Peter Christian Hansen and Julia Valen Photo by Alyssa Kristine Photography

The Turn of the Screw was published as a novella in 1898, following the story being released in segments as a magazine serial. As read, and certainly being performed, as a continuous narrative without pauses to await the next installment, the gripping story of lost innocence can take one's breath away. In Jeffrey Archer's adaptation the tale is told straight through without intermission in roughly 100 minutes, building on a rising arc of tension to its chilling conclusion.

The story opens with the framing device of a man at a social gathering reading from a manuscript he received regarding (ostensibly) true events surrounding a governess and the two children in her charge. The story pivots from that prologue to the young woman from the country (she is never named, and generally called "Miss") being interviewed in London by a callow man of means who has inherited responsibility for his ten-year-old nephew, Miles, and younger niece, Flora, after the death of their parents. Having no interest in giving up time spent on his work, whatever that may be, and social life, the man seeks a governess to raise the children at his family's country estate, Bly Manor. The terms of employment require an understanding that she is never to contact him nor reach out with any question about the care of the children. She is to be the supreme authority.

The young woman accepts the position, though she has no experience caring for children. Still, she is pleased to have the means to move out of her stifling family home, and ventures forth, confident that she will win the two children over. Once at Bly, she meets Mrs. Grose, the longtime housekeeper and the only other adult living at the estate. The new governess finds things less rosy than she had imagined. She learns that Flora does not speak–that is, she can speak but will not–and that Miles has just been expelled, without explanation, from his boarding school. The governess is further troubled when she sees two strangers, first a man and then a woman, on the grounds. She describes each of them to Mrs. Grose, who has not seem them herself, but is certain they fit the description of the children's previous governess, Miss Jessel, and a former servant, Peter Quint. Mrs. Grose reveals that the two were embroiled in a torrid sexual relationship. She also tells the governess that both are dead.

With this knowledge, the governess becomes quite distressed. She supposes that the presence of these ghosts, as she presumes them to be, has a negative effect on the children–or, perhaps, the negative effect occurred due to Miss Jessel and Peter Quint's behavior at Bly while they were still alive. Or–and it is not the governess, but the audience that is made to speculate–is it the governess who is being affected by her visions, and transferring her fears on to the children?

It does seem clear that, for whatever cause, Miles and Flora do not possess the innocence that was presumed to be the birthright of young children. At the story's onset the only innocent on hand is their governess. Early on, during her interview with her employer, who presents himself with a sense of confidence in his charm and appeal, he abruptly asks her "Have I seduced you?" She, along with the audience, require a moment to realize he is talking about "seducing" her into accepting the position, not into his bed chamber. That moment lingers in our minds, and we may consider whether that was the incipient beginning of the governess' loss of the innocence she carried so confidently into that interview.

Hatcher's adaptation, which premiered at Portland Stage Company in Maine in 1996 and was produced Off-Broadway in 1999, calls for a cast of two. Julia Valen is listed in the program as playing "The Woman," which actually entails playing the governess throughout the entirety of the play. Peter Christian Hansen is listed as playing "The Man," though this actor plays four different roles, and not all men. The most significant two are Miles and Mrs. Grose, but he also portrays the children's uncle and the reader in the brief opening prologue and even briefer epilogue.

Valens gives an astounding performance, convincing us at the start that she is an innocent and eager to please young miss who can not imagine that any challenge she accepts can do her harm. As she rises to meet her challenge, Valens shows the nervous but earnest new governess reaching out to her charges with kindness and playfulness. As she sees the visions and begins to suspect the harm they intend, we watch her dissolve into an overwrought crusader whose campaign against perceived evil becomes alarmingly frightening, to the point of teetering on the edge of madness.

Hansen is wonderful, particularly as withdrawn, petulant Miles, who is a genius at getting under the governess' skin without abandoning his mild demeanor. A scene in which Miles and the governess exchange riddles is particularly potent in setting the stage for the contest of wills between them. Hansen also excels when transforming into Mrs. Grose, adopting stooped posture and an English country accent, and responding to questions posed by the governess with a wide-eyed manner that suggests that Bly is full of surprises, and not cheery ones. Hansen is persuasive as well as the children's uncle, a man about town indifferent to the needs of children, and though this is a brief role it provides a baseline for how alone Flora and Miles are in the world.

One scene that stands out to me is an exchange of riddles between the governess and Miles. Their delivery becomes more urgent as each recognizes it as the beginning of a contest of wills between, one in which authority is not issued by an absentee uncle, but based on being the cleverer of the two. Mann's direction here, and throughout the play, captures the menacing meaning lying beneath benign events.

Carl Schoenborn's set and lighting design add immeasurably to the production's success. Toward the rear of the nearly bare thrust stage is a staircase that leads up into darkness, and the open spaces on either side of the stairs also lead into darkness, so that characters disappear from view rather than simply exit. Sarah Bauer's costume designs quite effectively convey the late 19th century period and suggest the social strictures of that time. Aaron Newman's sound design also contributes to creating the feeling of foreboding that rolls in over the story like a fog.

The Turn of the Screw seems a good choice for an autumn production, with its sense of drawing close in upon itself, as we are wont to do when the air chills and the days darken. It is a strong and provocative work, being given a staging that would be hard to improve upon in any way.

The Turn of the Screw runs through December 1, 2024, at Gremlin Theatre, 550 Vandalia Street, Saint Paul MN. For tickets and information, please visit gremlintheatre.org/ or call 1-888-71 TICKETS.

Playwright: Jeffrey Hatcher, based on the novel by Henry James; Director: David Mann; Technical Director, Scenic and Light Designer: Carl Schoenborn; Costume Design: Sarah Bauer; Sound Design: Aaron Newman; Intimacy Coordinator: Annie Enneking; Dialect Coach: Keely Wolter; Stage Manager: Miles Lantham; Producer: Peter Christian Hansen.

Cast: Peter Christian Hansen (The Man), Julia Valen (The Woman).