I can't say that I am an opera connoisseur yet-I mean, I've only gone to one other opera in my entire life. But I know the traditional opera structural set-up for sure: the main characters encounter some sort of obstacle, they sing-talk all of the dialogue, then occasionally someone will sing a 7- to 10-minute aria explaining what just happened right before the characters sing-talk about what just happened again, then move on. It makes sense. This circular tradition has worked for many years in the past and persisted into the 20th century because of its usefulness. With The Turn of the Screw, composer Benjamin Britten decided that he wanted to toss those old ideals and rework the tradition into a new-fangled thing that could have been a musical sung like an opera or an opera written like a musical. But in spite of the strange twists wrought into the traditional structure of an opera, it works. The Turn of the Screw, as staged by the Boston Lyric Opera, was an experience for the senses: it was musically excellent, visually stunning and sent shivers up the spine. The story is based on a novella by the American author Henry James in which a governess to two orphaned children discovers some weird goings-on afoot. She sees strange figures in the window and around the home: a handsome man and a woman around her age. She asks the old housekeeper who they might be, and in horror the housekeeper declares them to be Peter Quint, the former valet, and Miss Jessel, the old governess. That would only be slightly unsettling (they seemed to have a negative effect on the children) if it weren't for the fact that they were both dead. The current governess is now determined to protect the sweet, dear children from these ghostly intruders and save them from the terrors that might await them.

Now, the hook for Henry James' novella is that as the children seem to be plagued by more and more negative influences, the governess doesn't know whether it is the ghosts that are doing it or whether it is really she who is going mad. But in the opera, it is quite clear that the ghosts are the ones leading the children down the paths of evil. The creepiness turns into all kinds of crazy here: The ghosts slowly devour the children. They do it through song, through playing with toys with them, even by physically enveloping them on the stage. They touch them, whisper in their ears, stare into their eyes. I was squirming in my seat. It takes actors of certain fortitude to withstand that without recoiling. The cast had that fortitude, and it delivered.

The acting was quite polished in The Turn of the Screw. Emily Pulley, the current governess, was warm and honest with her portrayal-until her character starts to slip further and further into madness, which she easily and expressively performs. The former governess, Miss Jessel, is played by Rebecca Nash, and the desperation and desire she shows feel natural and real. The housekeeper, Mrs. Grose, played by veteran of the opera stage Joyce Castle, is portrayed as the quintessential motherly and tender old woman. Her very sophisticated acting skills were quite evident, as is expected with years of experience under her belt. The two children, Flora, played by the adult soprano Kathryn Skemp, and Miles, played by child treble Aidan Gent, captured quite well the innocence of young children. I was honestly confused for a while as to whether Skemp was really a young girl or not because she portrayed the youthful role so well.

But the character that struck me hardest, and also had me cringing with discomfort, was Peter Quint, sung masterfully by Vale Rideout. I think it was the wooden expression that he had for most of the show; it was almost sadistic in its immutability, and when he would look at Miles with that face, I couldn't help but fidget in my seat. He sent shivers of uneasiness down my skin-yes, he was that creepy. And it was wonderful.

The musical aspect of The Turn of the Screw was, as expected, wonderful. The orchestra was impeccable, with an expressive conductor to match. The composer, Benjamin Britten, had many different types of elements going on in the book. I heard some pieces of the French Romantic tradition, some grand and march-like sections and finally the polyphonic, dissonant chords and rhythms of modern compositions, all mashed together into one strange but compellingly united work. And as usual, the voices of the performers were beautiful, strong and traditionally trained even for this untraditional work. One voice of note was that of Aidan Gent, a singer of the male-treble practice. I haven't heard a boy-treble before, and his voice was quite sweet and flute-like, reminiscent of the Gregorian choirs of medieval Europe.

I've never seen a modern opera before, so I'm not sure what my final word on The Turn of the Screw would be. I just know that when I walked out, I was not disappointed. I might have been slightly confused and shaken up by the experience of a completely different type of opera than what I was used to, but I was still satisfied. Gothic, avant-garde, and once again, all kinds of creepy, I didn't feel shortchanged by this modern take on a century-old tale. But I wished I'd brought a jacket to the Park Plaza Castle-I was shivering all night.