This is a delightful mix of comedy and intrigue.
The film many people know – the one starring Grace Kelly and directed by Alfred Hitchcock – was adapted from a play by Frederick Knott. This version, directed by Mark Kilmurry, is an adaption by Jeffrey Hatcher of that original play.
It’s a classic thriller. I’ll avoid any plot details because it’s so easy to land in spoiler territory. I’ll simply suggest it’s the story of the supposed perfect murder.
Of course, thrillers are not everyone’s cup of tea. Though they’re tales of the most violent crimes, they too commonly function as little more than mind puzzles; like a type of dementia-delaying-sudoku, they exercise our brain but never our empathy.
And thrillers often seem so very untruthful. This is partly because they’re peopled with characters who have the skill and intelligence to meticulously plan the perfect murder, but who seem entirely bereft of the irrational passion that might lead them to bother in the first place.
Thrillers also seem untruthful because their characters talk far too much about the truth. THIS is WHAT happened. THIS is WHO dunnit. THIS is HOW they did it. Truth assertions like these are much rarer in Life than thrillers would have us believe. Pass the salt is far more common an utterance than THIS is the salt. In Life, definitive statements of truth are rare, and the sane amongst us know that rarity doesn’t automatically equate with value.
But, as I suggested, this is a classic thriller – structured in such an amazingly intricate way that it’s a joy to watch unfold. (Everyone has seen those wizards of triviality who line up dominoes in the most elaborate, surprising patterns: the final flick doesn’t result in fine art, but it does make for pure fun.)
And Kilmurry creates a fascinating world in which tight suspense is tempered by the tickle of humour. Anna Samson successfully combines a bewildered terror with a bewitching mischief. Garth Holcombe as her husband is gloriously coldblooded, divertingly duplicitous, and hilariously insincere. Kenneth Moraleda’s Inspector Hubbard is a wonderfully worthy inheritor of one of the grand tropes of the genre: the master professional who deliberately invites underestimation. Suave but goofy, seemingly innocuous but oh-so-persistent – it’s a terrific performance.
Paul Gilchrist
Dial M For Murder by Frederick Knott, adapted by Jeffrey Hatcher
at Ensemble until 11 Jan
Theatre Red 