Horror

Ghost Stories

26/03/25

Festival Theatre, Edinburgh

What a strange thing, the passing of time. Taking my seat in the Festival Theatre, I can’t help being transported back to thirteen years ago, when Susan and I travelled from Manchester to London, with the express purpose of catching Ghost Stories as it neared the end of its first run. We’d heard great things about the show, created by Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman – and we were not disappointed.

Fast-forward to 2018 and now we’re in the cinema, watching the big-screen adaptation of the story, which has been skilfully retooled for a different medium, but still delivers a feast of creepy moments and heart-stopping jump-scares. 

And now, here’s the original production, out on tour and taking its twisty-turny narrative to a series of new locations. Over the intervening years, the show’s creators have somehow managed to compel audiences not to reveal too much about what actually happens in that intense hour-and-a-half and they continue to implore us to keep its secrets. Of course, this makes a reviewer’s job harder, but hey, those are the breaks. 

Suffice to say that Ghost Stories is a deliciously old-fashioned portmanteau, which incorporates three quite dissimilar stories and links them all together with an intriguing framing device. We are greeted by Professor Goodman (Dan Tetsell), a staunch disbeliever in all things supernatural, but he does have some puzzling cases to share with us. There’s the one about the chatty, chirpy nightwatchman, Tony Matthews (David Cardy), who has a particularly troubling evening at work; the cautionary tale of nervy Simon Rifkind  (Lucas Albion), who really should never have been put behind the steering wheel of an automobile; and let’s not forget the recollections of snarky businessman, Mike Priddle (Clive Mantle), who has a sobering memory to recount for anyone thinking of becoming a parent…

And that is about as much as I’m willing to share, other than to say that if you’ve never seen Ghost Stories in the theatre, this is your chance to rectify that situation. And if you have seen it, go back and admire the details. You may even spot the clues that have been artfully scattered throughout. You’ll relish Jon Bauser’s extraordinary set, forever opening up like a puzzle box to reveal its hidden depths. James Farncombe’s lighting design amps up the intense atmosphere of dread, which is also amplified by Nick Manning’s nerve-shredding sound design. Scott Penrose’s special effects will have you flinching in your seat at several key moments, while director Sean Holmes brings all the elements together and ties them up with a great big blood-curdling bow.

And if you’re of a nervous disposition, then my advice is to go along and see it anyway, because you’ll be so relieved to step out of the theatre to find that the real world is a whole lot less scary…

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Presence

26/01/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Steven Soderbergh’s latest film is Presence, a taut little ghost story told with absolute assurance. Striking a perfect balance between genre tropes and a fresh approach, this is an intelligent and entertaining piece of work, well worth eighty-five minutes of anybody’s time.

Rebekah (Lucy Liu) is immensely proud of her son, Tyler (Eddy Maday), and determined to maximise his chances of a swimming scholarship, even if it means relocating to a different school district. Her husband, Chris (Chris Sullivan), is unconvinced. After all, it’s only a couple of months since Tyler’s younger sister, Chloe (Callina Liang), lost her best friend to a drug overdose. How will she cope with the upheaval?

But Rebekah is an unstoppable force and so the family duly moves. But Chloe becomes aware that there’s a presence in the new house. Someone – or something – is watching her. Did something bad once happen here?

So far, so predictable – but don’t be fooled. Written by David Koepp, this is a highly original tale with twists and turns aplenty. Its simple surface belies its depths: I find myself thinking about it for hours afterwards, recalling hints and clues that were hiding in plain sight.

Soderbergh’s cinematography sets a claustrophobic tone, as we witness everything from the point of view of the titular presence, peering out from behind the shadows, apparently unable to leave the house. Time sputters forward jerkily: the rooms are empty, then filled with furniture; the walls change colour; trinkets appear; messes are made. The family dynamics are slowly revealed: the cracks in Chris and Rebekah’s marriage; Chloe’s longing for her mom’s attention; the chasm separating Chloe from her jockish brother. Whatever the presence is, it doesn’t seem to want to cause her harm…

Liang might be a relative newcomer, but she more than holds her own in the lead role, creating a compelling and engaging character for the audience to root for. Liu and Sullivan convince as a disaffected couple, while Maday and West Mulholland (as Tyler’s team-mate, Ryan), provide the boyish bantz.

It would be criminal to reveal more here, and so I won’t. Suffice to say that this is a welcome addition to the ghost story cannon. And I look forward to seeing what else the prolific Soderbergh has to offer, in next month’s highly anticipated Black Bag.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Bird Box

Bird Box

06/01/19

I’m not sure what to make of Netflix’s latest hit, Bird Box. On the one hand, it’s a decent little sensory-deprivation horror movie (is that a genre now?), nicely acted and directed, and it certainly takes me along for the ride. But on the other hand… well, there’s some pretty dodgy subtext here, and I’m not sure I want to overlook this stuff.

Sandra Bullock is Malorie, single and pregnant, ambivalent about impending motherhood. She wisecracks her way through her maternity appointments and avoids discussing crucial issues such as where a baby might be accommodated in her tiny artist’s studio. Of course she’s an artist: she has to work in a visual medium to underline the awfulness of what comes next.

Not that her art is ever mentioned again, once the mysterious beings arrive and begin their decimation of the human race. The conceit here is that ‘they’ can only get you if you look at them, but if you even catch a glimpse they’ll drive you to kill yourself. I like that director Susanne Bier never lets us see them ourselves, that their awfulness is left to our imaginations. But for the characters holed up in Greg (BD Wong)’s house, where they’ve fled in terror from the first attack, the beings are an ever-present threat, and survival is almost impossible.

There’s a great cast, featuring John Malkovich and Jacki Weaver, Sarah Paulson and Tom Hollander. Trevante Rhodes is Tom, and he’s a charming, likeable leading man. It’s always nice to see Parminder Nagra on screen, albeit this time in a minor role, as Malorie’s obstetrician. And the tension is palpable, even though the time-hopping structure means that we know from the beginning that Bullock ends up a lone adult, looking after two small kids, and pitting her wits against this unknown enemy.

But…

*MINOR SPOILER ALERT*

… there’s the heavy-handed extended metaphor about motherhood to deal with: the implication that Malorie has to endure all this heartbreak and struggle in order to accept her true calling as a mother; that her earlier consideration of adoption for her baby could never really have been the right answer.

And the depiction of people with mental health issues is problematic too. ‘They’ (because they’re different from ‘us,’ right?) don’t commit suicide when they see the beings; they become converts to the beings’ cause, committed missionaries, cajoling and persuading as many people as possible to take off their blindfolds and see the light. It’s unsettling, actually, to see such a toe-curling division drawn between the sane and the insane; I thought we understood things better than that now.

So, on the surface, a fun way to pass an evening. But it doesn’t really bear much scrutiny. If you really want to see something in this ‘genre,’ A Quiet Place is far superior.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield