DEATHTRAP
Cut
to the Chase at the Queen's Theatre, Hornchurch
28.10.13
production photo: Nobby Clark
To
judge by the gasps and shrieks from the audience, there are plenty of
people for whom Ira Levin's venerable pot-boiler retains its power to
shock and amuse.
So
no spoilers here. Following the equally successful Sleuth, it takes
the thriller-drama as its theme, in a self-referential,
meta-theatrical game of twists and turns. So well crafted “even a
gifted director couldn't hurt it.” Old-fashioned in the best sense
– Gaslight and Dial M For Murder are both name-checked – it
manages to produce goosebumps even in the most hardened aficionado
...
And
it's all played out on Norman Coates's amazing set – a handsomely
converted stable block in Connecticut, soaring triangles and warm
wooden walls. And all the trappings we might expect – framed
window-cards of triumphs past [“The Murder Game”, “Gunpoint”
…] an armoury of weapons from those same shows, several of which
see service in the gorier passages, heavy drapes at the french
windows, the partners' desk with its Smith Corona, a man-size
hearthrug, Houdini's handcuffs, and a stove to burn the evidence.
Matt
Devitt plays the washed-up writer, Sidney Bruhl, who seizes the
chance to revive his flagging career. A nicely developed character,
his facial reactions often brilliantly expressive, as when he reads
the draft of his assistant's masterwork. A Westport Macbeth almost,
“in blood stepped in so far”, except that here, the wife
[excellently realised by Anna Skye] has serious reservations about
his bloody intentions …
The
fresh-faced newcomer [Elliot Harper, looking exactly the part in his
check shirt and his boots] is introduced as one of the “twerps”
from the creative writing seminar – Bruhl's only source of income
these days. But maybe more than he seems, his literary ambitions
reaching further than life in the Welfare Office.
A
key figure in the plot happens to be staying in the neighbourhood:
Bibi Nerheim's dippy Dutch psychic, who feels the pain at the heart
of this household and brings resolution of a kind in the last act.
Completing the cast of five, not a police inspector but Simon
Jessop's “dull but sharp” lawyer.
And
what of the last scene – our collaborators, our partners in crime,
are at a loss. “They're both dead!”. Indeed they are, but there's
one last clue, one final psychic prophecy to be fulfilled ...
Devitt
and Jessop are the “gifted directors” here; they must have worked
on thousands of thrillers between them, and the way they manipulate
the audience, massage the [deliberately] creaky plot, use music to
alter the mood, is little short of masterly. Well worth a visit to
70's Connecticut at the Queen's, even if you saw Simon Russell Beale
in the West End, or Michael Caine in the movie, even, dare I say, if
you can't stand thrillers !
