The BBC’s Number 13 (2006) delivers a slow-burn, unsettling adaptation of MR James’ ghost story, centred on a professor whose academic curiosity leads him into supernatural peril, writes RICHARD MARKWORTH
TITLE: Number 13
RELEASE DATE: 22 December 2006 on BBC Four
DIRECTOR: Pier Wilkie
CAST: Greg Wise, Paul Freeman, David Burke, Tom Burke, Charlotte Comer, Anton Valensi
Number 13 (2006) Review
In 2006 the team behind the previous year’s A Ghost Story for Christmas presentation, A View from a Hill, returned with a further MR James adaptation for the BBC.
Like its predecessor, Number 13 treads familiar ground, being a typical Jamesian tale concerning an over-inquisitive academic whose research leads him down a haunted path.
Straightlaced Professor Anderson (Greg Wise) arrives in an unnamed English cathedral town (the drama having been transplanted from James’ original Danish setting) to authenticate a collection of Cromwell-era documents for the cathedral under the watchful eye of archivist, Harrington (Paul Freeman).
During his stay in the area, Anderson is billeted at the ancient Golden Lion hotel. A somewhat pompous individual, Anderson refuses to accept his designated room at the summit of the building citing “weak knees” as a reason for avoiding a long climb up the stairs. He finally agrees to take residence of the wood-panelled Room No. 12 on a lower floor.
Anderson is surprised and mildly affronted when the hotel’s proprietor, Gunton (David Burke) asks him to settle his bill in advance. Gunton explains they have had past guests disappear without paying, including a seemingly respectable “college man”.
Later that day Anderson attends the imposing cathedral and admires the library therein. Harrington informs him part of the vast collection dates back as far as the 8th Century. He also mentions they previously had a Cambridge man helping them organise the library for a short time.
The professor’s attention is directed to a cache of historic papers, which had been discovered “in a hole in the wall”. Within this collection he uncovers various records of complaints against one Bishop Walgrave which state the locals were perturbed by strange goings on at the bishop’s house including “curious lights” and “unnatural cries” as well as the presence of a stranger who “comes and goes in the nighttime”.
Studying late into the evening, Anderson is drawn to the original hiding place of the papers. Fishing inside the aperture he discovers an aged parchment, its wax seal intact. His curiosity getting the better of him, Anderson breaks the seal to reveal a document bearing the name Nicholas Francken. It is an act which will prove to be the trigger for a series of mysterious and unnerving events.
Anderson returns the sheet to its hiding place just as Harrington arrives to inform him, he is closing for the night. Back at the Golden Lion, Anderson dresses for dinner pausing to study the print of Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights which hangs in his room. The painting’s wanton imagery seems a point of fascination to the buttoned-down historian.
On his way to dinner Anderson encounters fellow guest, lawyer Edward Jenkins (Tom Burke) who occupies the next room. Jenkins, although perfectly friendly towards the young scholar, is a more earthy character than the staid Anderson. He noisily devours his soup to the silent embarrassment of the other diners, enjoys the pleasures of alcohol and engages in a liaison with the attractive Alice Goddard (Charlotte Comer) who is staying at the Golden Lion with her mother.
Declining Jenkins’ offer of an after-dinner cigar, Anderson retires to bed but finds his sleep plagued by vivid dreams. Finally, he is awakened from his fitful slumber by the sound of male and female laughter seemingly emanating from the adjacent room. Believing Jenkins to be the culprit he pounds on the adjoining wall to exact silence and attempts to return to sleep. However, a shadowy figure materialises in his room by the Bosch print. It fades back to nothingness after lurking for a few menacing moments.
The next morning Anderson spies a board listing the various visitors and their respective rooms on display at the reception area. He notes there is no Room 13 in the hotel, with his neighbour, Jenkins, assigned to Room 14. He questions the porter but receives only a blank look in reply.
Back at the cathedral, Anderson attempts to retrieve the Francken paper but is unable to locate it. Harrington, having been silently observing his actions, surprises him. Their conversation returns to the colourful subject of Bishop Walgrave. Anderson raises the name Nicholas Francken, but the archivist denies any knowledge of the man.
Anderson resolves to study the Diocese records to seek further information on the bishop and, during his investigations, discovers a record pertaining to the 1647 witch trials with the name Matthew Hopkins, the infamous Witchfinder General, prominent therein.
Further reading identifies the manuscript as the confession of one Ann Mundy who claimed to have been taken to a local house where she was presented to the devil’s emissary, a “foreign man” who conjured evil spirits and bade her “make covenant with the devil”. It claims the house belonged to Bishop Walgrave himself with the diabolical emissary being none other than Nicholas Francken. Hardly the type of company befitting a man of the cloth.
Back at the Golden Lion the stuffy Anderson heads upstairs for an early night after taking umbrage at the blatant flirtation between Jenkins and Alice. However, his peace is once again shattered by laughter and the sounds of movement next door. His frustrated knocking is ignored and the volume of the disturbance increases causing Anderson to visit the adjacet room to complain.
Bafflingly, Anderson’s struck match reveals the door next to his own now displays the number 13. Sinister, barely discernible, whispers can be heard issuing from the room’s interior. As Anderson steels himself to try the doorhandle an inebriated Jenkins appears and enters the room as a relieved Anderson conceals himself in the shadows.
The following morning, Anderson notices the number on the neighbouring room is once again 14. He checks the number plate only to find it solidly screwed in place.
On his way to the cathedral, Anderson encounters Harrington who informs him he is relieving him of his duties as the Dean is “a little concerned about where your enquiries are heading”. Furthermore, their tense exchange confirms Bishop Walgrave’s witch house still exists.
His suspicions aroused, Anderson seeks out Gunton and asks him to make good on his previous offer to share his knowledge of local history. Gunton discloses the, not particularly surprising, fact the Golden Lion was once the home of the unholy clergyman, and his devilish companion Francken. He states the former had been arrested and interred in the Tower by Parliament men whilst the latter had allegedly vanished into thin air when fired upon.
While waiting for the Innkeeper to visit him in his room to continue their discussion, Anderson is assailed by the rising sound of more disembodied voices and the manifestation of the shadow figure.
As the supernatural activity builds to a crescendo Anderson, assisted by Gunton and Jenkins, finds himself forced to confront the dreadful occupant of the impossible Room 13 and learn the fate of the missing Cambridge man.
Although Number 13 fails to provide any full-bloodied scares, it is an intriguing occult drama, containing a sense of creeping unease. Its theme of centuries old evil materialising in the present and hints of an ecclesiastical cover-up both contribute to the headiness of the brew.
Even though the plot tends slightly towards predictability, director Pier Wilkie successfully manages to build a sense of anticipation in the audience as we await the consequences of Anderson prying into the past, and the increasingly disconcerting nocturnal incidents suffered by the protagonist are handled satisfactorily.
The cast fit their roles well and the juxtaposition of Wise’s priggish, repressed Anderson and Burke’s worldly sensualist Jenkins is particularly effective.
Whilst it is unlikely to induce genuine terror, the production does hold the ability to burrow under one’s skin and proves an enjoyably chilling watch on a dark winter’s night.
Should you have any immediate plans for an overnight stay in a historic town, this episode may just convince you to plump for a Travelodge.
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