Frontmezzjunkies reports: 2:22 – A Ghost Story and Paranormal Activity promise two very different nights of theatrical terror
By Ross
Fear and I have always had a complicated relationship. I love a good roller coaster because I know exactly what I have signed up for. The climb, the drop, the scream, and then the relief. Theatre, films, and television are another matter entirely. I admittedly feel everything far too intensely, and when I don’t know what is waiting around the next corner, my imagination eagerly fills in the blanks long before the story does. It is probably why I spend so much time peeking between my fingers during horror movies, while simultaneously wondering why I bought the ticket in the first place.
And yet, here I am again, willingly walking toward two productions that seem determined to make me question that decision.
The first is 2:22 – A Ghost Story, Danny Robins’ international stage phenomenon, which arrives in New York after seven West End seasons, multiple tours, and productions around the world. Fortunately, I already know this particular ghost. I caught the production during a whirlwind visit to London’s West End a few years ago, racing across the city after a matinee with barely enough time to grab a bag of crisps before settling into the Criterion Theatre.
I still remember staring at that glowing red digital clock hanging above the stage, waiting for 2:22 to arrive. (You can read my review here.) What impressed me then was not simply how frightening a play could be, but how intelligently this one earned those scares. As I wrote after seeing the London production, it was “a genuinely great puzzle and yarn to unwrap,” one that “expertly teases out the tale” while giving audiences “ample time and engagement” to settle into its steadily mounting tension. Rather than relying on endless shocks, Robins constructs an evening where belief and skepticism quietly battle for control, inviting us to decide for ourselves whether the strange sounds haunting Jenny’s new home are born from grief, exhaustion, imagination, or something far more unsettling.
Of course, I also confessed one of my own theatrical habits. Throughout the performance, I found myself constantly scanning the set, trying to predict where the next surprise might emerge. I wanted desperately to outsmart the production before it could frighten me. Unsurprisingly, the play proved much cleverer than I was.
If 2:22 feels like a ghost story built around conversation, doubt, and psychological suspense, Paranormal Activity promises something altogether different. Based not on a single film but conceived as an original story inspired by the enormously successful horror franchise, the new stage production follows an American couple attempting to rebuild their lives after a mysterious ordeal in Chicago, only to discover that whatever haunted them has travelled alongside them. Written by Levi Holloway and directed by Punchdrunk’s Felix Barrett, the production arrives on Broadway after acclaimed runs in Chicago, Washington, San Francisco, Toronto, and London’s West End.
Everything about the creative team suggests an experience designed to blur the line between theatrical illusion and genuine unease. Chris Fisher, whose stage illusions helped make Stranger Things: The First Shadow such a phenomenon, is responsible for the production’s supernatural effects, joined by designers Fly Davis, Anna Watson, Gareth Fry, and Luke Halls. Reports from previous productions describe audiences screaming, jumping from their seats, and even fainting.
That sentence alone is enough to make me question my life choices. But perhaps that is precisely why I find myself somewhat eager to experience both productions. Fear inside a theatre feels strangely different from fear anywhere else. It is communal. Hundreds of strangers gather together, knowing they have willingly surrendered themselves to uncertainty for a few hours. Every gasp ripples through the audience. Every nervous laugh becomes contagious. Every unexpected silence feels heavier because everyone is holding their breath together.
I cannot honestly promise that I will watch every frightening moment without occasionally hiding behind my hands. Experience suggests that is highly unlikely. But I also know that some of the most memorable nights in the theatre come from stepping into stories that challenge us emotionally in ways we never expected. Whether I find myself counting the minutes until 2:22 once again or nervously bracing for whatever Paranormal Activity has waiting in the darkness, I suspect I will leave both theatres with my pulse racing, my imagination working overtime, and a renewed appreciation for the remarkable power live theatre has to make us feel something we never quite wanted to feel, yet somehow cannot stop chasing.
