Anna Wilson makes a spectacular directorial debut for Studio Theatre Club with the hijinks on offer at the Unicorn Theatre in Abingdon this week. Written a century ago by Arnold Ridley (arguable most recognisable as Godfrey in Dad’s Army), The Ghost Train is a lively, faced paced comedy-thriller telling the story of one particularly dark and stormy night, on which a group of rail passengers find themselves marooned in a remote Cornish station waiting room. This apparently wearisome situation swiftly devolves into an unexpectedly dramatic, suspenseful, and witty adventure for all concerned.
The illustrious fashion of the Roaring Twenties is on display throughout the play: ladies wear mid to full length dresses, wool or fur coats, stoles, and felted cloche hats in a glorious array of colours; with one key player standing out in an emerald-green silk gown and diamante accessories. Men are resplendent in pinstripe, black, or tweed suits, layered under beige Macintoshes, trench coats and a variety of adornments, such as bowler hats, dickie bow ties, pocket watches and, in one instance, a monocle. The station master is instantly marked out as a tired, long serving employee by the worn state of his uniform and hat.
This downtrodden, but excitable Station Master is energetically portrayed by Mike MacDonald, who embraces the Cornish dialect with gusto. Lindsay Rolland is manifestly adept in her interpretation of the stubbornly independent Elsie Winthrop. The ever more pained attempts to hide her fear are particularly effective. She also sports an absolutely magnificent hat; clearly Elsie is a lady of fine taste! The emotive outbursts of Richard Winthrop are enacted with nimble intuition by Jon Shepherd, a gentleman who appears to be permanently on the brink of rage, despite being fundamentally good-hearted. Elena Mortimer appears as Peggy Murdock, every inch the adoring newlywed with a trusting nature; however, she also packs a piercing scream when the need arises! Peggy’s husband, Charles, is played by Ben Winters with an easy, calm affect. Kath Leighton is effortlessly comical as the nervous and naïve Miss Bourne, all her interactions with other players are genuinely delightful. The foppish, careless Dandy, Teddie Deakin, is proficiently expressed by Ben Morel-Allen. There is a lively bounce and fire in his performance throughout the entire show.
Francesca Richards is acutely strong as Julia Price, simultaneously troubled and vividly imaginative. Jamie Mortimer deftly offers up the role of Herbert Price, the angry and impatient brother to Julia. John Sterling, who accompanies the Prices’, is presented by Stephen Briggs. His seasoned versatility is veraciously applied to each scene. Rory Macklin takes part in his first show with the STC as Jackson, and despite the relatively short stage-time, he adds a clipped vigour to the action. As a bonus, the audience are also treated to a cameo from Rory Morrison (Assistant Stage Manager) as an agreeably vacant Monty Pythonesque police officer.
All three acts of the play take place in the station waiting room, designed & built by Matt Wilson, Charlie Sharma-Vicary and Anna Wilson. It comprises a made to measure wall, including a central ‘exterior’ door to the platform, and another to the Ticket Office (complete with sliding window). Each time the platform door opened it appeared to cause a genuinely cool breeze to emanate across the auditorium, which intensified the immersive reactions and dialogue. There was a delicately glowing fireplace along with wall lights, a table, bench, chairs, and various wall posters featuring sights of Cornwall, or a little advert for a local play.
Sound effects of rain and wind inconspicuously compliment the performances, along with steam train chuffs and whistles. To felicitate the atmosphere, an appropriate collection of modern songs can be heard before the show, during the interval and curtain call: I was particularly elated to catch the hauntingly eerie theme to the BBC podcast “Uncanny” amongst the tunes (“Don’t Have Nightmares” by Lanterns on the Lake). Lighting is similarly inobtrusive and simple, but never an afterthought, as it is cleverly manipulated at times to appear as if it is being controlled by members of the cast.
The ensemble is skilfully matched; there’s such an intriguing assortment of characters, with interlocking individual stories overarched by the central motif, without so much as a second for the audience to be anything other than totally engrossed in the action unfolding before them. Friday and Saturday night are sold out, so if you haven’t already secured your tickets, Thursday is your only chance to step aboard The Ghost Train (don’t dally, they may already be gone by the time this goes to print)!