There’s something deliciously appropriate about encountering Edgar in the Red Room late in the evening, when the edges of reality already feel a little soft. This theatrical experiment doesn’t attempt to solve the mystery of Edgar Allan Poe’s death so much as inhabit it, drawing us into a liminal space between dream, memory and madness. What emerges is not biography but atmosphere – a hallucinatory love letter to a writer whose work thrived in the shadows.
Created and directed by Matt Chiorini and Greg Giovanini, the piece unfolds as “the story Poe never wrote”, stitching together fragments of his poems and tales into a surreal final nightmare. Music, movement, projection and shadow play are woven together with confidence, creating a richly layered world that feels far larger than the small stage it occupies.
The production leans heavily into visual storytelling. A central projection screen becomes both canvas and character, allowing performers to merge, distort and multiply in ways that feel uncannily in tune with Poe’s fractured inner life. Early on, the doubling of Poe himself – two bodies seemingly becoming one – sets the tone for a show obsessed with duality: life and death, reason and delirium, creator and creation.
Direction and choreography work hand in hand here. Movement is precise but playful, often tipping into something dreamlike rather than literal. The performers glide between scenes with a sense of inevitability, as though pulled along by the logic of a nightmare rather than a linear narrative. Crucially, the show understands when to lean into comedy. Moments of absurdity are timed with real finesse, providing release without undercutting the darker material. The comic beats land cleanly, often catching you off guard, and give the production a buoyancy that keeps it from becoming overly heavy.
Musically, Edgar in the Red Room is a genuine delight. The singing across the cast is outstanding, with voices that are clear, expressive and emotionally rich. Songs drawn from Poe’s poetry feel carefully shaped and fully embodied, enhancing the atmosphere while deepening character and mood. The musicality of the performances carries real confidence, with vocal storytelling that feels integral to the piece rather than decorative. What’s particularly striking is how assured the production feels overall – every musical cue, visual transition and comic moment lands with precision, giving the impression of a show that fully trusts its own invention.
Design is another area where the show shines. Shadow puppetry is used to striking effect, creating eerie, low-tech illusions that feel both nostalgic and inventive. Doors, frames and silhouettes become portals, traps and spectres, while costume choices underline the show’s gothic sensibility without tipping into pastiche. For such a small ensemble and intimate space, the production feels remarkably expansive, using projection, shadow and movement to conjure a world far larger than the stage itself.
What makes this production linger is its affection for its subject. This is not Poe as caricature, nor Poe as tortured-genius mythologised beyond recognition. Instead, Edgar in the Red Room offers something gentler and stranger: a sense of being inside a mind unravelling, still creating, still dreaming. It’s unsettling at times, enchanting at others, and consistently inventive.
Rather than providing answers, the show invites us to drift – to follow the logic of poetry over plot, sensation over certainty. In doing so, it captures something essential about Poe himself. Edgar in the Red Room is a haunting, imaginative achievement that proves just how magical small-scale theatre can be when craft, confidence and curiosity lead the way.
This show runs until 14th February at The Hope Theatre in Islington, London.