LESS IS certainly more in The Woman In Black, a chilling film version of the celebrated novel by Susan Hill, which has been re-imagined as a television movie, a radio series and a hit stage play in the 30 years since its publication.

Working from a screenplay by Jane Goldman, director James Watkins delivers a cinematic ghost train that plunges us into the eerie silence of a haunted house as the film's mutton-chopped hero nervously wanders corridors with a flickering lamp to light the way.

Expectations of unspeakable horrors around each darkened corner play havoc with our frayed nerves and Watkins orchestrates some nice scares, accompanied by deafening bursts of composer Marco Beltrami's discordant score.

The decision to forego dialogue to concentrate on old-fashioned horror traditions is refreshing and renders leading man Daniel Radcliffe mute for extended periods, which is no bad thing.

In his first major role since hanging up his wand as Harry Potter, the 22-year-old actor is as wooden as the creaky floorboards in the godforsaken mansion and as soulless as the titular spectre.

His character's emotional torment fails to translate from the script to his inexpressive face and it's hard to accept Radcliffe as the doting father of a young son.

Radcliffe's failings are highlighted by lively performances from Ciaran Hinds and Janet McTeer.

Disappointingly, the denouement errs heavily towards sentiment when much of the rest of the film has been permeated by dread.