An Alternate Reality: Mars Attacks Grover's Mill...

On October 30, 1938, Orson Welles, abetted by scriptwriter Howard Koch and a group of talented "Mercury Theatre On the Air" performers, offered H.G. Wells’ “The War of the Worlds” to what became a panic-stricken, radio audience.

The live, hour-long adaptation was part of the Welles-hosted, CBS anthology series and an intended, Halloween treat. However, some have disputed Welles' cause, claiming that he and his troupe wished to unhinge listeners for publicity. (The weekly program was no ratings winner.) Welles had hell to pay the next day from an incensed public. Whatever the show's intent, this particular “War of the Worlds” made many believe a veritable Martian vanguard had descended upon Earth, per its mock news reports and military-styled snippets.

In Koch's script, the initial cylinder crashes in Grover’s Mill (West Windsor), NJ, just a hop and a skip from where I reside. Listening to the recorded broadcast, as I did each Halloween as a boy, I was proud that my home, Trenton (and surrounding Mercer County) was referenced among events. This was, indeed, “War of the Worlds” refashioned for me, and to this day, I absorb the broadcast with unceasing, sentimental adoration. (Whenever I hear the "Mercury Theatre" theme music, Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat, my mind turns to "War of the Worlds". That's how much the adaptation has impacted me.)

Throughout the presentation, Welles performs the periodic role of Princeton’s Professor Richard Pierson, who stands in lieu of the novel's journalist; in the play’s second half, Pierson meets a crass counterpart to the novel’s artilleryman, played by Carl Frank. William Alland, who went on to produce "The Creature from the Black Lagoon", "It Came from Outer Space" and "This Island Earth", voiced the Meridian Room announcer and an artillery gunner. 

Perhaps the most convincing vocalization comes from Frank Readick (the first actor to play the Shadow), who portrays on-the-spot reporter Carl Phillips. Readick based Phillips' tonality after Herbert Morrison, who covered the Hindenburg disaster at Lakehurst, NJ the year prior. Readick's empathetic fervor conveyed that something monstrous was, indeed, transpiring, even if its outlandish content should have signaled the contrary. 

At the time of the broadcast, it was common for listeners to turn their dials to other stations, if a commercial or uninteresting interlude occurred. Some speculate that when listeners switched from the popular "Edgar Bergen-Charlie McCarthy Show", the "Mercury Theatre" utterances didn't sound like a standard program, but rather a cobbled series of urgent transmissions, and from that point, people stay tuned. Friends and family phoning one another about the "news interruptions" may have further contributed to the frenzy. (By the halfway mark, CBS confirmed that the presentation was, in fact, a "Mercury Theatre" adaptation of Well's novel, leaving the script to phase to a traditional, dramatic format for the rest of the story.)

Prior to the announcement, CBS had received an avalanche of calls demanding verification or dismissal of the simulated accounts. Many were outraged that they had been fooled. Broadcast regulations were modified in the program's wake to prevent any such recurrence. 

Some mass-media historians claim that reports exaggerated the program's resulting hysteria for any number of hypothetical reasons. Perhaps so, but the play's legendary influence continues to grow, in spite of (and perhaps because of) the skeptics. In 1988, a monument was erected in Grover's Mill to commemorate the program's 50th anniversary and its cultural repercussions.  

The play's specialized structure (and the air of altered reality it invokes) makes the "Mercury Theatre" version of "War of the Worlds" one of the novel's most revered. It still stands as one of Welles' greatest achievements, on a par with "Citizen Kane". 

Give this classic a listen today at ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzC3Fg_rRJM.  You're certain to succumb to its chilling ambiance, though as dear Orson reminds us at program's end: There's no need to panic..."It's Halloween."