Writer: Danny Robins
Directors: Matthew Dunster and Gabriel Vega Weissman
Sam and Jenny should have it all: they’re blissfully in love in their new ‘doer-upper’ house. They have a baby daughter, Phoebe, whom they both idolise. But as new parents will know only too well, stress and lack of sleep can take their toll.
Sam is a successful scientist and astronomer. He’s been on Sark to enjoy its dark sky status and research his new book. Now back, Sam and Jenny are hosting Sam’s oldest university friend, Lauren, and her latest squeeze, Ben, to a dinner party.
But all is not well. While Sam has been away, strange things have been happening at precisely 2:22 each morning in Phoebe’s room, and Jenny is becoming scared – not helped by Sam’s mildly pompous poo-pooing of anything supernatural. And so Lauren and Ben are persuaded to stay until 2:22 to see once and for all what is going on.
There’s a feeling of the immovable object meeting irresistible force as the evening progresses. Sam is the uber-rational scientist, looking for straightforward explanations to everything, while Ben, an out-and-out believer in ghosts and all things otherworldly, claims to be ‘spiritual’. Jenny becomes increasingly paranoid, while Lauren seems to be more an observer, albeit one who likes a drink and who enjoys dropping occasional spanners in the works.
James Bye brings us Sam. His air of quiet superiority is tangible as he argues against the existence of ghosts. And while Bye shows us Sam’s undoubted love for Jenny, he also brings out his pig-headedness in dealing with the others.
Grant Kilburn’s Ben is a salt-of-the-earth builder, but with hidden depths. While he may not be able to match Sam’s eloquence and assured air, Kilburn ensures that we see Ben’s increasing frustration at not being taken seriously. Natalie Casey brings us the lush Lauren, possibly the character with the most intriguing back story and sense of mischief.
Shvorne Marks’ Jenny is a textbook example of someone becoming increasingly wretched as she tries to cope with events she cannot explain and which leave her increasingly scared and confused.
Writer Danny Robins gradually builds up the tension, notch-by-tiny-notch, as the onstage clock ticks inexorably towards 2:22. The dialogue is realistic even as tensions begin to get on top of the characters. Director Matthew Dunster has a sure hand in the ratcheting up of that tension, even if the jump scares feel like late additions (and generate the usual giggles thereafter). It does feel a touch formulaic, but even so, it’s effective: Ian Dickinson’s eerie sound design does a good deal of heavy lifting here. Anna Fleischle’s house-in-mid-refurbishment set is static but cleverly conceals its tricks in plain sight.
At the dénouement, we’re asked not to tell, and this reviewer will certainly avoid that. Suffice to say that, whether you’re a believer in the supernatural or not, there’s more than enough here to keep even hardened sceptics engaged.
Runs until 23 May 2026 and on tour
