Review: 'Prepare to reach the edge of your seat' for The Whistling

It’s always a thrill to see something new come to the stage, especially something as homegrown and unusual as The Whistling, writes Siobhan Newman.

Lean in and prepare to reach the edge of your seat as The Whistling whirls into life at the Mill at Sonning, an adaptation of the novel by author Rebecca Netley who happens to live just west of the theatre, in Reading.

Duncan Abel and Rachel Wagstaff, who wrote the script, had no idea of Netley’s location when they fell in love with the book, but it’s a nice coincidence.

The story itself is set far north of the Thames Valley. It follows Elspeth Swansome, a resourceful young woman, who travels from bustling Victorian Edinburgh to the remote island of Skelthsea to work as a nanny. 

She is greeted, if you can call it that, by the austere Greer – who follows a grand tradition of forbidding Mrs Danvers-style of housekeepers.

Their employer is Violet, who tells Elspeth (played compellingly by Rebecca Forsyth) that her young niece Mary (Sophie Bidgood, speaking volumes with her expressions) has not uttered a word since the death of her brother William. If that’s not worrying enough, Violet reveals that the previous nanny, Hettie, disappeared without a trace, apparently abandoning the silent child.

Never mind mysterious whistling, alarm bells would be ringing for most at this but dauntless Elspeth is determined to help her young charge, especially as she is grieving herself.

Throw in a shamanic wise woman Ailsa (Heather Jackson), a strange doll, eerie sounds and curious discoveries and it seems like minister Robert (Jonny McGarrity) and his wife Bridget (Susie Riddell) are the only friendly folk on the island.

Highly atmospheric, this is a ghost story that’s also a murder mystery brought to vivid life – and death.

The production is staged energetically with suitcases being moved to become steps or rocks or driftwood stakes turning to become part of a boat. I loved the soundscape, the tonal costumes and plaids, the foreshadowing…and the clever theatrics of the surprises.

Book a seat, then sit on the edge of it.