The Enfield Haunting review: Catherine Tate finds warmth in simmering thriller
The Enfield Haunting review and star rating: ★★★
There are fresh reasons to head to the West End for a shock: Stranger Things, down the road from The Enfield Haunting, is a precision-tooled three-hour jump scare, possibly the most stimulation you’ll ever get from the theatre, and now The Enfield Haunting shows how warmth and humanity can be significant drivers in the horror sphere as well as visceral thrills.
The Enfield Haunting is based on a true story about a house in Enfield, London, during the 1970s that claimed to have experienced sustained supernatural activity. Police, journalists, and members of the public went on record saying they saw furniture moving with their own eyes, and there are photos of a girl, Janet, levitating, though dissenting voices claim it was a hoax. Nevertheless it was a big story, and has been the subject of multiple books and fictional adaptations, including a televised miniseries in 2015 with Timothy Spall.
The play roughly follows documented accounts of what happened at the house at the height of the poltergeist activity. Catherine Tate plays mum Peggy, who has two daughters, Janet and Margaret, imagined by Ella Schrey-Yeats and Grace Molony. David Threlfall plays paranormal investigator Maurice.
It’s not a jump-out-of-your-seat shockfest, but then again Paul Unwin, writer of The Enfield Haunting as well as Casualty and Shameless, didn’t want that. He called his adaptation a “psychological ghost story. A ghost story for now.” Part of the reframing of the genre means the jumps are more sophisticated, often feeling unnerving and like slow burns rather than hugely shocking.
In part, his approach works: there is genuine tenseness achieved through good use of light and movement, and we’re often shown just enough so that we’re in the dark about what’s going on but privy to a little bit more than the characters. That said, the frights could have been amped up slightly, certainly for the finale, one of a handful of moments where the scares just don’t fly.
The most interesting thing about The Enfield Haunting, and what Unwin is referring to with his reference to a modern ghost tale, is that he cleverly extracts a human story. Never mind about the ghost, this is a gripping enough piece about a family on the brink. Catherine Tate wears Peggy’s working class struggles like a glove, finding depth in her portrayal of a woman not only dealing with a poltergeist but a load of random men, some intellectual, some exhausting, who just will not get out of her house. Her status has taught her to smile and carry on at all costs, and it’s gripping to watch her unravel.
The whole cast give dynamic performances, bringing Unwin’s text together as an intriguing prospect, although it’s a shame the ending doesn’t work; it’s a perplexing letdown which not so much runs out of steam as just evaporates on the spot, which feels needless given the play is only an hour and fifteen minutes and could have gone on longer.
The Enfield Haunting plays at the Ambassador’s Theatre until 2 March
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