An air raid siren wails, a small boy shines a torch at the stage and in the audience, a chorus of teachers shush their GCSE students - it could only be An Inspector Calls.
If you’re studying the play, Stephen Daldry’s radical 1992 production offers even more food for thought than traditional stagings of JB Priestley’s classic.
Set just before the start of the First World War, it follows what happens when a mysterious inspector disturbs a dinner party at the home of the prosperous Birlings, uncovering a litany of secrets.
The theatrical devices could add up to an essay of their own - Daldry’s version adds tricks with time, with silent onlookers from the 1940s (when the play was written) and a landscape devastated by the Blitz. It’s a timeless challenge both to the values of the pompous Edwardian family and the society we live in today.
The Birlings are closeted in their claustrophobic dolls house perched on stilts, while only Sheila (Chloe Orrock) appears to notice the changes around them, representing the younger generation as hope for the future.
The pouring rain, gloomy lighting and swirls of mist make for an atmospheric introduction to this disconcerting world - even if 2020 intrudes with a fire alarm and the temporary evacuation of the theatre.
The production feels as fresh as the day it opened, with a set that looks downright dangerous for the actors on stage when it (like the family’s lives) comes crashing down.
Chloe Orrock doesn’t miss a beat in a gradual transformation from spoilt brat to a young woman examining her conscience, while Ryan Saunders’ Eric comes into his own once confronted with the consequence of his own actions.
Alasdair Buchan is excellent as slimy Gerald Croft, initially offering some redeeming qualities amid this bleak view of humanity, only to do an about-turn in the closing scenes.
As the mysterious Inspector Goole, Liam Brennan is an intense, determined figure, full of barely suppressed fury and ever-conscious that time is running out.
Meanwhile Jeffrey Harmer and Christine Kavanagh are a brilliantly unpleasant pair as the elder Birlings, stressing their links to the police, the judiciary and anyone who could get them out of a tight spot.
The true horror of the story is laid bare in their unwillingness to accept the part they may have played in a young working class woman’s death. The point is forcibly driven home with Sybil putting her hands over her ears.
The twist in the tale is no secret, but remains hugely satisfying when it arrives.
