Benjamin Britten's The Turn of the Screw is an anomaly among operas. The plots of most are so banal or insignificant that opera lovers are notoriously satisfied with the often glorious music and the thrill of elegant productions; the plot becomes merely a vehicle for the rest of the work. But Britten has taken the Henry James novelette and written beautiful music which emphasizes its essential enigmatic horror. The score is absolutely perfect for the story: eerie, elusive, with a constant undertone of brooding malevolence.

And the Lowell House production seen in preview Wednesday night is a success, although credit must go to the score more than to anything else. The versatile set by William Buckingham manages to evoke a feeling of Victorian dinginess and boasts a high tower for the ghosts to appear on. The lighting, by director Daniel Freudenberger, gives us some chilling moments when the ghosts do appear. These scenes are also blocked effectively, but at other times blocking is clumsy and even ludicrous--as when the children play a halting game of hobby horse. Much of the dramatic tension of the script is realized, however, and there is real tension when the governess and ghost battle over the little boy.

The singing sometimes adds to the splendor of the music. James Paul, as the ghost Peter Quint, can evoke lurking evil, great power, and blinding charisma with his smooth tenor, and gives a truly frightening performance. The governess, Jean Marshall, has an accurate, pleasant voice that is sometimes too weak; but it is her acting, not her voice, which makes us care about her even more than we do about the beautiful, corrupted children. Their main difficulty is that their voices aren't quite strong enough; and in the chimes scene, where their hymn deteriorates into a satanic chant, the horrifying words can hardly he heard at all. But J. Thomas Sullivan as Miles is so good an actor, looks so angelic, and sounds so pure, that his scenes are very moving even though we often have to strain to hear. His song in the schoolroom is a weird blending of dewy innocence and dark corruption. Carolyn Stouffer, Mrs. Grose the housekeeper, tends to be shrill, and her diction is sometimes muddy, in contrast to the rest of the cast. Carlotte Wilsen, as the ghostly Miss Jessel can be both terrifying, when she calls to Flora, and tragic, in her beautiful schoolroom song.

The orchestra, under Daniel Hathaway, gives a mixed performance. It shines in the andante sections, where its sound is full, rich, almost velvety. But in the rhythmic, percussive parts it is heavy and uncoordinated, and the strings are sometimes scratchy and out of tune.

As a whole, this production is a powerful piece of theatre. It is hard to imagine being as fascinated, excited and frightened by an opera as by a good movie, but this production does it beautifully.