Review: GHOST STORIES, The Alexandra - Tour
Photo credit: Hugo Glendinning
There could be no more fitting venue for Ghost Stories than The Alexandra in Birmingham—a place with its own haunted reputation, where ghost walks and whispered legends are part of the fabric. The theatre’s grand, shadowy interior becomes more than a backdrop—it becomes a character in itself, wrapping the audience in atmosphere before the curtain even rises.
Directed and written by Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman, with original direction by Sean Holmes, Ghost Stories is a tightly wound, 90-minute thrill ride of psychological suspense, dark humour and creeping dread. It’s a masterclass in how to keep an audience simultaneously laughing and jumping out of their seats.
Opening the show solo is Dan Tetsell as Professor Goodman, delivering a lecture-style introduction that is both charming and unsettling. Tetsell strikes a perfect balance between academic authority and theatrical flair, pulling us into a world where belief and perception collide. His performance feels so authentically lecture-like, were it not for the pitch-black surroundings, one could easily believe they were sitting in on a university course in parapsychology. From the outset, the production cleverly frames the audience's experience as deeply subjective—a brilliant narrative device reflected in the varied reactions in the room, from stifled giggles to silent, white-knuckled tension.
The supporting cast are equally compelling. David Cardy brings a raw vulnerability to Tony Matthews, while Eddie Loodmer-Elliott’s portrayal of Simon Riffkind is unsettling in all the right ways. Clive Mantle, as Mike Priddle, shifts seamlessly between dry wit and sheer terror, contributing to the carefully constructed emotional pendulum that swings throughout the show.
The play’s structure, a triptych of personal tales anchored by Professor Goodman’s investigation, builds tension with a measured hand. Each story explores a different form of the paranormal—rationally explainable, perhaps, but far more unsettling when viewed through the lens of belief. Whether you're a sceptic or a believer, the play gets you thinking—and it's far more fun to lean into the irrational.
The writing is sharp, often funny, and at times uncomfortably provocative. A particular moment involving frustration at a non-native English speaker sits awkwardly in today’s social context. While arguably intended as a reflection of character frustration, the line “and learn English for god’s sake” felt jarringly outdated and out of step with the otherwise thoughtful tone. Comedy can challenge, but it needn’t punch down.
That said, the show remains largely deft in its handling of humour and horror. Moments of levity—like a comically all-too-familiar struggle with a phone network—land beautifully without undermining the suspense. The production knows when to breathe and when to pounce, pacing that few thrillers manage so well.
But what makes Ghost Stories truly unforgettable is how it becomes an assault on all the senses. Sight is coerced into the darkest of corners; shadows stretch into oblivion and your eyes begin to question what’s real. Sounds strike with precision, setting you perpetually on edge. The theatre itself seems to drop in temperature as the show progresses, at one point, a sharp punch of cleaning products fills the air, only to disappear as quickly as it arrived. It’s theatrical storytelling that doesn’t just want to be watched, but felt.
Jon Bausor’s set design is a standout: grand, imposing and packed with nooks and voids that defy the reach of light. James Farncombe’s lighting design works in elegant tandem with this, letting darkness do the heavy lifting. The selective use of torches and precise lighting cuts through the gloom with purpose, often revealing just enough to trigger the imagination into overdrive.
Nick Manning’s sound design is vital to the show’s success. Haunting, sudden and, at times, almost unbearable in its tension-building, it works in perfect harmony with Scott Penrose’s special effects, which elicit both gasps and nervous laughter. Together, they ensure the audience never feels fully safe.
Ghost Stories doesn’t rely on cheap shocks or gore—it builds its horror slowly, smartly, and with genuine theatrical flair. It treads the fine line between sanity and madness, reason and fear, with exquisite control. As with all the best ghost stories, we’re asked to keep the secrets—and the joy is in the secret.
In short, Ghost Stories is a chillingly brilliant night out, made all the more potent by the theatre’s own spectral history. Whether you're a believer or a sceptic, you'll leave the auditorium glancing over your shoulder.
**** Four stars
Reviewed by: Alanna Boden