JADAR

★★★★☆

After seven seasons on the West End and numerous global productions, 2:22 A Ghost Story is back on its second UK tour. Since its debut in 2021, 2:22 has become renowned for casting a wide array of celebrities, from singers Lily Allen and Cher, to Harry Potter actor Tom Felton and EastEnders’ Jake Wood. The show may rely on big names, but its story holds up surprisingly well; the premise alone hooking the audience in with fascinating tales, engaging debates and an underlying threat as the clock ticks down.

The play follows new mother Jenny (Stacey Dooley) as she tries to convince her sceptical scientifically-minded husband Sam (Kevin Clifton) that their house might be haunted after hearing strange noises and feeling a dark presence every night at 2:22. Their argument extends into their dinner with Sam’s old friend, Lauren (Shvorne Marks), and her new “spiritualist” boyfriend, Ben (Grant Kilburn), debating whether ghosts truly exist, concluding they’ll stay to find out.

Writer Danny Robbins, creator of the Uncanny and The Battersea Poltergeist podcasts, has a long fascination with the supernatural which translates perfectly to the stage. Throughout the night, the couples are constantly questioning the possibility of the paranormal. Sam’s ego-fuelled “quiz” drinking game asks what are ghosts? How can they exist? Why aren’t their more of them, in hospitals for example? His bitter rationalism and narcissistic remarks are foiled by Jenny’s open-minded and sentimental reasonings… perhaps ghosts are like the homeless seeking shelter, or fractured souls creeping through the veil between life and death… memories playing out from afar like the comforting light from long-dead stars?

It toes the line between scepticism and belief, science and faith. In the same way, 2:22 defies its own genre boundaries, a pseudo-horror of sorts. A tense analysis of the human psyche mixed with a myriad of comedic fake-outs horror farces, yet still gripping us with the possibility of a good old spooky haunting. Its less of a horror despite its tropes, leaning into the drama category, but it works surprisingly well.

The majority of the show revolves around these conversations, broken up by Sam’s crappy ego, group binge-drinking, strange teddy-related occurrences, and chilling ghost stories. The tension is palpable as the clock ticks down despite there still being no physical proof of Jenny’s ghost. Breaking up the conversations are barking foxes and (slightly cheap but admittedly funny) scream jumpscares between scenes as the set turns pitch black, percussive music bellows, and a strobing red light borders the seams.

Ian Dickinson’s combination of silence and eerie strings in different segments heighten the looming sense of dread.

Anna Fleischle’s set is bursting with character. The stripped back retro wallpaper, cracked plaster, and exposed brickwork highlighting the house’s past, harkening back to its previous occupants, while Sam’s décor feels modern and sleek – his attempt to make the house their own (to Ben an example of yet another posh family destroying the character of old houses). Each corner feels like it could hide a secret or be used in some horrifying stunt… a looming feeling in which the show’s tension thrives.

Dimly lit patio doors, dark corners, and open doorways constantly draw your attention as you wait for a glimpse of something that may or may not be real. The audiences are in the dark as much as the couples are.

Lucy Carter’s lighting moves from homely to eerie with ease, giving the safe suburban house a secretive and ominous feel.

Chris Fisher’s illusions really flourished in the séance scene (arguably the biggest spook of the show). The unnerving effect of the moving table, the sheer horror in Dooley’s eyes, and the simple horror of the backdrop of flickering candles… it was spine-chilling to say the least.

Another scare was a simple but chilling call-back using an Alexa device, or hushed speaking through the baby monitor. Perhaps, a few more unexplainable events or more room for creepy illusions could elevate fear and tension further.

Nevertheless, the ending delivers an effective and jaw-dropping twist, and one that keen-eyed audience members may be able to guess from the trail of breadcrumbs.

Like a magician, Robbins’ draws our attention with the squabbles, secrets, gags and creepy occurrences, distracting us from seeing the bigger picture. It perhaps feels a little rushed after waiting so long, and arguably doesn’t deliver the horror aspect but it’s certainly a gut-wrench of an ending. and I appreciate the way it leaves audiences with room to digest.

Performance wise, the cast were all phenomenal. Kevin Clifton plays on Sam’s more frustrating qualities, playing on the insecurities of working-class spiritualist Ben and undermining Jenny’s ghost concerns as the paranoid daydreams of an over-active mind (a classic horror movie husband trope). Stacey Dooley was exceptional as Lauren, effortlessly flittering between convincingly distressed/desperate mother, ignored housewife, and Sam’s intellectual equal, sharply battling his debates with insightful theories. Their real-life chemistry translates well here: a loving relationship besmirched by personality clashes and stubbornness.

Clifton’s cocky bravado bounces perfectly against Grant Kilburn’s Ben, with his contrastingly strong belief in the spiritual. Kilburn’s joviality and witty repartee livened up some of the longer scenes of dialogue. His mockery of Sam’s irritating mannerisms and know-it-all personality are a breath of fresh air, as is his kindness to Jenny. Shvorne Marks plays Lauren with a bubbly, carefree attitude, but slowly peeling away the character’s façade. Like an Agatha Christie novel, each character is drenched is shrouded with secrets.

Ultimately, 2:22 A Ghost Story is an enticingly dark drama brimming with mystery and tension that you could cut with a knife. While I’d personally love a touch more action, its bare-boned dramatic take on the horror genre was refreshing, as were the moments of comedy to relieve the tension and wet the appetites of the jumpscare lovers out there. Robbins’ philosophically provocative script (and unexpected ending), the incredible atmosphere, and the stellar cast make for a ghoulishly good time.