Review: The Hungry Ghost (Bush Theatre)

Review by Seth Wilby

⭐⭐⭐⭐

As audiences enter the Bush Theatre this October, they may notice an empty seat on the front row, marked as reserved, and kept empty for the duration of the performance. This is not a booking error, however, but a Chinese custom, designed to prevent haunting and misfortune by allowing any ghosts in the building to watch the show from the best seats in the house. But would this new play be dead-icated to pleasing its ghostly audience, or would they see straight through it?

Premiering at the Bush Theatre’s brilliantly congenial studio space, The Hungry Ghost is a sexy horror rom-com following a girl who, over the seventh lunar month (during the Festival of the Hungry Ghosts), accidentally gets herself possessed by one hungry ghost with unfinished business. Overcome with desire as she’s caught between her traditional Chinese parents and secret Scottish girlfriend, she’s left fighting for her own body and forced to confront the consequences she leaves behind in this exploration of love, appetite, and superstition.

As explained in the playscript, The Hungry Ghost follows a four-act structure known as 起承轉合, said to have originated from traditional Chinese poetry. Writer Mei Leng Yew takes us through these stages of introduction, development, twist, and reconciliation well in this surprisingly calm haunting, which, although primarily revolving around our protagonist’s liberation and captivity, also offers a nicely deep examination of relationships, both familial and romantic, and the many types of hunger. The narrative is a modern delight, engaging and easy to get invested in, with Chinese cultural references neatly segued in and explained. 

It’s a structure well-executed by Yew, who uses the simplicity of this two-person plot to provide a hyperfocused analysis of our characters in every action and choice, consistently making sure to show and not tell. Instead of being driven by conflict like most Western plays, though, this is a structure traditionally driven by discovery, which is perhaps what makes the writing so interesting. While the plot does feel a little sparse, particularly before the interval (although both halves run fairly short, with the play at one hundred minutes including interval), Yew’s writing remains compellingly original, a cultural exposé of sorts that is wonderful to witness and conceals definite nuance.

Genre-wise, it is a delightful hybrid, opening up the traditional ghost story to something notably lighter. While the horror is more in concept than execution (no one would be cowering under their bedsheets after this), it is as a rom-com that the piece shines most. The relationship between our protagonist (referred to simply as ‘Girl’) and girlfriend Naomi is the touchingly human, beating heart of the play, while the relationship between Girl and her Ghost is the intriguing brain powering it along. Yew’s writing is littered with a glorious comic flair in every scene, often achieving the beauty of finding laughs in each situation, which, when paired with the authentic warmth of the dialogue, makes for a deliciously tender watch.

With just two performers (yet also two planes of existence) on stage, the text needs creative direction to represent it all, which director Ailin Conant excels at delivering. The pace is relentlessly confident, and the depiction of the ghost lurks at the optimum degree of creepiness, with her continuously unsettling eeriness presenting a clear contrast to Girl’s bouncy, friendly persona. The set design by Yimei Zhao (a blush pink room with panels concealing location-indicating props) is a great showcase for the story, and cleverly utilised for some humorous moments, although it is one choice involving a Sainsbury’s worker that gets the night’s most rapturous response in Conant’s constantly perfect depiction of the style the show needs.

Most captivating about the direction, however, is the movement (movement direction is by Jasmine Chiu) and character depictions. Besides the obvious uncanny quality of the ghost, there’s an unbelievable synchronicity between the two performers that is simply magnetic, and the lurking yet energetic nature given to the ghost reveals a wealth of information on her personality. As the play progresses, it’s fascinating to see the change in which performer seems to be depicting the Girl, and who is restricted to an inner monologue (although there is slightly too much address to the audience within the script), with the collaboration between Conant and Chiu not only supporting Yew’s narrative desires, but actually enhancing the way they are presented.

As Girl, Mei Mac commands the stage, demonstrating an extraordinary skill in shapeshifting her entire performance (no surprise after her Olivier-nominated turn as a four-year-old in My Neighbour Totoro) to portray Girl’s mother, a police officer, her Scottish girlfriend, and more, each exaggerated just the right amount through her physical and vocal performances. She switches seamlessly between all of these, flawlessly carrying the show’s narrative in her dynamic and vibrant performance that overflows with layers of radiant joy and terror, as well as a gifted comic delivery.

Matching Mac’s brilliance is Isabella Wei, who handles her difficult part of the Ghost with ease. Mesmerising and mysterious, Wei’s ghost is a spectre who seems to be disguising her every thought, with a nostalgic attitude towards the world lending her a selfish yet well-meaning camaraderie with Girl (think of her spirit as somewhere between Casper and Beetlejuice). She embraces the possibility for fun in her role, with her excitable reactions consistently very funny, yet it is in the play’s final segments, as the comedy shifts to tragedy, where she most excels, thanks to a beautifully devastating monologue by Yew which delicately redefines the narrative, with Wei ending Ghost’s arc with a touchingly hopeful closure.

Everything about The Hungry Ghost feels exciting. It’s sexy, it’s funny, it’s heartwarming, and, most importantly, it feels deeply original. The two performers excel in bringing Yew’s nuanced text to life, and Conant’s direction lends it a magnetic depiction, with Chiu’s movement standing out as some of the smartest I have seen. We are left feeling elated and compelled after this delightful, cross-genre story of discovery that’s the perfect show for those who want more treats than tricks in their rom-coms this spooky season.

The Hungry Ghost plays at Bush Theatre until 31st October. Tickets from https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/the-hungry-ghost/

Photos by Corrine Cumming