Review: 2:22 - A GHOST STORY, Noel Coward Theatre

This is a spoiler-free review.

"Perception is a choice!" Sam concludes in his pedantic and condescending tirade about ghosts and "the unexplainable". Frustratingly, the remarks of such an insolent, smart, and snobbish man keep ringing true to the logical crowd. It's quite difficult to stage a properly frightening show in a theatre, and that's perhaps the reason why Danny Robins's brand new play 2:22 - A Ghost Story is penned as a "supernatural thriller" rather than any other horror-related genre.

In truth, it's a good old ghost story (it says it on the tin, after all) with a glorious final spook that puts everything into perspective. Directed by Matthew Dunster, Theatreland's latest spine-tingling offering not only turns out to be a fantastic piece of writing, but it also marks two West End debuts - Lily Allen and Julia Chan - and a dazzling return to the stage for Hadley Fraser (who was last set to open the much-anticipated and desired transfer of Josie Rourke's City of Angels at the Garrick right when theatres shut their doors in 2020) and ex-Eastenders womaniser Jake Wood.

The set-up for Robins's piece is simple: Jenny, Sam, and their baby have just moved into the home they're refurbishing after it belonged to an elderly lady and their friend Lauren and her new partner Ben are their first guests. Jenny can't shake the feeling there's something eerie in the house that's recently been making its presence known precisely at 2:22 in the baby's room. Can Sam, the only skeptic at the dinner party, convince the others that there's no such thing as ghosts?

Fraser is arrogant, patronising, presumptuous astronomer Sam with a superiority complex whose sarcasm and cynicism don't make him any friends in the room - yet, his charisma and confidence warm the audience up to him. His wife, Allen, is a tender and subdued woman who thinks he hung the moon. At the other end of the table we find Chan's Lauren, Sam's old school chum whose spirit and beliefs align with his more than they do with her partner, a working-class Essex contractor with cantankerous tendencies played by Wood.

Allen's introduction to the stage is radiant. While she's a bit breathy and shouty here and there probably due to her not being a pro yet in vocal projection, it turns out she's a natural at treading the boards. While Jenny's background isn't truly explored, we learn that she met Sam in their "year of doing good" in a refugee camp, lining her upbringing with Sam's upper-class environment.

Chan and Wood are tremendous as the opposing couple. Their relationship acts as a buffer for Sam and Jenny's, with Wood delivering a hilarious yet subtle performance. The two men are especially fascinating in their dissonance and exchanges, with Sam always turning the situation into a contest (which he knows he can easily win).

The set design is as ominous as the premise. Anna Fleischle builds a cozy living room with half-painted walls, damp on the ceiling, and a wallpapered wall that's on the brink of being stripped. The state of the refurbishment clashes with the sleek extension that hosts the kitchen, creating a visual dynamic that speaks volumes about the subtext of the play.

It would be a disservice to Robins's writing to reduce 2:22 to a ghost story, as it features different shades of class commentary, philosophy, and spirituality. But it's still spooky. By the end, all the pieces Robins spread in the text and Dunster materialises at the Noël Coward come together for the bigger picture. Everything explainable is explained, and it's one of those shows that beg to be seen another time - even just for the smug feeling of knowing what happens when the rest of the crowd don't.

While it's remarkably smart and brilliant in its arguments, the jumpscares are delicious and turn it into a 2-hour-long back-and-forth from the back of your seat to the edge again and again. Robins's script is snappy and delectable, he lulls the viewer into a sense of trust, comfort, and pure entertainment before ripping it apart screaming bloody murder. It's also surprisingly funny, with plenty of quips, one-liners, and real ha-ha moments. 2:22 has everything the genre demands: the build-up is perfect and the finale is just so wonderfully crafted. It's undoubtedly a five-ghoul play.

2:22 - A Ghost Story runs at the Noël Coward Theatre until 16 October.

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