SPOILERS AHEAD. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
The play is a puzzle box of sorts, but none of its pieces are withheld. It’s all in front of you at lights-up. Hiding in plain sight. Expecting you.
Fate (luck? unluck?) brings Max and Henry to a cabin in the woods. They need help, so they knock. Inside, they find five children.
These children are hungry. Always. And must be fed. Must be cared for. And above everything, must be LOVED. They need a mother. Max. Raleigh. A thousand before that.
When the house calls a new mother, she is tested by the house, by the children, to measure her worth, her pain, her love. This is a cycle. One comes, one goes. On and on.
Men are also called to the house. What they find waiting for them is a reckoning. It’s fate.
There may be other houses. This one is called Grey House.
The current residents of Grey House:
Marlow: A machine, a bird of prey.
A1656: Immeasurably kind. 15, always.
Bernie: A thinker, a tinkerer.
Squirrel: Feral.
The Boy: Silent, watching.
Raleigh: A mother. A keeper. A force.
“Grey House builds up its tension through blackouts, loud, screeching music cues and people crawling out of the woodwork — literally — when you least expect. There's retribution coming, justice of sorts for a long, unforgivable history of male-on-female violence, murdered girls and the boys-to-men who get away with it all. At least, until they get drawn to Grey House.”
“Those interested in knocking on Grey House's door should know that it's much more of a psychological thriller than a classic horror tale. That's not to say it isn't scary — the production is deeply unsettling, and at times absolutely stomach-turning — but it relies on spine-chilling atmosphere, powerful use of sound and silence, captivating mystery, and unbearable tension that slowly festers across its 90-minute runtime. Audiences in search of jump scares won't find them here, but the play's dramatic conclusion — in all its sick, twisted, and agonizing glory — is well worth the wait.”
