The Ghost Hunter

Spirits in the Pub

The Ghost Hunter

by Stewart Pringle

OHADS at The Bell, Hampton until 2^nd November

Review by Steve Mackrell

Do you believe in ghosts?  Trying to keep an open mind, the audience are gathered looking expectantly at a stage, not in a theatre, but in the space of an upstairs room in an old pub at Halloween.  This is the historic Bell Inn in Hampton, overlooking the Thames, where we are seated, cabaret style, looking at an empty space set simply with just a bar stool.  Welcome to OHADS (Old Hamptonians Amateur Dramatic Society) eerie production of The Ghost Hunter by Stewart Pringle.

The room is long and narrow, intimately lit by candlelight, without stage lights, and onto the set walks a rather world-weary man with a cane, black hat and topcoat.  He empties some books out of his Tesco carrier bag, sits, and starts to directly address the audience.  He is alone and it is then clear, reinforced by the fact that the word Hunter in the play’s title is in the singular, that here is the only character in the play. 

So, we’re in the genre of the one-man show, the world of Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape, a format which can create some limitations that may feel restrictive.  Indeed, with just one character, there’s a danger that the audience may be presented with just a single perspective, without the challenge of an alternative view, thereby creating less opportunity for argument and dramatic conflict. 

There is also much pressure on the lone actor, with no place to hide, no safety net and no other actor to help divert attention or assist should you “dry”.  More importantly, the actor must have the authority to hold the stage and have the skill to command the attention of the audience.  Here, the task of playing Richard Barraclough, the lone ghost hunter, is taken on by Andy Smith who rises magnificently to the challenge. 

After telling a few macabre anecdotes, it transpires that Barraclough is not a hunter of ghosts, but a money-making tourist guide, steeped in the local history and superstitions of the old city of York.  His are the tales of headless women and restless poltergeists, of mass murders and the horrific conditions in which the poor lived.  We are taken on a verbal journey of horror with Viking invasions, massacres, plagues, malnutrition and gangrene.   

Andy Smith’s performance weaves between the friendly raconteur seducing the audience with his smooth charm, to a macabre storyteller with chilling tales of foul and evil deeds.  He breathes life into the text using an array of facial expressions, mannerisms, an occasional twitch and various sideways glances to meet the gaze of the audience.  His strong diction cuts through the room with venom, and we become transfixed with his wild horror stories, spiced with throwaway lines like “the headless woman who can’t speak for herself”.  Then there are the pauses, the significant pauses and the even longer significant pauses.   

Then, parallel to the horrific tales and foul deeds of old York, there is the story of the present-day Barraclough and the modern York “of trains and chocolate”.  We learn of his birth in the West Midlands, his love of Walsall football club, the failed actor and his competition in York with other tourist guides.  We also hear of a broken relationship in 1978 with a Julie Featherstone and, more relevantly, with the downside of being a tour guide, such as dealing with irritating school children who “don’t listen and walk too slow”.

Of course, a one-man show is more than a single talent and is the coming together of writer, director and actor.  Stewart Pringle’s script is taut and curdles the blood while slowly ratcheting up the yarns to a climax, capturing the gruesome history of a city riddled with dark secrets.  Director Harry Medawar creates a steady pace with a slow build allowing us to concentrate on the story telling without distraction.  The only props for the actor were his hat, his books, a cane, a pint of ale and a box which creates various scary sound effects to accompany his tours.  Otherwise, he only had his personality to rely on, and here the floor belonged to Andy Smith who breathed life into the script and took complete ownership of the room. 

As the play progressed, the interesting question that arose was the authenticity of these grisly stories.  Were these tales, as lovingly told by our tourist guide, actually true or were they merely tall stories fabricated in the local pub over a pint?  Perhaps a mix of both, but most likely they were plundered and embellished by Barraclough from local history guides.  Charlatan or not, this helped to create a fascinating character that held the interest of the audience.  However, the play’s length, at sixty minutes, was probably enough and, much longer, interest may not have been sustained.

The Ghost Hunter is a little-known play, written in 2013, with outings at the Edinburgh Fringe and, more recently, at The Old Red Lion in Angel, Islington.  This latest interpretation was, without doubt, an excellent production which was enhanced by its presentation in the non-theatrical space of a dark ghostly room above a busy riverside pub.  Congratulations to Harry Medawar and OHADS for finding this little gem of a one-man play, especially appropriate for a crisp evening at Halloween. 

Steve Mackrell, November 2024

Photography courtesy of OHADS