Blueprint for contemporary horror theatre. Three guys in a haunted house — two were born guys, one's turning into their grandmother. The dead grandmother upstairs reminds one of Hereditary, but McCarthy goes further. Sloane isn't just haunted by the past, they're forcefemmed. The guys won't see Sloane as one of the guys so they become the castrating femme of nightmares. The revenge isn't empowering as we've come to expect through camp. It's harrowing. We do not cheer.

Sloane and Gwyn bring their troubled relationship into a troubled house, one with its own secrets and its own malevolent agenda. Everything is strange, including the people of the town and, especially, the mysterious neighbor. And the ailing grandmother--is she really in that bedroom? And what is really happening in the basement? And is Sloane completely going off the rails? And a box of dog teeth? Really? McCarthy skillfully lets the tension build, all the time leaving us desperate to figure out what exactly is at work, until the chaotic paranormal denouement. Wonderfully scary stuff from beginning to end.

"I want love to win, but I don't think it will."

That's what I said during That scene in Ivories by Riley Elton McCarthy. This is what the gold standard of horror theatre is, people! If you want a show that's if Hereditary, The Shining, and Haunting of Hill House had a baby with pronouns, this is the show for you. Read this immediately, read it again, then call me so we can scream about it.