Writers: Tassa Deparis, James McDermott, Eloise Pennycott and Aisha Zia
Director: Emily Ling Williams
More… Ghost Stories by Candlelight is – at least on the surface – a perfectly packaged collection of eerie retellings. Marketed as a bitesize experience of the macabre (at a runtime of just 60 minutes) and delivered in a period when our collective desire for spooky stories is at its peak (Halloween, no less), this production has all the hallmarks of a cultural phenomenon: a Halloween tradition, already in its second year of running, with the potential to haunt us for many years to come.
And with the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse as its chosen venue, this premise’s potential is limitless: there is perhaps no better location in all of London to bring ghost stories to life than in the dimly candlelit chamber of this Bankside establishment, sat in the shadow of Shakespeare’s Globe. And yet, somehow, despite all of this, it just doesn’t quite work.
The four unsettling tales in this production are brought to life by Becky Barry and Sharan Phull under the direction of Emily Ling Williams. Barry and Phull put their spirit and soul into their delivery of each of these stories, leaping across the tight Wanamaker stage and convulsing in animalistic screams when the moment calls for it. Here, perhaps, is the first mistake: a lively and animated delivery undermines the very material that it seeks to deliver.
Whilst the promise of candlelight and darkness proffers an eerie and unsettling experience akin to ghost stories by the campfire, the dynamism and energy of its performers disrupt this atmosphere, distracting from the eeriness of the content. It’s a difficult balance to strike, and Barry and Phull are undoubtedly strong storytellers, embodying different characters and tonal shifts with sensitivity and consideration. But the energy of the delivery is at odds with the atmosphere which they set out to establish.
Despite this, a cleverly constructed set and carefully minimalistic soundtrack work well to promote the chilling atmosphere: Andrew Stock and Amber Chapell have worked effectively to design a multi-layered wooden piece from which the two performers can leap and in which they can take shelter, affronted by a wall of wax candles. As one performer tells their tale, the other softly strums on a guitar, vocalises or sets up a steady beat, constructing a (generally) unobtrusive soundtrack (composed by Anna Pool) that pervades the narratives, providing a satisfyingly disconcerting backdrop for these uncanny parables.
Perhaps the production’s second mistake revolves around the independent nature of these stories, which begin to feel more anecdotal than theatrical. Each story is a unique isolated incident, with no narrative thread running through the production as a whole to connect them. Without any connecting force, this production begins to feel stitched together – four stories linked by a common venue and performers, rather than any distinct themes, motifs or overarching narrative. This is no reflection on the individual stories or writers, which, when taken in isolation, generally achieve their purpose. But, by necessity, they must be viewed as a collection, and collectively, they don’t feel necessary. There is a sense that if this production continues next year, the directorial team should put a call out for four stories with a common theme or, alternatively, a master narrative could be established to link our two performers into the stories they tell.
Despite this, there are stronger moments in this production, including the final story (‘Lovers’ Gate, by Eloise Pennycott), an uncomfortable story of two lovers attempting to prove their commitment to one another despite the repercussions. This story benefits from the integration of both performers simultaneously (a feat which other stories try, but to a lesser extent). In the final moments of the story, Phull and Becky Barry extinguish the last few candles from the finite on-stage collection, thrusting the entire audience into semi-darkness. It’s a powerful feat reserved for the play’s grand finale and a genuinely bone-chilling moment in this production. But it also leaves the audience wondering why this card wasn’t played sooner: the candlelit chamber of the Sam Wanamaker is a useful weapon in any producer’s arsenal, and there is a sense that darkening the stage earlier might have lent more gravitas to these stories.
More… Ghost Stories by Candlelight is, overall, a powerful premise which needs a little refinement to ensure effective delivery. There is no doubt that it has all the suits and trappings of a Halloween tradition, fit to endure as a seasonal October favourite. But to do so, it must approach its premise more purposefully, carefully considering its nature as a collection of stories and deploying its masterful setting more successfully.
Reviewed on 1 November 2024
The Reviews Hub Score
A macabre miss
