Across six disparate horror pieces, the Book of Horror showcase delivered an evening full of chilling surprises, dark wit, and, at times, pure silliness.
Returning to Hope Street after last year’s ‘Haunting on Hope Street’, a shadowy figure called the Curator and his ever-faithful Minion guided the crowd through eerie tales from the Book of Horror. From the stag-do from Hell in Shortbread to the over-the-top homage of Thriller, the night gave us a gluttonous serving of jump scares, surreal twists, and clever dialogue.
Shortbread
Shortbread, co-written and directed by Rachel Louise-Clark and Sab Muthasamy opens the night. The horror-comedy follows a morally dubious trio on a stag weekend in the Scottish Highlands that quickly becomes messier – and scarier – than they expected. What starts as a ghost story quickly becomes reality, as the group stumbles into the very witchy folklore they’d joked about earlier in the evening.
The jump-scares and Harry’s growing paranoia amp up the suspense, but what really takes the biscuit is the fact Harry is donning a dinosaur costume from the waist down for the entire performance. That’s exactly what makes Shortbread work – it’s quirky, silly, and completely uninhibited. Just like its namesake, it’s a moorish treat and a satisfying amuse-bouche.
Zombie Theory
Next up is a weighty short story from writer and director Luke Bennet, Zombie Theory. The show blends philosophy and horror, and explores questions of AI, sentience, and humanity. If that’s not enough to pack into a 45-minute performance it takes on more big concepts – the Turing test, the laws of robotics, and Thomas Nagel’s bat theory to name a few (don’t worry, I had to pay Google a visit too). It probably needed another 45 minutes to really pull out the nuances behind the ideas but it was an intriguing and overall enjoyable watch. The performances feel really authentic, especially the rapport between the doomed couple centred in the story, but Leo Hewiston’s portrayal of the modern-day Frankenstein, and Adam, with his stilted, robotic physicality and precise line delivery, stood out for me.
Tell-Tale Heart
Right before the interval we’re wisely treated to a short in the truest sense of the word, running at less than 10 minutes. Adapted by Victoria Lotus and directed by Luke Bennet, this one-woman performance reimagines Edgar Allan Poe’s classic tale in a TikTok generation. The narrator recounts the murder she’s committed through her phone, with unnervingly intimate detail, while simultaneously trying to convince us of her sanity – much like the #GetReadyWithMe content plaguing the internet nowadays (elder Millennial rant over).
By the time the interval comes around we’ve not only settled into the tone of the night, we’re well acquainted with the main characters of the evening, the Curator and his minion assistant. It’s a bit of bonus theatre in between pieces that does arguably one of the most chilling things for any audience to be confronted with – crowd work. Phil Halfpenny’s Curator masterfully crafts rapport with the obscenely awkward audience, not to mention the BlackAdder/Baldrick-esque back and forth with Luke Bennet’s Minion.
Decay
Interval over with and legs suitably stretched, Decay kicks things off with more Poe-inspired chills. This time we see the story of a man who’s haunted by a mysterious, life-threatening condition that turns out to be caused by the treatments administered by the same nurse who pretends it is the cure to his illness. It thrusts the terrifying concept of when the people we trust most with our care finally turn on us. This one is full-throated macabre. The insidiousness is scalpel-sharp and the blood curdling kill scene is one of the most spine-tingling moments of the night.
Time Enough at Last
At the night’s existential heart is Time Enough at Last, a look at the apocalypse through the eyes of gaming addict, Henry, grappling with the ruins of his world – and his life. After hunkering down in a bank vault during a nuclear attack, Henry confronts the ghosts of his past in what could be a dream, premonition, or cruel reality. It’s a grim, thought-provoking piece that compels the audience to wonder if the life they’re living is ever, actually, real.
Thriller
The night closes on a high note with Thriller, a delightfully absurd tribute to Michael Jackson’s cult-classic music video. This reimagined backstory of the iconic shoot is utter nonsense in the best sense of the word, with Sab Muthasamy delivering a spot-on, satirical take on Michael Jackson, joined by two kids from Scottie Road – because, well, why the hell not? The piece is packed with exaggerated LA stereotypes who shout every line (in my uneducated opinion, with the best accents of the night) and clutch dusty pink cell phones that are bigger than their heads.
Thriller flies by, thanks to its extravagant charm and endearing characters. Muthasamy clearly revels in the role and he has the crowd, myself included, in stitches. All six casts return at the close of the performance for a full ensemble reenactment of the iconic Thriller dance. It’s pure, indulgent nostalgia, and the perfect end to a bumper show.
Final thoughts
Book of Horror volume II doesn’t shy away from being ambitious. The showcase delivers six wildly different horrors in one hefty 3-hour runtime. While each play brings its own energy, the real thrill lies in how the showcase marries modern-day anxieties with witchy folklore, horror, and even some gallows humour. It’s Halloween playfulness at its best.
