Interplayers’ ‘Woman In Black’ Delivers Scares

“The Woman in Black” Saturday, March 7, Interplayers Ensemble

The best way to explain the impact of “The Woman in Black,” an Edwardian ghost story, is to describe a few physical sensations.

The prickling of the hair on the neck.

The chill running down the spine, and through the shoulders and arms, as well.

The sudden start, causing you to clutch and grab at the person next to you (preferably, a person you know well).

I cannot speak for anyone else, but I experienced all of these sensations at Interplayers’ absolutely chilling production of London’s longest-running ghost story ever. Not everyone will experience quite this adrenalin rush; I tend to be what you might call an easy scare. However, these visceral reactions certainly must be some kind of physical verification that “The Woman in Black” achieved one goal: to scare the dickens out of people.

This cleverly directed, superbly acted ghost story is a testament to the power of imagination. The setting is simply a bare stage, with some chairs and a trunk. Yet, somehow, this becomes a gloomy, mist-beshrouded mansion on a windswept stretch of English marsh. We see horses, dogs, quicksand, trains, and frightened little villages - yet we never see them. For those who can suspend their disbelief and immerse themselves in their imaginations, it is every bit as real as a $200 million cruise ship in a movie.

Don’t expect this suspension of disbelief to happen right away. The first 10 or 15 minutes is talky and full of exposition as the story is laid out: A Londoner named Arthur Kipps is attempting to exorcise the most frightening experience of his life - the appearance of a ghostly “woman in black” - by hiring an actor to help him recreate it. They speak in the language of Edwardian England, which is to say, a bit stiffly and formally. The dialogue might be described as Sherlock Holmesian.

A full evening of this might have been more stultifying than terrifying. However, soon the magic begins to work, thanks to director Michael Weaver, and two outstanding actors, Richard R. Hamblin as Kipps and Tim McMurray as The Actor.

For one thing, Weaver makes brilliant use of sound effects. We hear crowded London streets, we hear the clip-clop of pony and trap, and we hear the ominous ticking of clocks. Later, as the story delves deeper into its ghostly mysteries, we hear unexplained creakings, thumpings, and even a blood-curdling scream (precipitating the above seatmate clutching incident). In some ways, this production had the power of a great old radio story.

Even more chilling are the sudden appearances of the woman in black. You never know where, or when, she will show up. This makes the show’s numerous blackouts to be miniacts of terrorism. After the woman appeared in one spot quite near my seat, I kept glancing nervously over during every blackout, afraid she was coming back.

The biggest share of credit goes to Hamblin and McMurray, who carry the entire play. Both have an outstanding grasp of language and diction. Both bring intelligence and intensity to their performances. And both made us truly believe we were with them in that gloomy mansion.

Hamblin reminded me of Stephen Fry (Jeeves on PBS) in his ability to play a stuffy Englishman. Yet Hamblin is also required to play numerous other roles - an ancient cart-man and a terrified functionary, among others. His ability to switch skins was crucial to our ability to suspend incredulity.

McMurray reminded me of a young Ralph Fiennes, with his intense gaze and his emotional sensitivity. McMurray, too, switches skins, being at times the actor and at times the young Kipps as he experiences the most terrifying days of his life inside that musty, brooding old mansion. McMurray’s quicksand scene, in which he tries to rescue a dog, is a draining experience for both actor and audience.

The story itself, adapted by Stephen Malatratt from a novel by Susan Hill, is nothing more nor less than a satisfying ghost story of the Victorian variety. For those who wonder if live theater can truly be scary, I submit that there are few things more frightening than a theater in total darkness.

Except for, possibly, a woman in black.

, DataTimes MEMO: “The Woman in Black” continues through March 28 at the Interplayers Ensemble. Call 455-PLAY for reservations.