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The performance of A Warning to the Curious began, as all good performances do, as soon as the expectant audience entered the room. Greeted by the haunting melancholy strains of a violin, the audience took their seats excitedly, if somewhat apprehensively, already captivated by the eerie atmosphere. Nunkie must, of course, be congratulated on their choice of performer in Parry, a man so suited to the role of narrator it is difficult to think of him as anything other than a voice, weaved amongst the multitude of characters displayed. The audience was drawn in immediately, as each word was imparted with an almost confidential air.
The writing is, of course, only that to be expected of M. R. James. A sense of foreboding is not instilled from the outset but injected gradually, transforming innocence and kindness into horror with great skill and elegance. This, it must be said, is refreshing amongst a society enamoured of horror films that simply attack the viewer with gore and terror from the beginning. Occasional macabre humour, too, only served to prove this further, proving an effective release of the tension that built throughout the course of both of the stories.
The first was Lost Hearts, in which peculiar black magician and scholar Mr Abney takes in his orphaned cousin Stephen to his country home. Secondly was the title story, following the tale of young archaeologist Paxman, haunted and hunted by the guardian of an ancient treasure.
Both stories consisted of a relatively small cast of characters, each acted by Parry in a singularly original fashion, each with their own ticks and habits. Happily, however, this was achieved without the use of a wild range of different accents, as has been attempted before. Parry switched seemingly effortlessly between them, most notably in the titular tale, where he managed to change between the voice of the terrified Paxman and that of the narrator seamlessly.
Clearly everything has been considered here, from the atmosphere created by the use of tone by Parry to the simple set of a chair and table, dimly lit by a candlestick. This too, served its own purpose. Though perhaps not intentional, the sight of the shadow of Parry’s hands as they mimicked the shape of the scratches on Stephen’s door in Lost Hearts, fingers lengthened and sharpened to something resembling claws in the light of the candle was enough to send a shiver down the spine. This, of course, was only one tremor the audience experienced throughout the entire outstanding performance.
By Hannah Bunting and Hayley Bean
Sudbury Upper School
19th February 2010 |