They say they are here “to tell old and forgotten stories for modern audiences”, and the Bronze Head Theatre went above and beyond with their poignant take on the horror genre this Halloween night.
Immersed in the candlelit atmosphere of a frigid Holy Trinity Church, the five young members of this new theatre company treated the audience to three charming yet chilling horror stories. Each one was adapted from works featuring the same sorts of stories, characters, and tropes you’ve heard before, but what undercut Old Haunts was a horrifically disconcerting sense of isolation. There were ghosts and werewolves, doomed souls and deaths, but it was the production’s attention to the psychological horror of lost loves (both romantic and familial) that really made a lasting impact. Adaptor and director Tom Straszewski clearly went to lengths to pick apart his source material, and it paid off. With so draining an atmosphere somehow still filled with nostalgia for the simpler stories of one’s youth, the night was an intense examination of the alarming anxiety and humanity of these wretched characters.
The standout performance was without doubt given by Mark Burghagen. Although the cast had a reasonably impressive chemistry, and all delivered their lines passionately enough, it was he who most disturbingly thrust forth Old Haunts’ tragic take on these old stories. Erika Graham’s simple score similarly worked well alongside the low-budget production, and although it was often subtle, it is worth saying that without her influence, so gruelling an atmosphere would not have been achieved.
One of the play’s most enjoyable moments came about two thirds in when the cast beckoned the audience to stand up and move to another side of the church. The script had formerly referenced an audience, but this interaction had a phenomenally engrossing impact for the final of the three tales. Locked in by our new, uncomfortable seats, we were absorbed until the play’s final moments. It could have been a bit gimmicky, but there was something quite touching and sincere in its humble attempts to just tell some upsetting stories.
Of course, not everything about Old Haunts was spectacularly ‘creepy’. Some clunky stage directions and overacting occasionally broke up what was an otherwise fluid and purposeful experience. Even more was the awkwardly forced lyrical music that popped up a bit too frequently; some scenes could have benefited from a moment or two of silence. But it was these blemishes that made the production a little bit more self-aware, and at the same time a little bit more human. In many ways, then, it all suited the short-lived play running for a little under an hour. It was no epic version of a Shakespeare classic, but an earnest attempt at getting the audience to think a little more carefully about the tales that so often pop up around the end of October.
The night was hardly terrifying in any traditional way, but its alternative engagement with a handful of strange stories came surprisingly close to exposing some of the more dreadful parts of human suffering. It didn’t try to be any more than it was, and was compelling in doing so. A probing, evocative performance, Old Haunts will hopefully draw attention to the talented individuals behind it in time to come.