Guy van Egmond
Thriller is a genre of control, holding back information to keep the audience unsettled, guiding exactly what they’re allowed to learn and when. An author can drip-feed information by the word; a filmmaker has total direction over what the audience can hear and see. But a thriller on stage is a whole other ballgame.
There are so many moving parts on a stage that all have to work at once and the audience is annoyingly right there in the room with you. You can’t cut away so that someone can exit stage-right unnoticed, or CGI a ghost in post. So, any show that keeps all these plates spinning in the air, stretching out the suspense until a final crescendo that leaves your heart hammering, is worthy of praise.
Rollicking Entertainment's 2:22 A Ghost Story, by Danny Robins and directed by Peter Feeney, is one of these shows. Though it had its hiccups and counterproductive choices, the design and execution of this production was impressive. If for nothing else, it is worth seeing for the spectacle.
Which began as soon as I walked into Circa One. I had to pause, wondering how I’d found myself in a mid-century do-up on Auckland’s North Shore. The set (designed by Chris Reddington) was a diorama of an open-plan family home, with a living space on the left that became a dining area and a kitchen on the right. There was also a bathroom, an entrance hall and staircase, and an outdoor patio; all of which was visible and used throughout the show. This layout gave tons of dynamic range to what was essentially a one-room play. All the details of the space, from the toys littering the floor to the shelves filled with books and souvenirs, made the space feel lived-in. Even the risotto was real, and I think I saw Jenny (Pamela Sidhu) burn herself a little on the kettle. Maybe I’m just used to black-box productions that beg for your suspension of disbelief, but I was floored by this attention to detail; it felt like a real gift.
One thing that did bug me was that the show felt contextually displaced. This came through the design—a tino rangatiratanga artwork hanging on the wall, The Penguin History of New Zealand in the coffee table—but also through the haka and use of te reo by Sam (Regan Taylor). Why was this bugging me? Because key points in the script were about foxes and Albanian migrant workers. The show was very clearly set in England but weirdly blended with Aotearoa. Gentrification by immigrants was a concept that the script touched on, so maybe these items were all souvenirs from home, but it still didn’t quite gel. I thought it was a missed opportunity to set the play here; the fox cries sounded like pukeko squawks until one of the characters mentioned otherwise.
Nonetheless, 2:22's multi-layered story flowed very well. Not surprising, considering it won an Olivier Award a year after it opened on the West End. The play follows Jenny (Sidhu), a stressed new mother, who has spent a week alone in her new home, hearing disembodied footsteps around her baby’s cot each night. Her rationalist husband Sam (Taylor), just back from an astronomy trip, is instantly sceptical about the existence of a ghost. This conflict between Jenny and Sam traps everyone—including Sam’s best friend Lauren (Serena Cotton), a jaded, hard-drinking psychologist, and her builder boyfriend Ben (Jack Sergent-Shadbolt), who likely voted for Brexit—into staying up, drinking and arguing, until the titular ghostly hour.
In a nutshell, Robins’ narrative was two acts of slow-brewing tension, sprinkled with hindsight clues about the big reveal. It felt its length, but was steadily paced. Each character brought massive amounts of baggage to the dinner party, which bubbled up and clashed deliciously as the night went on: confessions were made, sides were taken, accusations thrown. It touched on ideas of the struggle and regret of being a parent, of waiting too long for a soulmate, of nationalism and conservatism. A handful of lines—like one by Ben accusing Lauren of domestic abuse—did come out of left field. But with only a handful of black-out time-skips, it was impressive how well all the layers of the narrative tied together.
So it was unfortunate that much of this story was poorly delivered, with rote dialogue that was hard to hear clearly. Often, the actors would leave long pauses in between lines that betrayed the pretence of a genuine reaction. Yet other times they’d come in early on lines that had no place being interruptions. A lot of dialogue was delivered with more volume than clarity, a sentiment I heard come up around me multiple times during the intermission. For a show of this calibre at Circa, it was more than could be put down to opening-night jitters.
Though I have a lot of critique for it, I still think 2:22 is worth a watch. It was a unique piece of theatre and what it aimed to do as a thriller, it did really well. I’ve chosen to shy away from too much discussion of the show’s supernatural elements, because so much of its effect relies on the audience being in the dark. What I can say is that the paranormal special effects by Shiloh Dobie could have found place in a much bigger theatre. Being able to see them up close was delightful, like watching a magician at work: “how did they make that happen?!”
Peppered as it is with witty one-liners and some good jumpscares, 2:22 is a very fun show and an impressively-made piece of theatre. Check it out if you’re after some tasty suspense and a satisfying climax that’ll have you picking the story apart for clues in the lobby afterwards. 2:22 A Ghost Story is playing at Circa until October 11th; tickets available here: 2:22 A Ghost Story - Wellington.