His heart told him to keep with Waters’s novel, a 1948 rural England-set tale narrated by one Dr Faraday (Domhnall Gleeson), a medic who returns to Hundreds Hall, a once-grand home he visited as a boy. As he meets the Ayers family, headed by Charlotte Rampling in typically icy mode, strange and possibly supernatural goings-on occur. But it’d be wrong to think of The Little Stranger simply as a ghost story. “It really operates as a drama, as a character study, as a meditation on these people and particularly on the character of Faraday.”
On some level, it’s comparable to Henry James’s eerie tale The Turn of the Screw “in its commitment to ambiguity”, as the director puts it. “The ghost story is not the point. A ghost story is something which helps us to unearth aspects of this character in a really vivid way. I think all good classic ghost stories probably do that… [they have] to tell us something about the people in it and the times they’re in. Otherwise it is just fireside spook fest, and that’s certainly not what this is.”
While the marketing for The Little Stranger — particularly the doom-laden trailer— might suggest it is a horror, Abrahamson argues that, in a typical scary movie, the viewer is on the outside. “You identify with the protagonist to the extent that you feel the fear they would feel in that situation, but you remain safe in the cinema. But, in this story, the questions it raises should have the potential to make all of us feel uneasy. One might, I’d hope, walk out of the cinema not completely separate from the Faraday story.”
The second Waters novel in reasonably quick succession to make it to the screen, following 2016’s erotically-charged South Korean movie The Handmaiden — taken from her Victorian-set tale Fingersmith — Abrahamson was most struck by the portrait of Faraday. “He’s such a complex, unusual central character. Compromised in many ways, potentially unreliable, repressed, not always the most likeable. But, at the same time, I found him the most moving character.”
Casting Faraday gave Abrahamson the chance to reunite with Gleeson, who was similarly the outsider-narrator figure in Abrahamson’s oddball Frank Sidebottom tale, Frank. “It was great to give him something really meaty, dark and layered in this film,” he says. Arguably, the role of Faraday is one of Gleeson’s most mature and complex yet, something Abrahamson expects to continue as his career unfolds. “He’s very good at playing the everyman centre of a story but it doesn’t make use of all his talents as an actor.”
Abrahamson, like Gleeson, is Dublin-born, though his roots stem largely from Poland; he had three grandparents from there (and one from Latvia). He knew his mother’s father well, he says, and one of the first things he ever shot was a sit-down interview as his grandfather recounted his memories of life in Poland.
“He had this fantastic accent — a mixture of his own Yiddish-Eastern European accent and then a strong Dublin accent, because he came over and learnt his English in a factory in Dublin.”
Curiously, Abrahamson has come to know his grandfather’s homeland “much better than I ever thought” after his 2004 feature debut Adam and Paul was invited to the Warsaw Film Festival.
“It was the first time I was in Poland,” he says, though it turned out to be significant. There, he met his future wife, who is Polish, and they now have two bilingual children. “My Polish isn’t too bad,” he says. “So it’s a long-term ambition to make a film in Polish…which would be a huge challenge.”
In his youth, Abrahamson had his barmitzvah and the family “went to synagogue on the High Holy Days”, though he’s no longer practising. “I’m not at all religious,” he says. “But culturally [being Jewish] had a profound effect on me, in ways that are so hard to unpick; it’s a big part of my formative years.”
So much so, I am moved to ask if he is considering any projects informed by being Jewish and he reveals he’s been developing an adaptation of Gitta Sereny’s Into That Darkness, a biography of Franz Stangl.
The commandant of the extermination camp Treblinka during the Second World War, Stangl’s story is, Abrahamson says, “an analysis of how it is possible for a relatively ordinary person to do what he did.
“It seems to me the biggest question of all… the capacity of people to become swept along by the ideology of the time.”
It is surely a project that will resonate in today’s climate, given the unsettling rise of the far right. While Abrahamson has other projects on the boil — an American Civil War tale, a biography of boxer Emile Griffith – this feels like a film screaming to be made.
‘The Little Stranger’ opens on September 21.
