Having entered Theatre Royal Windsor with no prior knowledge of Henry James’s The Turn of the Screw, I initially imagined something reminiscent of The Secret Garden, with a young governess arriving at an imposing country house to care for two children. That expectation was abruptly shattered by a startling scream and ominous sound effects. Morgan Lloyd Malcolm’s adaptation of James’s celebrated 1898 novella, presented by Blackeyed Theatre and Arcola Theatre and directed by Nicky Allpress, quickly established a far more sinister world. Despite occasional confusion over the story, I remained captivated and on the edge of my seat.

The Governess accepts her first appointment at Bly, a remote country estate where she is entrusted with two orphaned children, Miles and Flora. Their uncle, the Master, insists that she take complete responsibility without troubling him with their affairs. What initially seems a promising position becomes increasingly disturbing as the children’s behaviour changes and the Governess begins to suspect that the house is haunted by figures from its past.

At the heart of the production is Amy Tara, whose portrayal of the Governess is quite outstanding. Her upright posture, composed manner and elegant period dress immediately establish a convincing young woman entering a profession governed by discipline, responsibility and strict social expectations. Tara inhabits the role with remarkable assurance, presenting a character whose determination to succeed is evident from her earliest exchanges with her prospective employer.

As the Governess becomes increasingly troubled by events at Bly, Tara carries much of the dramatic weight. Her performance moves convincingly between confidence, affection, apprehension and desperation, while retaining the audience’s sympathy even when the character’s interpretation of events becomes questionable. With considerable stretches of dialogue and an emotional journey that becomes increasingly demanding, she commands the stage throughout. It is a wonderfully sustained performance, forming the emotional centre of the production.

Jim Fish deserves particular praise for his accomplished portrayal of two distinctly unpleasant characters, the Master and the mysterious Man who interrogates the Governess. So convincingly differentiated are his performances that I did not realise until well into the play that both roles were played by the same actor. As the Master, Fish conveys the charm and entitlement of a gentleman accustomed to having his wishes obeyed, while his apparent indifference towards the children raises uncomfortable questions about his responsibilities. As the interrogator, he becomes cold, persistent and intimidating, repeatedly challenging the Governess’s recollections and undermining her confidence. Fish brings a different quality to each character, demonstrating impressive versatility while contributing considerably to the production’s psychological tension.

The children are equally fascinating, their behaviour continually shifting between apparent innocence and something considerably more disturbing. Toby Beynon portrays Miles with an unusually mature manner, his polite conversation and carefully measured speech frequently suggesting someone far older than his years. At times charming and considerate, he can suddenly become unsettling, adopting an authority that seems entirely inappropriate for a young boy. Beynon handles these changes convincingly, leaving the audience uncertain whether Miles is concealing disturbing knowledge, influenced by supernatural forces or reflecting troubling experiences. His additional portrayal of Peter Quint strengthens this uncertainty.

Kathleen McAuley Irvine gives an equally accomplished performance as Flora, initially presenting a lively, affectionate girl who delights in games and the arrival of her new Governess. Yet her seemingly innocent behaviour can change dramatically, revealing moments of hostility and an unsettling coldness. Irvine makes these transformations particularly effective without losing the character’s youthful qualities. Her doubling as the deceased Miss Jessel adds another dimension to the mystery, raising questions about whether Flora’s behaviour is being influenced by an unseen presence or shaped by events that remain concealed.

Katy Slater brings considerable assurance to Mrs Grose, the housekeeper, whose apparently dependable presence offers the Governess some initial reassurance. However, her guarded responses and reluctance to discuss the household’s history gradually suggest that she knows considerably more than she is prepared to reveal. Slater gives a convincing, carefully measured performance, making Mrs Grose an important part of the developing uncertainty. Janita Mikkola also contributes effectively to the ensemble, adding to the production’s unsettling theatrical atmosphere. Together, the company delivers performances of consistently high quality, with each actor making a valuable contribution to the unfolding mystery.

Hattie North’s outstanding sound design is one of the production’s greatest achievements. From the startling opening moments, an ominous soundscape sustains an almost constant sense of unease. Sudden effects intensify dramatic exchanges, while subtler sounds generate anticipation even during quieter scenes. Far more than an accompaniment, the sound becomes essential to the unfolding suspense and plays a major role in maintaining the audience’s attention.

The visual presentation is equally imaginative. Matthew Cassar’s deceptively simple set features tall, overlapping translucent frames before a backdrop depicting bare trees and an imposing country house. Figures emerge from the darkness or appear behind the panels, suggesting mysterious presences just beyond the Governess’s sight. Oliver McNally’s lighting design selectively illuminates these structures, creating shifting shadows and striking contrasts between darkness and cold blue light. A sudden flash accompanied by a sharp, lightning-like electrical sound demonstrates how effectively the lighting and sound work together. Drifting haze and reflections across the glossy stage floor heighten the supernatural atmosphere, while Wayne Fox’s special effects and Mandy Gordon’s movement and intimacy direction contribute to the production’s distinctive theatrical language. Under Allpress’s direction, these elements complement rather than overwhelm the performances.

Nevertheless, the storytelling is not without its unanswered questions. James’s original novella famously leaves readers uncertain whether its ghosts are real or manifestations of the Governess’s increasingly troubled imagination, and Malcolm understandably preserves that ambiguity. However, the mysterious interrogator introduces another layer of uncertainty. Who exactly is this man, what authority does he possess, and why does he persistently challenge her account? His identity and relationship to the Master remain frustratingly unclear, while the children’s changing behaviour also raises questions that are difficult to resolve.

The concluding scenes offer an intriguing perspective without entirely explaining these mysteries. The final exchange returns almost word for word to the opening interrogation, suggesting that the Governess is caught in a seemingly endless cycle of defending her account against someone determined to undermine her credibility. This introduces a thought-provoking theme concerning the struggle of women to have their experiences believed. Yet while the circular ending gives the interrogation greater thematic purpose, it does not adequately explain the man’s identity or place within the story. The distinction between deliberate ambiguity and unnecessary confusion therefore remains blurred.

Conversations with other audience members afterwards suggested that I was not alone in finding aspects of the narrative perplexing. Yet those unanswered questions did little to diminish the experience itself. The exceptional acting, atmospheric soundscape and imaginative staging maintained the suspense throughout. The Turn of the Screw is an absorbing and frequently unsettling production, distinguished by a uniformly excellent company and a particularly impressive central performance from Amy Tara. Its storytelling may leave audiences searching for greater clarity, but its ability to captivate is undeniable.