Between November of 1966 and December of 1967 hundreds of strange things were witnessed in, and around, the town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. Some witnessed a large bird, some witnessed UFOs, some witnessed a tall man, some witnessed aliens, and some witnessed something unable to be described – unable to be explained. The small town of Point Pleasant became a nationwide attraction during these thirteen months. The small town of Point Pleasant became a large town, in terms of population. Hordes of journalists, reporters, strangers, curious folks, cryptozoologists, et al, invaded into this town to share in all the witnessing.
However, what one witnessed depended on the one who witnessed. There wasn’t just one mystery appearing in this town; there were endless mysteries. Although hundreds of variegated sightings took place, there still were many who doubted these claims – who doubted those that witnessed something. The only proof that really exists of all these sightings are the statements of these witnesses that exist in handwriting, in print, on film, and by word-of-mouth. There are many extant statements. What does it take to believe in something? Or someone? What exactly is proof? If words are not proof then what is? And what does it take to believe in something when you, yourself, see something unbelievable? Does that belief happen immediately? If we see something unbelievable, doesn’t the “seeing” of it make it, in fact, believeable? These are all questions that circle, constantly, around Wild, Wonderful.
This is a play – a play for the stage. In some ways it is a docu-drama, a play utterly infused with research – some of which is verbatim. In some ways it is an adaptation of my own trip to Point Pleasant, West Virginia, during the summer of 2019. In some ways it is a fiction, and based on nothing except the annals of my imagination. This play conflates these various aspects of source material.
There are definitely pieces I can clearly pinpoint as verbatim research: Woodrow’s interview, the statement Linda gives to Officer during her first scene in the play, the reports we hear from the Television, the Radio, and the News Reporter. The Unsolved Mysteries episode, at the beginning of Part III, is also (mostly) verbatim; however, some creative licenses were taken while transcribing it and editing it into this play.
The pieces of the play that are in conversation with research are: the moments with Child and Agar, the moments with Child and Father, and the scene with Child and Drunk. These are loose adaptations of moments in The Silver Bridge, a novel by Gray Barker. I’ve also written Gray Barker into this play. He’s a character in Part I.
The pieces of the play that are adaptations of my own trip to Point Pleasant mostly occur in Part II. The purely fabricated elements of the play are present almost on every page. Pure fiction occurs in all three parts of the play.
This is a play about a history that’s often been sensationalized. A history that’s often been seen as folderol or seen as the product of drug-induced townspeople. A history that’s been quickly, and lazily, labeled “weird” or “bizarre” or “wacky” – et cetera.
This play is deeply serious, deeply unnerving – and, I hope, at times, deeply funny and deeply absurd. I believe in all the people in Point Pleasant that witnessed strange figures and events during these thirteen months. This play is something I hope is unable to be labeled easily. This play, like the witnessing that occurred in Point Pleasant, is deeply layered and profoundly enigmatic. This play, like Point Pleasant, is a mystery that, perhaps, has endless answers – endless explanations. The mysteries in the play, like the mysteries of this history, will have vastly different effects and create vastly different meanings from one person to the next. The mysteries can – and, I think, should – forever stay mysterious. Let the mysteries fuel you.
