Drowning Rock is an epic tale of horror, set against the backdrop of a tempestuous sea. Inspired by Cornish legends of shipwrecks and the work of H.P Lovecraft, the original script written by Matthew Wood tells the tale of Hawker, a young man researching the mysterious Drowning Rock to finish the book his father began but left uncompleted following his unexplained death.

‘Horror theatre’ is a very tricky thing to accomplish, especially so without the big budget and effects of large-scale productions such as The Woman in Black, but Cyclopean Productions do a very admirable job with a four-person cast of skilled actors and a small studio space. For example the first entrance of the sea witch provided a distinct moment of terror as she appeared suddenly in the half light. The sound effects are also put to good use – most notably the high-pitched screeching that accompanied the light turning at the top of the tower, an effect which really set the audience on edge and left a lingering feeling of suspense in its wake. In the darkest and perhaps the best moment, the sea witch appears to be feeding on a baby, and I really felt my skin crawl as she looked to the audience, illuminated only by a torch, with white eyes and deep red blood dripping from her smiling mouth.

These flashes of intrigue do well to keep the piece afloat during the first hour, but the remorseless amount of text soon begins to drown any atmosphere, and soon enough the scare moments become a tediously predicable game of spot the witch, as Hawker once again stumbles around the stage with a torch. If the piece was able to build and develop upon the special effects it put to use then the horror might have been able to escalate, but as it was the fear factor soon diminished when the same trick was used multiple times. By the time the Star Trek style growling green lizard jumps out towards the end what should be fearful has become laughable.

The piece suffers for having been both written and directed by the same person, as it largely lacks style. The set consists of dull grey blocks and white tarpaulin hung unceremoniously at the back of the stage, providing a very ineffectual backdrop for some projection that is difficult to make out. The result is that there is no atmosphere on stage – for the most part the actors stand there and talk, albeit with skill and commitment to their roles. But there are precious few moments when the text stops and silent visuals are allowed to tell the story. Even when Hawker is stumbling around in the dark in the build up to seeing a ghost he is still yapping on, and I found myself desperate for silence to be given a chance to build suspense.

By the end of the hour and forty minutes the script had entirely taken over the performance; I was exceptionally lost in the convoluted plot and struggled to understand what was happening, and the lack of horror or suspense left me cold. With such promising beginnings this production has undoubted potential; with less words and more style it might flourish.