It Walks Around the House at Night at ARC Stockton Arts Centre Review
Photo: Tommy Ga-Ken Wan
Written by Stacy for Theatre and Tonic
Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in return for an honest review
I went to see It Walks Around the House at Night by Thick Skin Theatre at the ARC Stockton Arts Centre and from the moment I stepped into the space, I felt as if I had crossed a threshold into somewhere private and unsettling. Written by Tim Foley with direction by Neil Bettles, the concept is simple. A storyteller stands before us and invites us into a tale that feels half remembered and half imagined. Yet the simplicity is a trick. What unfolds is layered, eerie, and quietly consuming.
The narrative does not rush. It coils. It lets silence sit. It lets images form in the mind rather than forcing them onto the stage. I found myself almost frozen and tense, drawn in by suggestion more than action. Foley's writing trusts the audience to meet it halfway, and because of that trust the story becomes personal. I was not just watching events. I was complicit in imagining them.
Lighting played a huge role in that spell. It pulled me into the dark world of the play, casting shadows at the edges of my vision so I felt like something might be moving just out of sight. Joshua Pharo's design never shouted for attention yet it constantly shaped my emotional response. When the light shifted, my pulse shifted with it. Pete Malkin's sound worked in the same way. It was not there to decorate. It was there to haunt. Small noises seemed enormous. Quiet moments rang louder than any crash. Together they created a space that felt alive and alert, like the room itself was listening.
At the centre of it all was George Naylor as Joe, who carried the performance with astonishing stamina and charm. He was a whole cast contained in one body. He slipped between characters with precision and ease, changing rhythm and tone so fluidly that I never doubted who was speaking. He was instantly likeable, the sort of performer who makes you feel chosen as a listener. I felt as if he was telling the story directly to me and refusing to let me drift away until he had finished. The energy required for that kind of sustained presence must be immense yet his focus never faltered. He held the room in the palm of his hand.
Then without warning Oliver Baines appeared as The Dancer and the atmosphere shifted again. His movement was smooth, controlled, almost liquid. He did not simply dance. He seemed to bend the air around him. The moment felt suspended in time...hypnotic and strangely beautiful, like watching a dream take shape before dissolving again. It was brief but unforgettable, a visual echo of the story’s inner unease.
The set design, by Bettles and Tom Robbins, was spare but deliberate. Nothing felt decorative. Every object seemed placed with purpose, as though it might reveal a secret if touched. That restraint allowed my imagination to fill in the gaps. I could picture rooms, footpaths, and unseen presences far beyond what was physically there.
What struck me most was how the liveness of theatre sharpened the horror. In film a shadow is just an image. Here it was a shared experience. I could feel the audience holding their breath together. I could sense attention tightening across the room. The knowledge that anything could happen in real time made even stillness feel charged. The play did not rely on shocks. It relied on anticipation, and that is far more powerful when you are sitting in the same space as the performer creating it.
By the end I felt as though I had been gently pulled into a trance and only released once the final moment landed. I left with that eerie sensation that the story had followed me out, lingering somewhere just behind my shoulder. It Walks Around the House at Night is a hypnotic dream that lures you in and refuses to let go. Unsettling, seductive, and utterly unforgettable.
Content warning: Loud and sudden noises, haze, flashing lights, occasional strong language, horror imagery and jump scares.
★★★★★
