There are some ideas that naturally lend themselves to a format. I wasn’t aware of the superstition of “The Curse of the Ninth” before tonight’s incredible episode of Inside No.9 and genuinely thought it was a phenomenon that Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith had invented for this episode. It’s a concept so uniquely suited to this series, right down to the number, that it makes you wonder why they didn’t make this episode years ago!
The real life idea behind the episode is that any composer is destined to die soon after composing their ninth symphony. This superstition, propagated by Gustav Mahler, was based on his observation that Beethoven and Schubert had both died before completing their tenth symphonies. It’s a perfect starting point for an episode of Inside No.9 an eerie superstition that lends itself neatly to the period setting of the episode.
Set in Edwardian Britain, the central figure in this story is Jonah Quigley (Shearsmith) a diffident piano tuner and classical music enthusiast who stumbles into the curse when he is called to service the piano of Lillian Burnham (Natalie Dormer) the widow of renowned composer Nathaniel Burnham (Eddie Marsan). Upon hearing that the sheet music was buried with the composer, Jonah hatches a scheme with the opportunistic maid Devonshire (Hayley Squires) to retrieve the symphony.
This is only the second period piece of the series (after The Trial Of Elizabeth Gadge) and is the most unapologetically gothic tale since The Harrowing. With its period setting, and uncanny subject matter, the story feels very much like a homage to MR James and Edgar Allan Poe, a thought that is reinforced by the reference to “The Conqueror Worm.” It’s a beautifully filmed episode, with director Guillem Morales making the most of the sumptuous stately home setting. The shot composition is striking throughout, and the staging is wonderfully unnerving, as it allows figures to slowly appear in the background. Pemberton and Shearsmith also continue to demonstrate their customary flair for wordplay and arcane dialogue – shown best in the explanation of the curse, delivered by Dickie Van Aas (Pemberton) in a deliciously arch manner.
The series has always had a preference for horror, but I think only Dead Line beats this episode in terms of sheer spine-chilling terror. The apparition that haunts the composers’ footsteps is my favourite kind of spectre. The tingling on the back of your neck that tells you something is there. The thing that inhabits your peripheral vision. The thing that is gone before you can even quite process what you’ve seen. The thing that is always there.
Christian Henson’s score, a staple of the series for the past nine seasons, takes centre stage here, and it’s a brilliant showcase for his work. Essentially playing the part of the ninth symphony itself, the music does much of the heavy lifting when it comes to convincing the audience of Burnham’s genius, and largely pulls it off. The use of music, particularly in scenes of heightened intensity, is incredibly effective. In the closing moments especially the score grows increasingly dissonant and agitated as it builds to near hysteria, a perfect accompaniment to what’s onscreen.
Of the cast, Dormer is the standout as the widow who may be more canny than she appears. She looks completely at home in the period setting, and the images of her in the final moments are some of the most indelible of the series. Appropriately, Shearsmith’s nervy academic feels related to any one of the terminally curious protagonists of MR James’ ghost stories, and his appearance – with kiss curl and wire-rimmed spectacles – bears an uncanny resemblance to the author himself. Squires is another memorable addition, giving the maid a no-nonsense demeanour that makes her effortlessly funny – the way she abruptly clears up her lady’s jigsaw puzzle is one of the few laugh-out-loud moments in the episode.
If I have a criticism it’s that I’m not convinced the pacing is completely successful. There is potentially too much plot packed into the 30 minute runtime. For the most part it works but the time jump is abrupt and in truth a little jarring, and I don’t think the episode does quite enough to convince the audience of the toll the curse has taken on the characters.
There are certain episodes of Inside No.9 that feel like the writers are consciously trying to wrong foot the audience, to lead them down blind alleys. With this episode, I get the distinct impression that they simply wanted to tell a straight horror story (albeit in their own customary way) in the vein of A Ghost Story For Christmas. Some will inevitably be disappointed by the fairly standard twist, but I enjoyed the slow burn feel of the narrative, the emphasis on atmosphere, and the restraint shown in depicting the horror.
I don’t know if this is the best episode of the season, but it might be my favourite so far. There are some episodes that almost transcend the premise of the series, and others that subvert it. The Curse Of The Ninth doesn’t do either of these. But that really doesn’t matter. The narrative may be fairly straightforward (as far as Inside No. 9 goes anyway) but the execution is endlessly impressive. Those other episodes are breath-taking achievements but they aren’t exactly typical of the series. A gothic delight and a macabre blend of silly and terrifying, this is one of the series’ most atmospheric, ambitious episodes and a perfect example of the show firing on all cylinders.
