Theatre of this genre – the modern thriller, balancing horror with psychological unease – is becoming increasingly pervasive. From It Walks Around the House at Night to the seemingly endless touring success of 2:22 – A Ghost Story, contemporary audiences appear endlessly desperate for stories which invite them to laugh one moment and recoil the next. Into this theatrical landscape arrives The Psychic, the world premiere production written and directed by the formidable duo of Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman. Expectations, naturally, were immense; the atmosphere on press night at York Theatre Royal was buzzing with anticipation.

Much like Ghost Stories and 2:22, audiences are sworn to secrecy regarding the finer details of the production – both through reviewer handouts and a direct address at the close of the performance. Thus, without venturing into spoiler territory, The Psychic follows disgraced television medium Sheila Gold after a disastrous court case leaves both her reputation and finances in ruins. When a wealthy couple invite her to conduct a séance in the hope of contacting their deceased child, Sheila recognises an opportunity to reclaim both status and fortune. What unfolds is a darkly comic exploration of grief, belief, revenge and manipulation, wrapped inside a thriller which delights as much in humour as it does in fear.

It is precisely within this fusion of comedy and horror that The Psychic truly distinguishes itself. From its opening moments, the production understands that tension is often heightened by laughter, employing this to its advantage. The pre-recorded introductory montage – presenting Sheila as a celebrity psychic of absurd national importance – immediately establishes the show’s tonal confidence. Featuring appearances from recognisable public figures including Danny Dyer, the sequence generated explosive laughter throughout the auditorium, both because of its sheer audacity and because of the remarkable sincerity with which the concept was committed to.

Humour is further sharpened through Dyson and Nyman’s directorial precision. Small details become recurring comic motifs: a stubbornly child-locked pill bottle, awkward interruptions, exaggerated pauses, and Frances Barber’s exquisitely measured line delivery as Rosa. One particularly inspired sequence centres around a radio broadcast, with Dave Hearn’s Robert Hamm embodying the hyper-performative cadence of the quintessential radio host. From scripted interruptions to the exaggerated smoothness of his vocal delivery, the scene was riotously funny while simultaneously functioning as a sly satire of media spectacle. On a press night, no less, this felt especially daring. Equally effective were the more localised touches of humour – references to Durham computer science degrees as markers of ultimate achievement and throwaway jokes about the impossibility of making money in theatre – both of which landed with knowing warmth. There is a refreshing self-awareness to The Psychic; it understands precisely the kind of audience sitting before it.

Complementing the wit was the staggering design of Rae Smith, assisted by Will Fricker. Quite simply, the visual world of this production is astonishing. The sheer scale and fluidity of the set transformations repeatedly drew audible reactions from the audience, constructing everything from television studios and dressing rooms to luxurious villas with cinematic ambition. The opening image alone – glistening beneath the house lights before the performance had even begun – established an evening of immense theatrical confidence. Particularly breathtaking was the central set of Act Two: a richly detailed interior dominated by a sweeping staircase, walls lined with photographs and foliage, and an imposing floor-to-ceiling glass-panelled doorway. It was both visually opulent and psychologically evocative, fleshing out the emotional atmosphere of the play as much as its narrative setting. Even during moments where the narrative faltered slightly, the production’s visual sophistication sustained momentum.

The performances matched this design ambition effortlessly. Eileen Walsh leads the production magnificently as Sheila Gold, delivering a performance of remarkable elasticity. Walsh captures every facet of Sheila’s characterisation with conviction: the performative confidence of her public persona, the defensive volatility beneath it, and the growing fractures of self-doubt which begin to emerge as the narrative progresses. She commands the stage throughout, balancing comedy, vulnerability and menace with extraordinary control.

Alongside her, Megan Placito gives an equally compelling performance as Tara. Where Walsh’s Sheila often dominates through theatricality, Placito’s strength lies in restraint. Her emotional outbursts carry genuine force precisely because they are grounded in such carefully measured realism, and her quieter moments prove equally affecting.

Meanwhile, Frances Barber is utterly magnetic as Rosa. Oscillating seamlessly between dry humour, quiet calculation and startling aggression, Barber charts one of the production’s most fascinating character journeys. Her performance possesses an unpredictability which continually keeps the audience unsettled – a quality essential within a thriller of this nature.

Indeed, every performance across the company contributes to the production’s success. Together, the cast navigate comedy, horror, emotional devastation and absurdity with impressive tonal cohesion.

Yet, despite these considerable strengths, The Psychic does not entirely sustain the momentum it establishes so brilliantly in its opening act. The first half is genuinely exhilarating theatre: packed with sharp twists, mounting tension, inventive scares and perfectly timed humour. Interval chatter was electric, filled with excitement and speculation. Unfortunately, the second act struggles to maintain this intensity. While still visually striking and consistently well performed, the narrative turns become markedly more predictable, with revelations lacking the same shock or ingenuity as those preceding them. The pacing slackens, and the conclusion arrives somewhat abruptly, ultimately undercutting the potency of the earlier material.

Nonetheless, The Psychic remains an immensely promising and thoroughly entertaining production. Its blend of horror and comedy feels refreshingly distinct within an increasingly saturated genre, while its performances and design work are consistently exceptional. Though its second act cannot quite match the brilliance of its first, there is still an enormous amount here to admire – and more than enough to leave audiences thrilled, laughing, and just slightly unsettled on their journey home.

The Psychic is running at York Theatre Royal until Saturday 23rd May. Get your tickets here.

Image credit – Manuel Harlan.