Bernadette Galbraith

The Woman in Black has been running for the past thirty years, earning its title as ‘the second longest-running non-musical play in West End history’. Although it was first performed in Scarborough, it was in 1989 that the play arrived on the West End and nestled into the modestly-sized Fortune Theatre. The play is based on the haunting novel, written by Susan Hill but drew wide attention from the mainstream market, when it was adapted for the big screen. This of course can be put down to the many Harry Potter fans who flocked to keep a close watch, as Daniel Radcliffe starred in his first leading role since the hugely successful franchise.

 

In essence, the play tells a classic, gothic horror story. While not particularly ambitious in its storyline, the deceptively simple structure still manages to steal an abundance of screeches from the audience. The Woman in Black is a perfect example of what it claims to be and for this reason, should be avoided by the faint-hearted. Perhaps I should have taken my own advice but unfortunately some things have to be learnt the hard way.

 

With that said, there were mixed emotions about seeing The Woman in Black. Diving head first into the unknown, with no comparison to the film or book, some may argue this was the best position to be in but others may have wanted more warning when it came to the numerous jump scares planted throughout. While my nerves felt steady, the fact that the play has built its reputation on being “the most terrifying live theatre experience in the world”, I found comfort in being sat next to a friend.

 

Unlike most trips to the theatre, there was nothing too extravagant here. No extensive cast list or fancy moving sets to help paint a picture. Instead, it’s a rather simple set-up with just two main actors, as well as “the woman”. This meant it was essential to get in touch with your imagination, as hardly any props accompanied them during the performance. Virtually no effort was needed for this though. Illusion and suspense is built through the frequent use of low-lighting, mist and sound effects, managing to effectively transport you into the spine-chilling depths of the story.

 

The structure of the play is unique, in the sense that you are essentially watching a play within a play. Stephen Mallatratt’s stage adaptation welcomes the audience with an elderly lawyer, Arthur Kipps (played by Terence Wilton), reciting lines from what we later discover to be the haunting tales of his past life. He yearns to offload his torturing memories which scorch the inside of his mind. Through telling his close friends and family, he believes it will finally relinquish the burden he’s been carrying for so long. He reaches out to a theatrical actor, played by James Byng, who not only helps to condense his considerably long transcript but also to confront his past through the form of acting.

 

Mallatratt has taken a magician’s simplest card trick and mastered the art of concealing reality. A flash of a light or the swinging of a rocking chair and already people’s minds have started to wander, frantically running away with the fear. Sitting in the surroundings of an old Victorian theatre, the aesthetics lend to the atmospherics of the play. Be wary of the eerie creaks, for any sudden movements in your chair may cause an overwhelming sense of paranoia.