Upon first inspection, The Woman in Black does not sound like a particularly scary undertaking. It lacks the sweeping, desolate scale of the 2012 film adaption, and is free of the hyperreal gore that has come to saturate cinemas in recent years. In fact, during the short one hour and 45 minute, two-man production, not a drop of blood nor a single dead body is seen. And yet, despite all that, The Woman in Black proves just as chilling as it was on its opening weekend in London, 27 years ago.

In fact, during the short one hour and 45 minute, two-man production, not a drop of blood nor a single dead body is seen. And yet, despite all that, The Woman in Black proves just as chilling as it was on its opening weekend in London, 27 years ago.

Following elderly Lawyer Arthur Kipps, we are swept up in his attempts to rid himself of the demons of his past “in the telling”, as he reflects on his experience with the help of a young actor and tutor. The tale is framed as merely a rehearsal before the present-day Kipps (David Acton) recites the story to his family. We snap between the reverie that makes up the plot, and the sometimes light, sometimes harrowing moments in between.

Though small, the skill of the cast in undeniable. Acton expertly switches between the halting elderly Kipps and a host of supporting characters, while Spencer executes razor sharp turns between the slowly deteriorating younger Kipps and the always affable man known only as The Actor. Though we don’t spend much time with the ‘out of character’ Kipps and his tutor, the audience comes to crave the moments of levity they bring with them, and so when the final reveal hits it does so with devastating effect.

This skill, coupled with expertly minimal lighting and practical effects that come in repeating motifs, put the audience in a constant and maddening state of unease.

This skill, coupled with expertly minimal lighting and practical effects that come in repeating motifs, put the audience in a constant and maddening state of unease. These are so effective that when the jump scares come they are almost cathartic, making perhaps the only weakness of the show a rather fitting one: though the presence of the woman may be scary, the emptiness she leaves behind is far, far worse.

Rhiannon-Skye Boden

Image courtesy of The West Yorkshire Playhouse