When you picture a quintessential ghost story complete with familiar tropes – an isolated mansion, a vengeful ghost, and some well-timed midnight screams – The Woman in Black inevitably comes to mind. Adapted by Stephen Mallatratt from Susan Hill’s 1983 novel, this notorious tale has long haunted the West End and has finally crept its way to Melbourne.
Starring John Waters (Offspring, Doctor Doctor) and Daniel MacPherson (Neighbours, Land of Bad), The Woman in Black is a play-within-a-play, directed by Robin Herford, who has been involved since its inception in 1987. This adaptation whittles the book’s original character list down to just two. The play opens with an ageing solicitor, Arthur Kipps (Waters), who attempts to recount his story about the eerie Eel Marsh house. Despite his poetic prose, the performance is thankfully saved when a young actor (MacPherson) steps in, urging Kipps to “have sympathy for your audience”. What follows is a layering of past and present, as Kipps’ memories tangle with the actor’s dramatisations in an interplay between reality and re-enactment.
In their dual-role performances, MacPherson and Waters command the stage. MacPherson delivers a cheery performance as The Actor, while Waters brings a charm to Arthur Kipps, deftly balancing humour and playfulness against the play's otherwise sombre tone. MacPherson’s psychological unravelling, while present, is somewhat subdued.
The duo occasionally loses their grip on the audience, partly due to the play’s slow-building tension and extended dialogue. During these quiet moments, coughs from the audience (thanks, flu season) and the creaky floorboards of the Athenaeum Theatre become noticeably distracting. The play hits its stride after the interval, shifting away from its earlier comedic tone and ramping up the horror.
The simplicity of the classic horror tropes employed – choking fog, a rocking chair, and doors groaning on their own – maintains a nail-biting tension. The Woman in Black herself appears sparingly, but her presence is felt throughout as a shadowy, looming threat. However, at one point, she leaps from behind the curtain in a jump scare too clichéd for my liking. A more suspenseful restraint, keeping the ‘monster’ out of sight, would have been more effective. It’s a misstep given that the play’s success lies in its ability to evoke genuine fear through suggestion, rather than explicit horror.
The set design is somewhat underwhelming, with a foreground that’s as versatile as items from a French wardrobe – chairs transform into train seats, and a wicker chest becomes a bed or a horse-drawn carriage. In contrast, the background bolsters the Victorian-gothic aesthetic. Kevin Sleep’s lighting design transforms the stage from daylight to the eerie marshes of early morning. This minimalist approach, a hallmark of the play’s many adaptations, relies on sparse set pieces, strategic lighting and sound design to let the audience’s imaginations fill in the blanks. It’s both a strength and a limitation.
For those familiar with ghost story conventions, the plot twists and jump scares might feel somewhat formulaic. Still, The Woman in Black is a classic for a reason and if you’re after a timeless ghost tale, the kind you can enjoy over a glass of wine and some popcorn, then really, you can’t go wrong.
The Woman in Black is playing at the Athenaeum Theatre until July 6 and tickets are available over here.
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