Throughout the final weekend of October, The Grange Hall opened its doors to welcome Islanders into Hotel Le Grangé — a once-grand, now-faded hotel steeped in the glamour and ghosts of another era. The evening began in the main hall, where guests mingled over music, libations, and sweet indulgences, surrounded by a cast of curious characters who seemed to have stepped out of a bygone century.
As the night began, visitors were brought upstairs. On the top floor, Island actors summoned spirits through an immersive ghost story that blurred the line between performance and haunting mystery. The tale lingered in the air long after the final scene, as though the hotel itself refused to let the audience leave entirely behind.
Every corner of Hotel Le Grangé bore traces of the supernatural. The downstairs was transformed into a swanky 1930s-style lounge — complete with vintage furniture and décor sourced from Chicken Alley and Second Treasures MV. What was once a town gathering space became a smoky hotel lobby bar, filled with candlelight, chatter, and the faint hum of something unseen. Guitarist Peter Halperin serenaded the revelers while costumed guests, including Alison Hammond as the Bride of Swamp Thing, added to the night’s ghostly glamour.
Actor Mac Young opened the performance with an ominous reminder that “ghosts are among us,” setting the tone for the night. Musician Charlie Esposito quietly stole the show as he conjured eerie melodies from the theremin, an electronic instrument played without touch, its wavering tones haunting the hall. Alongside Young, performers Danielle Mulcahy, Shelagh Hackett, and Esposito delivered spellbinding scenes that drew gasps, laughter, and shivers in equal measure.
Following the immersive show, the boundary between performer and guest dissolved as the actors and director Brian Ditchfield joined the crowd for celebratory cocktails in the candlelit lounge.
By the time the final toast was raised, the spirits—both spectral and spirited—had fully taken over Hotel Le Grangé, leaving guests to wonder just what might be left behind in the quiet halls once the doors closed again.