Originally written in 1882, Ghosts by Henrik Ibsen is a renowned and once-controversial classic. This bold reimagining by Gary Owen brings the story into a modern and emotionally raw context at the Lyric Hammersmith.

The narrative follows Helena, who is determined to honour her late husband’s memory by funding a new hospital. Her son, Oz, returns home for the grand opening—but as time goes on dark secrets emerge about the man they once revered. Helena’s lawyer urges her to distance the project from her husband’s name, threatening to dismantle the legacy she’s so desperately trying to preserve.

Entering the play blindly, we expected a consistently serious tone—but a welcome surprise was the writing (especially the dramatic irony) and the cast’s ability to inject humour and lightness into the story. They held the audience in the palm of their hands, constantly shifting us between laughter and unease.

Merle Hensel’s set design is simple yet striking. The entire play unfolds in a single, stark space—a minimalist upper-class mansion, cold and clinical, furnished with just a brown sofa and a sleek bar cabinet. A reflective glass wall acts as a moody backdrop, veiled in mist and fog that eventually seeps into the home in the final moments. Wallpapered images of “The Captain”—Helena’s late husband and Oz’s father—loom ominously, his presence felt throughout despite never stepping on stage. The box-like set feels contained and visually conveys the characters’ struggle to escape his influence. It perfectly balances intimacy and distance, making the audience feel like voyeurs witnessing a family unravel.

The performances are deeply affecting and layered, with each actor perfectly cast. A standout is Callum Scott Howells as Oz, who brings flamboyance, charm, and well-timed humour to balance the play’s heavier themes. He seamlessly transforms into a raw, vulnerable man haunted by parental trauma, adding emotional complexity and relatability to the story.

You may leave needing time to process what you’ve just watched, but it’s undeniably a conversation starter packed with thought-provoking themes. This production raises sharp questions about complicity, silence, and the fine line between victim and offender. It also asks whether doing good still counts if it’s done for selfish reasons. There’s a palpable tension between reputation and truth, and explores how the ghosts of the past—both literal and emotional—continue to shape the present. Owen’s adaptation feels particularly timely and contemporary.

While I would have loved more of a conclusion, and to see how the characters’ world shifts afterward, it remains a truly chilling and gripping adaptation that kept me on the edge of my seat.