2:22 – A Ghost Story

There are moments when Allen, making her stage debut, shows she has the makings of a strong actor – unexpected intonation, a tight, awkward unease that colours every movement, and an inability to stay still as she jitters around the stage making tea or pouring drinks. But her performance is often one-note – she shouts her lines from the off, giving her nowhere to go.

All the actors struggle, however, to de-ossify a script that uses its characters as conduits. Jake Wood’s Ben feels underworked, too much of an easy comic foil, and Julia Chan’s sardonic Lauren is only there to be in love with Sam, though she creates a nice frisson with Hadley Fraser. Fraser himself is the most successful at making the awkward exchanges sound convincing.

2.22 leans heavily on Ian Dickinson’s sound design – admittedly exquisite – to jolt us out of our skins. Wailing foxes and sudden surges of sound, mixed with Lucy Carter’s lighting, a blend of naturalistic and brash neon, punctuate the slightly plodding scenes.

Those loud moments wouldn’t be half as effective if Robins and director Matthew Dunster hadn’t successfully cranked up the tension throughout. The production’s strengths are in its ideas and the occasional daft joke. As the outside the fog thickens, so does the plot. The alcohol flows, tempers prickle – but while there are the stirrings of satire about wine-sloshing middle classes and gentrification, they sort of fizzle out. Though it’s a good ghost story, it works less well as a play and can’t shake off the awkwardness that haunts it.