There are plenty of laughs in Paranormal Activity, a play that just might be Broadway‘s scariest horror story ever, but they’re not the lighthearted jolly chuckles of, say, Titanique or the gut-bucket guffaws of Oh, Mary! No, the laughs in Levi Holloway‘s chiller are more along the lines of those recalled from sharing a movie theater showing The Exorcist: Relief-fueled roars spurred on by the embarrassment of having just shrieked out loud like Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween.
The movie references, of course, are intentional: Holloway’s Paranormal Activity, unerringly directed by Felix Barrett (the Punchdrunk founder and artistic director behind the popular immersive Sleep No More) and starring two Broadway newcomers who by all rights should by now be overnight stars, is based (in spirit, as it were, if not plot) on the durable Paramount Pictures film franchise of the same name.
And while the production borrows just about every worthwhile horror movie trope and scare tactic ever committed to film, this Paranormal Activity feels entirely (and idiosyncratically) of the stage, as if Holloway and Barrett worked some voodoo magic to have us all forget that we’ve ever so much as heard of, much less seen, slamming doors, impossible shadows, glitchy television sets with minds of their own and lamps that flicker like so much lightning. This play uses ’em all – to just about perfect effect – along with only-in-the-theater elements like stage lighting and sound designs that amp up the scare volume (literally) to shattering results (and not just on your eardrums, though that too.)
Ditching the films’ plotlines for something new, if, obviously, related, Paranormal Activity follows young American couple Lou (Cher Álvarez) and James (Travis A. Knight) who have recently relocated from Chicago – where some strange, vaguely described things involving “lost time” and black-outs bedeviled poor Lou.
So right from the start we have a time-honored set up: A young wife who might be haunted or maybe just unbalanced, and won’t be entirely trusted by the men in her life one way or the other. That’s a trope as socially relevant today as it was when Gaslight (a film that gets name-checked here) owned it, and Rosemary’s Baby perfected it and Let’s Scare Jessica To Death took it to the drive-in. Let the man pretend to be the hero. We know the truth.
Well, we think we do, anyway. Playwright Holloway has all sorts of tricks up his many sleeves, turning misdirection (visual, narrative, aural or otherwise) into a symphony of look-here! no look-there! shifts. There’s a shocking moment early on in which writing, directing, acting, the illusions by Chris Fisher, the lighting by Anna Watson and sound design by Gareth Fry come together so seamlessly and impactfully that the audience response is a mix of serious what-was-that gasps and very loud shrieks. Followed by that embarrassed laughter, naturally enough.
The play opens on Fly Davis’ two-tiered set – a largish but comfy and lived-in London flat, bedrooms upstairs and always on view so we see what the couple downstairs doesn’t – with the sound of a podcast filling the theater. The podcaster is a thick-accented medium, of sorts, who reminds us that houses aren’t haunted, people are. Remember that.
The anticipated spine-tingles begin almost immediately, when buzzy light fixtures and TV static make nuisances of themselves, and dazed Lou is wont to stare into a middle-distance at a presence only she can sense. James, though loving and well-intentioned, can’t help but show his skepticism, repeatedly (and blithely unaware of his condescension) asking if his wife remembered to take her meds today.
Audiences don’t need to fret about some prolonged is-she-or-isn’t-she red herring though: Soon enough, James is met with incontrovertible proof that, no indeed, they are most definitely not alone. Even the podcast medium, making a house call (perhaps the only truly unbelievable moment in a tale that by all rights should be stocked with them), freaks out when she comes face-to-face with something she probably never really believed could exist.
To give more away would be to spoil the good, scary fun that unspools over the two-hour running time, a running time, by the way, that is filled with long, tense moments of quiet anticipation expertly broken by very loud blasts of everything from rock music to slamming doors, burglar alarms, doorbells, the proverbial bumps in the night and an intensely unsettling, nearly incomprehensible voice from the ether. Old, carefully guarded secrets are revealed, shames are exposed, blame is tossed and no one is safe from the past, the predictions or one another (especially when the other isn’t all he or she appears to be).
Newcomers Álvarez and Knight couldn’t be better in their newlywed roles, convincing in their giddy love scenes, their casual affections, their unwanted suspicions and, most of all, their terror at whatever is lurking in the air and in their souls.
In supporting roles, Eva Kaminsky as the gorgeously-named spiritualist Etheline Cotgrave does well to keep us on our toes, and Shannon Cochran, as James’ Southern Christian evangelical mom, is both funny and suitably creepy whether she’s moralizing in person or via long-distance video screen chats.
The mom’s name, not so incidentally, is Carolanne, just a tiny space away from “they’re heeere” Carol Anne of Poltergeist. Yes, a bit on the nose, but who could begrudge Holloway for indulging in some fun for himself? Having perfected this whole stage fright business since his underrated 2019 outing Grey House, which now seems like a practice run, the playwright, along with his director, cast and creative and technical teams, have gifted us a smashingly diverting entertainment to kick off the Broadway fall season with a big, loud bang. Or several.
Title: Paranormal ActivityVenue: Broadway’s August Wilson TheatreWritten By: Levi HollowayDirected By: Felix BarrettCast: Cher Álvarez, Travis A. Knight, Shannon Cochran, Eva KaminskyRunning Time: 2 hr 10 min (including intermission)
Get our Breaking News Alerts and Keep your inbox happy.
Comments On Deadline Hollywood are monitored. So don't go off topic, don't impersonate anyone, and don't get your facts wrong.
Δdocument.getElementById( "ak_js_1" ).setAttribute( "value", ( new Date() ).getTime() );