There aren’t many productions that have the audience screaming within seconds of curtain up. But this is an adaptation of Shirley Jackson’s chilling 1959 novel, which Stephen King deemed “as nearly perfect a haunted-house tale as I have ever read”. It has some seriously spooky shoes to fill.
There is certainly the heart-quickening rumble of threat throughout (even terror, for some – the person in front of me spent the whole performance clutching their neighbour, muttering “No, no, no, I do not like this at all”). This is largely thanks to slick, inventive stagecraft from director Martin Constantine. As a trio of guests arrives at the abandoned Hill House – invited by Dr Montague to investigate its rumoured supernatural affliction – a soundscape of unsettling music, creaky hinges and unidentified thuds accompanies an intensifying stream of jump scares. Bulbs blow, blankets hover, menacing scrawls appear on walls, and furniture slides about unaided – a disquieting suggestion that even the set changes are the work of ghosts.
