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One of the benefits of attending Michael Sabbaton’s “The Call of Cthulhu” is that I will be finally able to say “cthulhu,” which neither I nor the girl at the box office could pronounce. Having now learned how to say this word (you should in fact use more effort than care), I think that I will keep it to myself.

I severely doubt that Cthulhu would materialise in Edinburgh’s affluent and over-civilised New Town. The Hill Street theatre is a pleasant spot, but the city possesses much darker and grimier regions in which H. P. Lovecraft’s cosmic squid imp could appear with a greater degree of comfort. If Lovecraft had himself visited Edinburgh, he would have unquestionably frequented the dank Cowgate. But Sabbaton’s show compensates for the handicap of establishing itself in the wrong half of Edinburgh (for historians of literary horror, the symbolism is important), by evoking some genuine Lovecraftian atmosphere with its awesome soundscaping. The introductory audio plunges us into Lovecraft’s nightmares with far greater success than his own prose ever could. One trembles deliciously before the suggestion of underwater abysses and desolate industrial plants and a feeling of being overwhelmed by something vast and empty and indifferent.

Sabbaton’s performance will have to be good to match the power of this introduction, and it is largely – a visceral, very physical impression of madness, if at times a little too close to becoming corny, which recalls St Anthony in the hands of Bosch and Grunewald. Sabbaton’s New York accents are impeccable, and his narratives shake some of the rigor mortis out of Lovecraft’s prose.

Although undeniably a unique, ambitious, and profoundly influential author, Lovecraft did incalculable damage to horror fiction in the long term by associating it with bad writing. One advantage of putting “Cthulhu” on stage is the chance to bypass Lovecraft’s execrable prose, whilst retaining the good things in his fiction, which is principally the atmosphere. On the question of Lovecraft’s influence, this show would have benefited from putting “Cthulhu” in a little context, possibly via a programme. To one unfamiliar with Lovecraft, this show might have looked like an unremarkable work of science fiction, and to understand its significance you need to know that “Cthulhu” was written in 1927!

Sabbaton offers a truncated “Cthulhu,” which favours dwelling upon the second, and most creepiest, passage of the story – Inspector Legrasse’s journey into the voodoo swamps – whilst not quite finding the courage to portray the ending to Lovecraft’s tale, in which Cthulhu is unleashed apocalyptically before sustaining a temporary defeat. In fairness, Sabbaton states that he wanted to produce “an adaptation and not a replication,” and he certainly conveys the atmosphere of Lovecraft’s story with great aplomb, but important points in the tale, such as Professor Angell’s death or Johansen’s adventure, flit by in passing, leading to more darkness in the audience than perhaps even Lovecraft had intended. Nevertheless, whatever my quibbles, this is a fine and valuable interpretation of Lovecraft’s story.

[The trailer is worth a look at. Ed.]