The Haunting of Hill House at Richmond Theatre and on tour – review

Shirley Jackson’s supernatural thriller, The Haunting of Hill House, was first adapted for the stage in 1964 by F Andrew Leslie. But is now perhaps best known for the recent Netflix adaptation. Martin Constantine’s new touring production goes heavy on the special effects, but fails to create a lasting impression.

Eleanor, Theodora and Luke are three strangers brought together by paranormal investigator Dr Montague to attempt to delve into the secrets contained within the mysterious Hill House. Hugh Crane built the house for his family 80 years ago, but his wife and young daughter were tragically killed in a carriage accident on the day they were moving in. As strange events increase, the group is sucked into the dark past of the house, with tragic consequences.

Why the characters agreed to be part of this set-up remains fairly obscure. There are throwaway mentions of Theodora’s limited psychic abilities, Eleanor’s encounters with paranormal activity (which she contradicts) and Luke’s presence as the safeguard and future heir of the house itself. After the interval, Dr Montague’s wife also turns up, seemingly because she’s a bit bored being home alone.

It seems as though the production team is keen to cram in as many horror clichés as possible: the dour housekeeper, the haunting music box, the rocking horse that moves on its own, along with staring figures suddenly appearing at windows and exploding light bulbs.

Horror and psychological thrillers are notoriously hard to adapt for the stage, but work best when there is less overt presentation. The mind does a brilliant job on its own of creating fear when given tiny hints at what may or may not be unfolding; doors creaking incredibly loudly are not subtle enough to create that deep unease.

Stef Smith’s script is as creaky as those doors. Jackson’s original book deftly skewers the 1950s American ideal of how women should be satisfied with the strictures of the domestic, but this fascinating angle is dealt with in such expositional terms that it loses any real impact. The actors speak in glib phrases and there is little subtlety in the exploration of whether what is happening is real or just in the characters’ imaginations.

The cast do what they can: a wide-eyed Clancy Ryan has the most to work with as strait-laced Eleanor, who is haunted by her own familial past. Sian Howard is suitably monotone as grim housekeeper Mrs Dudley, Sophie Lenglinger is overly coquettish as Theodora and Robin Morrissey attempts to find purpose in the role of Luke.

There are several positives; this is a handsome looking and sounding production. Johnny Edwards’s atonal sound design creates jagged atmosphere and unease, while Duncan McClean’s video design uses cleverly constructed projections to create changes between the house’s internal rooms, as well as whipping up otherworldly events. Ti Green’s set is adaptable, but the scene changes are juddering and often rely on a curtain to shield movement.

The Haunting of Hill House is a missed opportunity to create a truly disturbing and disquieting production. It might be high on style, but it is far too low on substance.