Ghostwatch

Brew a cuppa and gather round the telly because it’s time for an English ghost story. A number of them, in fact. First, we need to calm your nervous system and return your dopamine to its proper pre-Terrifier levels. Otherwise, you will be numb to the subtle chills provided by Ghostwatch, a BBC drama that debuted on Halloween night in 1992 with minimal indication it was anything but a live broadcast, complete with beloved television presenters. Host Michael Parkinson is here in the studio taking your calls, while Sarah Greene is out in the field investigating “the most haunted house in England.” Tonight they will prove once and for all whether ghosts do exist. You have left Rob Zombieland and are entering M.R. Jamestown, where a twist of linen bedclothes is the ultimate terror.

I might enjoy an entire show of Craig Charles (look, it’s Lister from Red Dwarf!) hamming it up with a microphone outside a haunted house. But these early segments featuring him may lull others to sleep. Bent spoons, a few broken dishes, and a banging sound from the central heating pipes. Parkinson tries to make sense of it all with the help of Dr. Lin Pascoe (Gillian Bevan), a parapsychologist who wants to believe. They collect fun little ghost stories from live calls and street interviews, until there is a shift from past to present tense. You begin to realize that strange doings are happening right along with the broadcast. Seemingly unconnected stories—each one ghastlier and a little less fun than the last—begin to lazily align like iron filings pointing toward magnetic north. Writer Stephen Volk channels Nigel Kneale with an ingenious script that suggests a larger, more ancient force is at work on the (fictional) London street of Foxhill Drive.

Dr. Pascoe twists herself into pretzels arguing for the veracity of the hauntings. Though she is entertainingly wrong about the motives of the poltergeist who terrorizes the Early family, she gets one thing right when she quotes Lewis Carroll. We are all determined to see “faces in the fire,” turning any abstract shape into a human (or inhuman) face. Which brings us back to M.R. James and his crumpled linen (“Oh, Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad,” for the record). Here, the ghost “Pipes”—adorably named after the pipes he bangs on—appears in a set of bedroom curtains. Director Lesley Manning turns Carroll’s observation into an operating principle: “Pipes” pops up again and again, discreetly placed in the center of a quick handheld pan or glimpsed behind a closing door—so that we know we saw him but distrust our eyes. And because Parkinson and Dr. Pascoe fail to see the faces in the fire, the show cleverly forces us into the position of reluctant believers.

Ghostwatch should be your next cozy viewing this Halloween. By cozy, I of course mean that you will be white-knuckling your tea cozy from the edge of your couch, frantically scanning every frame, poised to dial the number on the screen: “Pipes is here! I see him, he’s here!” Nervous system reactivated.