“The Mousetrap” by Agatha Christie is in the Guinness
Book of Records for being the world’s longest-running play. First opening in
1952, it continues in the West End today, and is now also on a 70th anniversary tour, with this evening's performance presented by Adam
Spiegel at the Buxton Opera House.
What this is for a modern theatregoer is a piece of museum theatre. When it opened, “The Mousetrap” was nothing extraordinary; and there were many, many other West End plays like it. Over the decades they have dropped away, and their staging techniques have fallen out of fashion. Nowadays, “The Mousetrap” is the only survivor, and gives the theatregoing experience of seventy years ago – further enhanced by being in the beautiful Edwardian ornateness of the Buxton Opera House.
The set, which never changes, is a luscious interior of a Jacobean country house: so comfortable-looking and realistic the audience could be sitting in the main reception room with the cast. Snow is drifting down behind the towering glass windows. Quickly the characters arrive and are introduced: a young married couple who have just opened the place as a post-war guesthouse; a nervy young architecture student; a bossy matron who serves as a magistrate; a gruff retired army major; a strident young woman who describes herself as a “pale pink” socialist; and an eccentric yet musical man with a European accent. There is just enough time for newspapers and a radio to announce that a local woman has been murdered, before everybody is snowed in for the next few days.
A telephone manages to relay that a police sergeant wishes to ask some questions about the murder, before the line goes dead. A very young and rather gauche sergeant manages to make his way over on skis, and the investigation begins. One of the people present is the murderer. One will be murdered (live on stage!). And one is anticipated to be the victim after that.
Rachel Dawson gave a vivacious performance as youthful guesthouse manager Mollie Ralston, flashing around the stage with energy as she balanced dealing with guests with dealing with police questioning. Michael Lyle was the more laid-back Giles Ralston, not taking anything particularly seriously, and being pointedly middle-class. (The twee-ness of all the characters’ accents and demeanours did give this reviewer some extra amusement – again, this has all gone out of vogue!)
Shaun McCourt, and his mobile expressive face, was superb as the rather bizarre-acting student Christopher Wren. Catherine Shipton performed Mrs Boyle as almost the stereotype of today’s dissatisfied Trip Advisor reviewers, finding fault with everything. Todd Carty was a solid presence as Major Metcalf. Leigh Lothian shone as the spikey Miss Casewell, giving a haunted intelligence to the performance. Steven Elliott was the court jester as the mysterious Mr Paravicini, undermining pomposity and drifting off to play “Three Blind Mice” on the piano at regular intervals. Trying to get everybody to be at least a little bit concerned about their upcoming doom was Garyn Williams as Detective Sergeant Trotter.
Directors Ian Talbot and Denise Silvey handled the edge of farce very well, brightening up the traditional detective drama with lively interplays between the characters that were sharp yet illuminating. The atmosphere of a dark and wintry snow-in suffused the production, with vintage lights and sound effects crackling on and off, and a fire wavering quietly in the background.
During the curtain call, a speaker reminded the audience to not tell anybody else who the murderer is, to keep the production fresh for all future theatregoers. And so…… I won’t.
Reviewer - Thalia Terpsichore
on - 18.7.23
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