At its core, Scatter is a modern folk horror about grief, inheritance, and the stories families cling to when reality cannot heal old wounds. The structure of the play is a sort of confessional narrative; we drift between present tension and fractured memories. There’s minimal staging, but lots of sound effects and lighting that are really doing a lot of the ‘work’. It is a rollercoaster, moving us from calm to jump-scare.
I’ll mention the trigger warnings now. If you want to see a horror play, you should be someone who is ready to be properly frightened, to jump out of their seat, and to be really shaken. It’s traumatic; it mentions a lot of dark material and will upset those more sensitive very easily. Be warned. But really that’s why the audience packed out the room; we want the thrill and the fear, and it sure does give that. Without spoiling anything, there’s modern tech mixed with old superstition, and each gels with the other brilliantly. A camera part got a scream from one audience member, who nearly leapt into their neighbour’s lap!
There are some really touching moments between the brothers; we also see the pain caused by growing apart and the dread of someone alone in the woods. That’s one of the things that really works here; some of the fear is fear most of us recognise. It’s what makes Scatter more than a simple ‘scary man in the woods’ tale; it’s that feeling of family and familiarity that really gets under the skin.
I expected a bit more blood and gore. And what you get is more Hitchcock than Rob Zombie, and that’s brilliant. The tone is constantly controlled, although there was a bit of a dip around the mid-section where we learn about the lore, but it’s needed to make the ending land as it does. This is for those that are fans of horror and character-led storytelling. This is a lingering chiller that everyone should have a go at.
Runs until 24 August 2025 | Image: Lidia Crisafulli
