A Ghost In Your Ear - Hampstead Theatre ★★★

Jamie Armitage is a director, writer and designer whose aim is to shock. His debut play, An Interrogation, has been described as ‘a real pressure cooker’, and his second playwriting venture, A Ghost In Your Ear, upholds his reputation. While it’s less about tension and more about jumpscares, it still stands as a successful horror. In an upcoming interview with our editor here at The Recs, Armitage said he desires to create ‘unsettling’ theatre that results in a shared emotional experience. Collaborating with Ben and Max Ringham, known for their composition and sound design on Prima Facie (West End/Broadway), Blindness (Donmar Warehouse) and more, this creative trio will certainly leave you shaken and stirred.

This two-hander follows an out-of-work, childless actor in a studio, recording an audiobook of a ghost story that loosely explores parental abuse. As the story progresses, the ghost comes alive in your ears and in the studio. The tale has all that you’d expect: a haunted house, the ghost of an old man, a memory box from a relative that ties it all together…

The thrill begins before the show even starts. While taking your seat and donning your headphones, bold red lights wash the raised audience. There is a haunting voice (an uncredited Mark Gatiss) that instructs you on how to prepare for the show and gets the adrenaline running. Although, in a slightly jarring way, the play opens with an awkward conversation between actor George (George Blagden) and sound engineer Sid (Jonathan Livingstone), disrupting any tension that’s been built. However, Livingstone is charming, and he carries this duo. He adds comic relief throughout the show. Their initial duologue skirts around the theme of parent/child relationships that becomes crucial to a later plot twist.

The second half of the play is where things get scary. Once the first jumpscare is out of the way (and a successful one at that), the pace finally picks up. Items fall and swing from the ceiling, a huge figure appears in the reflection of the studio window, and at one point, you’re plunged into complete darkness as the story continues in your ears – the tension peaks here. To aid this, Ben and Max Ringham make an objectively creepy and skilfully designed soundscape. The sounds of bones cracking and glass shattering are just two examples of their best effects. If you’re a technical sound lover, this play will intrigue you. There is also a moment where Anisha Fields’ set cleverly changes to reveal writing on the walls of the studio, linking back to the story and creating an interesting visual. It’s indisputable that Armitage has a good understanding of the horror genre, but there’s a clash between the play’s genre intentions and technical execution.

Despite a riveting second half, the first half is very slow – Armitage’s writing lulls you into a sense of security. Blagden spends the first 30 minutes setting the scene. The sound quality is impressive and attempts to build tension, but it fails to resonate completely. Unfortunately, as Blagden’s limited to a booth with a microphone, it’s not that interesting to watch either. There are small-scale jumpscares and almost tacky SFX: doors creaking, footsteps and howling wind. It makes you wonder why this needs to be staged, and despite the intriguing auditory experience, the actual plot gets a bit lost in the sensation of it all.

The key isolating factor is Anisha Fields’ set design. She ensures a glass wall separates George from the audience, and a wall separates him from Sid. Fields’ design creates a literal barrier. It’s understandable from a technical perspective; to achieve the best sound quality, the actors must be confined. Why not just make it a radio play? Staging horror relies on physical immersion. The production is an auditory feast, but Armitage and Fields have a hard time making it an immersive theatrical experience too.

On paper, it’s a brilliant idea – a horror story with binaural audio. But the production seems held back by the fact that Armitage’s writing objectives clash with his technical objectives. On one hand, the production is incredibly immersive; on the other hand, it feels incredibly distant.

A Ghost In Your Ear is a refreshing combination of literary, dramatic and technical elements. Armitage achieves his desired effects. The show is frightening and can definitely keep you on the edge of your seat – playing with moments of tension and relief with ease. Its downfall is the fact that the intensity of the binaural experience leaves room for error in the staging and resonance of the story.