The Nightmare Room

I’m back again at Nottingham’s Theatre Royal for the second instalment of the Colin McIntyre Classic Thriller Season and, having seen a few production shots, I know this will be a completely different experience from last week’s comical farce. The Nightmare Room is a two-hander, adapted by Tabs Productions’ own John Goodrum from the short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and directed by Karen Henson.

The curtain opens and the audience is presented with a deceptively simple set (designed by John Goodrum and Conal Walsh): a pristine white box, a white table, two white chairs, two glasses, a jug and one small bottle of poison… oh, and two women at its centre: one blindfolded and tied to a chair, the other standing with menace. And so, the game is afoot…

The stark simplicity of the white box is immediately unsettling. It strips everything else away and forces us to focus entirely on the relationship between Catherine (Sarah Wynne Kordas) and Helen (Corinne Begluk), and the shifting dynamics between them. Best friends since childhood – how did it end up here?

The piece moves between the confrontation unfolding inside the locked white room and a series of flashbacks which provide context. These shifts in time are punctuated by lighting (Conal Walsh) and sound, and I personally really enjoy their abruptness, although I appreciate some may find them a little jarring, particularly when they come in quick succession.

The lighting is a real highlight of this production. It is used with flair, moving from stark, almost blinding white to a more intimate cream, with silhouetted patterns representing a time before the two women are forced to confront each other and their wants and desires. Quick, silent transitions are difficult to pull off, and the lightning-fast, whisper-quiet changes from present to past are a technical highlight.

Sarah Wynne Kordas is fantastic as Catherine. Having played a light comedic role in last week’s production, here she reveals an entirely different register: commanding, controlled and menacing. Yet she also allows glimpses of vulnerability that humanise Catherine and make her compelling. Her range is striking. Opposite her, Corinne Begluk matches her beat for beat. Their chemistry is the production’s real engine, with the power dynamic constantly shifting between them. Sometimes it is silence, a pause or a glance that builds the tension far more effectively than volume ever could. Both actresses move from brittle control to fragility with ease.

This is a dialogue-heavy production and, save for a brief moment of physical aggression, it relies almost entirely on the gradual build-up of tension to keep its audience engaged. Act One does this particularly well, building intrigue with confidence. Act Two though, struggles a little to sustain that momentum.

It is here that some moments begin to revisit emotional territory that already feels clear, blunting the urgency rather than adding to it. One of the lengthier childhood flashbacks also feels drawn out. The event itself is clearly significant, yet there is little subsequent exploration of how the adult women understand it, remember it or have been shaped by it. As a result, this scene, along with other flashbacks. feels somewhat detached from the psychological battle unfolding in the white room.

I find myself wanting less explanation through flashback and more measured reaction between Catherine and Helen in the present. The flashbacks provide information, but allowing those past events to feed more directly into the women’s adult interaction could have deepened the psychological element of the thriller and made their relationship feel more naturalistic. At times, the script perhaps tells us more than we actually need to know when the performances have already allowed us to understand what is happening.

Similarly, although the production contains numerous twists, some of the foreshadowing feels a touch too pronounced. I find myself anticipating some key reveals before they arrived, which inevitably dulls their impact. That said, there were audible gasps from audience members around me, so perhaps I’m simply getting more adept at spotting those clues.

The Nightmare Room is a stylish, superbly acted psychological thriller with some excellent technical work. The cast and creative team deliver their work with style and discipline, and the final moments are especially well staged, with the lighting creating a striking and memorable final image.

While the script occasionally overexplains where greater ambiguity might have heightened the suspense, the strength of the performances, assured direction and visual precision still make this a compelling evening of theatre.

The Nightmare Room is playing at Nottingham’s Theatre Royal until Saturday 22 August.