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Night train: Michael Maloney as Poirot left,, Simon Cotton as Samuel Ratchett and Christine Kavanagh as Helen Hubbard Murder on the Orient Express The Alexandra Theatre ***** Take one of Agatha Christie’s, indeed one of the the world’s most celebrated murder mysteries, add some delightful humour, the sumptuous elegance of a bygone age, provide a masterclass in imaginative and brilliant set design, all done at 21st century pace and using modern techniques and the result is theatrical magic. We start in Istanbul, the date 1934, with passengers assembling for the most famous, most luxurious train of all time, The Orient Express from Istanbul to London, a three or four day journey through what are now seven European countries. Among the passengers, heading to London at the request of Scotland Yard is Belgian detective extraordinaire Hercule Poirot and Michael Maloney's portrayal is central to the entire production. He endows the character with many of the traditional and familiar mannerisms described by Christie, but without aping the likes of David Suchet’s trademark walk. His Poirot is a complex character with more depth than we have come to expect. He is the international celebrity detective, a man for whom truth and justice are twin mantras, but we also see the moral dilemmas he faces when justice is not as simple or straightforward as it might seem. What is Justice after all? It is a dilemma you suspect he will carry for life. It is an interpretation to create a fuller, more nuanced Poirot, a necessity for a character tasked with carrying the entire production. Maloney is aided by a fine ensemble cast who we first come across either in the dining room of the luxurious Tokatlıyan Hotel or rushing to catch the train, so, ladies first, we had Christine Kavanagh as the rather outrageous American Helen Hubbard who seems to collect husbands as others collect stamps and she shows delicious timing in delivering her lines often with lovely asides such as one husband not being strong on longevity, or telling a man he reminds her of her husband. “Which one?” he asks. “The next one!” she replies . . .
Paul Keating as Hector MacQueen, Bob Barrett as Monsieur Bouc and Michael Maloney as Poirot Then there is Mila Carter as the not quite aloof as she seems, graceful and somewhat mysterious Hungarian Countess Elena Andreny who, by luck, when it came to postmortems later, has a medical degree, but we are getting ahead of ourselves. Staying in Eastern Europe we find Debbie Chazen as the rather cranky exiled Russian Princess Dragomiroff who carries the remnants of her once absolute authority in the days of the Czar with an acerbic wit to bring a few more laughs to proceedings. The only subject the Princess rules over these days is Greta Ohlsson, a Swedish missionary saving children in Africa, played, nervously and God willing, by Rebecca Charles, who, when she is not praying or crossing herself, is the Princess’s bag carrier and anything else her highness needs. More normal among the passengers was Iniki Mariano’s Mary Debenham, an English governess returning home after a year in Baghdad, and who seems to have a rather more than casual, just met friendship with the Colonel – we never did find out his name – ex-Indian army, played by Rishi Rian, protective of Mary and with quite a temper. Then there was Simon Cotton as Samuel Ratchett, your everyday, all-American gangster, in the 1930’s traditional hood winter uniform of fur coat. He adds a little spice when he comes across the countess and adds a little mystery when he tries to employ Poirot. As he is not going to make it as far as the second act, catch him while you can . . . just saying. Strangely he employs a secretary, like, well, a real secretary, not a broad or a moll, not an enforcer, or muscle, but a real, writes letters, arranges the diary secretary in the shape of Paul Keating as the mild-mannered, Hector MacQueen. There are other passengers of course, but these are the only ones we come across along with Jean-Baptiste Fillon, the prim and proper conductor and Monsieur Bouc, Poirot’s longtime friend and director of the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits, The International Sleeping Car Company, which operates the train. The overriding concern of Bob Barrett’s Bouc, ever the businessman, was the commercial effects of a murder on the train, the murder hardly being a spoiler given the play’s title, the mystery being how a certain American gangster was found dead in his bed with a surfeit of stab wound, a question we rely on Poirot to answer.
Michael Maloney as Poirot and Simon Cotton as the gangster Samuel Ratchett. Picture: Manuel Harlan The suspect pool is somewhat limited as the murder occurred as the famous train was stuck in a snowdrift somewhere between the railway hub of Vinkovci and Brod in Yugoslavia, now Croatia. And muddying the waters, or dirtying the pristine snow in this case, was a charred note found near the murder victim, declaring: “remember Daisy Armstrong” . . . so, what, if anything, had a kidnap murder of three-year-old girl in Long Island in 1930, a killing leading to four more deaths, have to do with it? Christie, after all, was a master of red herrings. As there were no footprints in the snow no one could have arrived or left, so, Poirot knew the killer had to be among the guests and that is where the play really starts. We have met the guests, the director, the conductor, we are on The Orient Express and there has been a murder, so sit back and enjoy as the layers of evidence and speculation are peeled away one by one. The cast do a brilliant job of bringing their characters to life, highlighting their contrasts, and quietly building up the pace, the train might be stopped but the story picks up speed under the vastly experienced Lucy Bailey’s precise direction while Mike Britton’s set deign deserves its own curtain call. The basic set is a train, not just any train, but the sumptuous, no expense spared, Orient Express. The main body of the train is on a revolve so we can see both the corridor and, 180 degrees later, inside the cabins. The front and rear of the train slide in to engage from the wings. It not only sets the scene allowing exterior and interior views but emphasises the confines of sleeper trains even in first class. Oliver Fenwick’s lighting adds to the mood and atmosphere while there is clever use of video on a rear wall and drop-down screen filling the top half of the stage to give us images of rolling train wheels and snowscapes with video designed by Ian William Galloway all linked to Mic Pool’s sound to bring the train to life, aided by that old railway standby, clouds of steam. Adapted by Ken Ludwig the production remains faithful to the original while appealing to a modern audience. The number of characters of the original have been reduced, some functions combined, which hardly detracts from the story, but it allows the remaining characters a little more time to develop in the time constrains of a play. It is beautifully crafted with snappy dialogue and adds elements of humour which bring a smile, even a laugh at times, but never detracts from the seriousness of the affair, after all we are dealing not just with murder but a classic murder mystery. The result is a treat for both Christie and mystery fans. If you don’t know the story it will keep you guessing, if you are old hands you will delight in seeing it unfold. The train is stuck in the snow at the Alex to 01-02-25. Roger Clarke 28-01-25 |
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