persuasion but will resort to force if necessary.

While Susan tries to accommodate, she becomes suspicious as she detects clues that don't reconcile. She hears the blinds open and close without obvious purpose and the same squeak in the shoes of two different men at different times. Then she feels a man's glove even though they are indoors. Armed with her wits, her detailed knowledge of the functioning of the apartment and where everything should be, and the aid of pre-teen Gloria, who is supposed to be a helper but lies and creates difficulties for Susan, she strategizes how to deal with the threat.

Wait Until Dark is a first-class thriller with great plot devices and suspense. The various conmen are interesting in their own right and are amplified by the playwright's clever use of schemes that elevate the significance of blindness. The repartee with the often snotty Gloria adds a dimension, as it's not clear whether she will come through to help Susan or not.

Despite the threats made clear in Act 1, they don't seem as foreboding as they might. However, Act 2 tantalizes and, at the performance I attended, audience reaction to the unexpected was quite pronounced with laughter in response to knocking out the hallway lights and considerable gasps at the first appearance of the doll. And, of course, the scary climax does provide chills.

Hillbarn's staging appeals under Vickie Rozell's direction. Sarah Phykitt's set perfectly represents all of the features key to the plot. Lighting plays an essential part in the narrative, and Edward Hunter recreates all of the lighting touches necessary. Jeff Mockus's sound adds requisite tension from before dialog even occurs.

However, acting at opening was unconvincing at times, occasionally impairing the suspense but still allowing for an overall worthwhile experience. Hopefully, that area will be improved. Notably, Scott Coopwood does terrify as the pathological Roat who will stop at nothing to retrieve the valuable doll. Congrats also to middle schooler Mia Rapoport, performing admirably as the bratty but charming Gloria in her first professional acting job.

Wait Until Dark runs through November 3, 2024, at Hillbarn Theatre, 1285 E. Hillsdale Blvd., Foster City CA. For tickets and information, please visit www.hillbarntheatre.org.