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Stars explained: * A production of no real merit
with failings in all areas. ** A production showing evidence of not
enough time or effort, or even talent, and which never breathes any real
life into the piece – or a show lumbered with a terrible script. *** A
good enjoyable show which might have some small flaws but has largely
achieved what it set out to do.**** An excellent show which shows a
great deal of work and stage craft with no noticeable or major
flaws.***** A four star show which has found that extra bit of magic
which lifts theatre to another plane. |
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Cheers, or maybe not, with Richard Scott as Peter and Stephen Awre as Ross. Pictures: Daniel Beaton Strictly Murder Hall Green Little Theatre **** If you like your thrillers to be slow burners with a twist then sit back and enjoy as we open in the rustic and basic cottage of a lovey dovey English couple living the dream, a somewhat impoverished one it must be said, in Provence in the rural heart of southern France. She, Suzy Hinchcliffe, works in the nearby and equally isolated hotel, while he, Peter Meredith, is a minor artist, flogging his trademark poppy pictures to passing tourists in the nearby town’s market place. The year is 1939 in the hazy, lazy days of late summer. The idyll might be somewhat light of any hint of luxury but they get by. No more, than that, but that is all they want. The only problem, not that you can put your finger on it, is that something does not seem quite right – nothing really off, just . . . well . . . Richard Scott gives us a Peter who is not altogether convincing. He is the struggling artist living day to day, picture to picture, eking out his income with harvest farm work, joined on his journey of discovery by the love of his life. But why, after four years, is he still refusing to marry her – his stock answer is one day which is a less than persuasive answer. And why do we know so little of his past, why he is in France at all, and, perhaps, most worrying, he does seem to be quite an accomplished and quick witted liar.
Joanne Newton as wanting so much to be married Suzy We feel for Joanne Newton’s Suzy. She seems to be the nice girl next door sort who just wants her man to recognise the C word – commitment - needs more than a comment of one day to actually mean anything. Nothing you can point to but you wonder if one day is in a future that doesn’t exist and she is merely seen as good for now. They have a friend, of sorts, Josef, who is one of life’s unfortunates, somewhat more than the odd sandwich short of a picnic as one might say. He dresses like a Russian revolutionary peasant, lives in a semi-derelict hovel nearby and wanders around with a rifle keeping guard with a vantage point on a nearby hill. Guarding what against what we never establish although you suspect it is something that Josef has little if any idea about either – indeed, Josef doesn’t have much of an idea about anything. So, we have a guy with mental and memory problems wandering around aimlessly with a loaded rifle on guard duty guarding . . . something or other and popping up unannounced. Nothing to worry about there then. Josef struggles to remember anything but that’s no problem for Paul Hanna who gives an unforgettable, forgettable performance if you see what we mean. All that changes when a well dressed Englishman with the name of Ross appears, a somewhat upper class chap in the hands of Stephen Awre, who arrives somewhat lost after a stroll along a French goat track in elegant suit, tie, polished shoes and trilby. After a walk on a dusty track under an unrelenting sun he asks for a glass of water and slowly we realise his arrival is far from chance, or serendipity as he puts it. He has been hunting down the fugitive Peter, if that is really his name, for four years – time frame ring a bell perhaps – and has finally found his man, long arm of the law and all that, and we learn a little of the secret past life of the man we only knew as Peter, with hints of murder and escape. Ross might have found his man but if what he says is true the finding could create its own problem. Without giving too much away, let’s just say don’t drink and detect. Ross was no longer required after the interval.
Paul Hanna as the frightened , or is it frightening, Josef Ross Mark II takes his place in Act II, searching for his twin brother who we shall call Ross Mark I who mysteriously disappeared and was last seen at the Montmartre, the village restaurant, then walked off and vanished into thin air – or into Peter’s cottage as we in the audience might have noticed. While Mark I was a rather fussy and deliberate Englishman of the old school, Ross Mark II, who looks remarkably like Stephen Awre again, hardly surprising as they were twins, drifts more into Victorian melodrama style at times, which is perhaps the native tongue of the rather old-fashioned English Establishment officialdom abroad in the false peace of 1939. With Peter off autumn crop picking Ross Mark II and his colleague, Miriam Miller, played by a rather superior Alice Abrahall, take Suzy into their confidence. Miller is a higher ranking officer and, in fact Ross’s boss . . . and did we mention they were from Scotland Yard? No matter, the trap is now set . . . and all will be revealed about the so-called Peter Meredith. Which brings in that old saying about the best laid plans of mice and men. The trap works, sort of, but it didn’t take into account Josef with his rifle, demon drink again and a twist that will need a half decent osteopath to sort you out when you get home. This is a directorial debut for Emily Beaton and she has made a good fist of it with a decent pace and well defined characters. Richard Scott and Joanne Newton are believable as our hero . . . or is it villain . . . and his lady, while Paul Hanna bumbles around delightfully as Josef. Stephen Awre has the difficult job of making Ross I and II the same but different, with the first twin a more sophisticated version of the more serious, one might even say sinister pea from the same proverbial pod as Ross II, while Miriam Miller is given a rather matter of fact, unemotional, we have a job to do my dear attitude by Miriam Miller, who proves to be a pragmatist to the end . . . or maybe the end is really the beginning. The play from the late prolific scriptwriter Brian Clemens dates back to 2006, yet the language and delivery seem much older, almost Agatha Christiesque at times and you are free to look for clues if you wish but there are none that will guide you to the surprising conclusion. Julie Williams, Emily and her brother Daniel Beaton have created a practical set with the siblings adding some complex sound effects with a dodgy radio adding to the realism in what is an interesting and intriguing evening of murder . . . possibly, or maybe not, or . . . perhaps it could be . . . whatever, just accept it’s on to 26-10-24. Roger Clarke 18-10-24 Hall Green |
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