Minimalist, masterful, and terrifying. The Woman in Black reminds you why live theatre can still scare the life out of you.
The Woman in Black at the Glasgow Theatre Royal, lived up to its reputation as one of the most effective pieces of theatre I’ve experienced in a long time. Sparse, clever, and deeply unsettling, it proves that you don’t need elaborate tricks to truly frighten an audience, just imagination, precision, and trust in the power of storytelling.
The play follows Arthur Kipps, played by the wonderful John Mackay, a man haunted by a traumatic experience from his past. Seeking relief, he hires a young actor, Daniel Burke, to help him recount his story in the hope that sharing it will finally bring him peace. What begins as a seemingly simple rehearsal slowly and horrifyingly transforms into something far more real, for both the characters and the audience.
John Mackay gives a compelling and grounded performance as Mr Kipps. His portrayal captures the emotional weight of a man desperate to rid himself of painful memories, and his gradual unravelling feels authentic and earned. Mackay handles the psychological intensity of the role with impressive restraint, allowing the fear to creep in quietly rather than forcing it upon us.
Daniel Burke, as The Actor, provides a perfect counterbalance. Initially confident, almost dismissive, he brings a lightness and theatrical bravado that helps ease the audience in (which only makes his eventual descent into terror more effective). The chemistry between Mackay and Burke is crucial to the success of the production, and here it works beautifully, driving both the narrative and the tension forward.
Director Robin Herford’s vision remains masterfully simple. The minimalist approach places complete trust in the performers and the audience’s imagination, something that modern theatre doesn’t always dare to do. Scenes shift seamlessly, often in front of our eyes, and the lack of excess means we are constantly alert- scanning shadows, listening for sounds, and filling in the gaps ourselves. In a horror story, this is exactly where you want the audience to be.
Michael Holt’s set design is deceptively clever. At first glance, it feels almost bare, but it proves endlessly adaptable, transforming from rehearsal space to eerie landscapes with subtle changes. This flexibility enhances the feeling that reality is slipping, that the boundaries between performance and memory are dissolving.
Kevin Sleep’s lighting deserves special mention. It plays a vital role in building the atmosphere, often revealing just enough, and no more. Darkness becomes a character in its own right, and the careful use of light ensures that when something does appear, it hits with maximum impact. The audience reactions around me included shrieks, sharp intakes of breath, and moments of stunned silence, are all a testament to how effective this is.
What makes The Woman in Black so powerful is its confidence. It doesn’t rely on spectacle or gore. Instead, it understands that fear comes from anticipation, from what we think we see,
and from the spaces left unfilled. As a result, the play lingers long after the curtain falls — not just in memory, but in feeling.
Seeing this production at the Glasgow Theatre Royal felt like the perfect setting for such an intimate and unsettling experience. It’s a reminder of what theatre can do when it strips back to its essentials and fully commits to its craft.
In short, The Woman in Black is tense, intelligent, and deeply effective. I loved it and I didn’t feel entirely comfortable walking home afterwards, which I think is the highest compliment I can give a ghost story.