The Turn of the Screw, Linbury Theatre

A haunting, water-soaked 'Turn of the Screw' that grips from first note to last

3/28/2026

★★★★★

First performed in 1954, Benjamin Britten’s 'The Turn of the Screw' remains one of the most unsettling operas ever written. Based on Henry James’s ghost story, it trades clear answers for doubt, drawing the audience into a world where nothing can be fully trusted. This new production at the Linbury Theatre, directed by Natalie Abrahami, leans hard into that uncertainty, offering a staging that is as visually striking as it is psychologically intense.

From the opening, the tone is set with confidence. The Prologue is delivered in near total darkness, the singer moving unseen, immediately disorienting the audience. It is a simple but powerful choice that tells us this will be a world where perception cannot be relied upon. That sense of unease never really lifts.

Michael Levine’s design is bold and memorable. The stage is covered in a thin layer of water, with small platforms sliding across it to form beds, doors and fragments of the house. It creates a dreamlike, shifting space where nothing feels stable. The imagery is clever and often beautiful, especially when combined with Duncan McLean’s video projections, which show faces, memories and hidden viewpoints that deepen the sense of intrusion and surveillance. At its best, this creates real magic. The image of Flora lying by the water, half submerged in her own reflection, lingers long after the scene ends.

However, the water is not without its drawbacks. At times, the constant splashing slightly undercuts the tension, and the symbolism can feel a little too obvious. Still, the overall effect is undeniably atmospheric, helped by low, shadowy lighting that keeps everything half seen and uncertain.

Musically, the production is outstanding. Bassem Akiki draws remarkable detail from the small ensemble, making Britten’s score feel rich, tense and alive. Every instrumental colour comes through clearly, and the pacing is finely judged, allowing the drama to breathe.

The cast is uniformly strong. Isabelle Peters is compelling as the Governess, charting her journey from quiet determination to full psychological collapse with impressive control. Claire Barnett-Jones brings warmth and weight to Mrs Grose, while Elgan Llŷr Thomas’s Quint is both seductive and disturbing, his voice carrying an unsettling sweetness. Kate Royal’s Miss Jessel adds depth and sorrow, creating a powerful counterpart to the Governess.

The children are exceptional. Phoenix Matthews as Miles and Emilia Blossom Ostroumoff as Flora combine vocal assurance with eerily convincing performances, capturing both innocence and something darker beneath the surface.

What impresses most is the production’s unity of vision. Every element, design, music and performance, works towards the same unsettling goal. It is original, detailed and emotionally gripping.

This is a rare production that truly captures the opera’s ambiguity and power.

Image credit: Mihaela Bodlovic