Murder Most Fine

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE

Grand Theatre, Wolverhampton, Tuesday 3^rd February, 2015

 

The Agatha Christie Theatre Company revisit this classic mystery for their current UK tour; I saw their 2008 production but I couldn’t for the life of me remember who done it. Even if I had, or if you know the story, there is much to enjoy here. This kind of old-fashioned, solid entertainment provides opportunities to see some of our finest character actors doing their thing.

A group of strangers gathers in a large house on a remote island. They have been invited there under false pretences. Early moments are like the first night in the Big Brother house as they introduce themselves to each other (and to us) before the tension begins its slow burn, and they start popping their clogs. The deaths seem to be related to an old rhyme that in this politically correct age is now about ten little ‘soldier boys’ – everything else is in keeping with the 1930s setting.   The art deco architecture of Simon Scullion’s set is remarkable.

Verity Rushworth is the ingénue, looking fab in a range of Roberto Surace’s evocative costumes. Rushworth’s lightness has a darker edge; she pitches it perfectly. Indeed as each character’s back story comes to light, we see beneath the veneer of civility. Paul Nicholas is suitably pompous as a high court judge, contrasting with Judith Rae as the housekeeper, with her down-to-earth nature and touches of humour. Frazer Hines is an unpretentious butler (making him prime suspect for a while, of course!), while Ben Nealon is the dashing Philip Lombard, all scorn and flash heroics. It is an absolute treat to see Susan Penhaligon as curmudgeonly old biddy Miss Brent – someone needs to employ her as Lady Bracknell at once; forget David Suchet! These are character types you find in Christie’s plays but this experienced and skilful cast humanise them beyond the requirements of the plot. Upper Class Twit Anthony Marston is made bearable by Paul Hassall’s portrayal. Eric Carte is rather sweet as General Mackenzie, resigned to his doom, and Mark Curry makes an impression as the somewhat neurotic Doctor Armstrong.

Director Joe Harmston handles the material with assurance; he knows exactly how to pace this type of thing, not rushing Christie’s sometimes ponderous script, and timing shocks and surprises with expertise. The result is a comfortably intriguing night at the theatre. The company takes us for a bit of a thrill ride, slowly but surely drawing us in as the plot reaches its conclusion.

Great stuff.

Grounds for Murder

BLACK COFFEE

Grand Theatre, Wolverhampton, Monday 3^rd February, 2014

The Agatha Christie Theatre Company is back on the road.  This year’s offering is an excellent production of Christie’s first play, featuring Robert Powell at the top of the bill as Belgian detective Hercule Poirot.

From curtain up it is clear this is a quality show.  Simon Scullion’s art deco set is grand, stylish and elegant, and is matched by the formal evening wear of the characters.  This is very much a period piece, as evinced by a plethora of lines about ‘foreigners’ and how they can’t be trusted.  “They’re clever!” someone says as though it’s a bad thing.  It’s like a UKIP broadcast and just as funny.

Director Joe Harmston is a dab hand at this kind of thing; he knows how to pitch it just right for a present-day audience, having his cast play the cardboard characters as naturalistically as possible – We’re not meant to care about them; we’re meant to suspect each and every one of them as we try to solve the puzzle before the detective reveals who done it.

Robert Powell is a marvellous Poirot, acting with a quiet authority, assurance and wry humour – the play is funnier than you might expect.

The plot centres around the sudden death of a rich inventor and no one is above suspicion.  Company stalwart Ben Nealon gives a solid turn as the dead man’s disgruntled son.   Another regular, Liza Goddard witters and sparkles as batty Aunt Caroline – imagine Christine Hamilton in Downton Abbey.   Felicity Houlbrooke brings energy as bright young thing Barbara, cutting a rug with the dashing Mark Jackson as Raynor, the dead man’s personal secretary.  We almost veer into Allo Allo territory with Gary Mavers’s Italian doctor – but then foreigners are supposed to be dodgy – and I particularly enjoyed Robin McCallum as Captain Hastings, Poirot’s nice but dim sidekick.

It’s hardly ground-breaking theatrically speaking but with its fine blend of humour and intrigue and a cast that’s full of beans, Black Coffee perks up a dismal winter evening.

Going Bump in the Night

THE HAUNTING
Derby Theatre, Monday 26th November, 2012

Writer Hugh Janes has adapted ghost stories by Charles Dickens, resulting in a play that has a good deal in common with long-running West End hit, The Woman in Black. A young man is despatched to an isolated mansion for bureaucratic reasons and is disturbed by supernatural phenomena… Unlike its predecessor, The Haunting is more straightforward in its structure and approach and, thanks to Simon Scullion’s impressive, Victorian gothic set, has a more naturalistic feel. The atmosphere is perfect with mists and cobwebs and decay. Doors open and slam of their own accord. Books fly from shelves. There are plenty of ‘jump’ moments to rouse the audience and crank up the tension.

David Robb is splendid as the urbane, sardonic Lord Gray, a sceptic who is trying to sell off his late father’s estate, including his library of valuable books. There is a fey humour to his dismissals of the paranormal and he looks suitably dashing in a range of frockcoats and dressing gowns.

I didn’t take to his young counterpart in the same way. As the credulous book dealer, James Roache is togged up like Daniel Radcliffe in the film of The Woman in Black, but his delivery of most of his dialogue is off-putting; he attacks his lines like a barrister making courtroom revelations.

Where the play is let down is in some of the dialogue. At times they speak in descriptions, giving voice to passages from the Dickens original (“the house, pinched on all sides by the moor”) or spout the most florid lines (“I consider literature the buttress of pedantry”) that it is a good job the set and props are there to interrupt them before it all becomes too wordy and dense.

Director Hugh Wooldridge handles the atmosphere splendidly. All the old tricks in the book of old tricks are here. Drawn-out silences suddenly shattered by loud noises. Mists and shadows and things moving about. Disembodied voices and ghostly apparitions… And it all works very well. The mystery of the ghost story is gradually unravelled, and is not without surprises.

On the whole, this is an exercise in demonstrating the pleasure we take in being wound up and scared. It’s an intriguing little story, well-executed and presented. Special mention must go to Jonathan Suffolk’s sound design, which plays such an important role in putting us on edge. Well worth the trip, the production gives you that unique frisson of hundreds of people all being startled at once, and then gasping and laughing at what silly creatures we all are. You don’t get the same experience at the cinema.