FIRST CLASS FROM CHRISTIE, LUDWIG AND BAILEY
This could have been a bit of a groan, like the overcomplex Rebus Game Called Malice , also on tour . But actually it’s a class act in every sense. Michael Maloney is a wonderful Poirot: almost my favourite so far, except perhaps John Moffatt on the old Radio 4 productions (a secret podcast vice on my dog-walks) . Maloney gives us a Poirot only gently moustachiod, prim, gently authoritative, his Belgian accent likeable, his Continental man-hugs with M. Bouc of the Wagons-Lits very endearing. Around him the multinational passengers, smartly dressed and befurred, from Sweden and Hungary and America and England but each with their own quirk and secret, gather round a bloodstained corpse at dawn, shuddering in horror (or are they??)
No villages or vicars here, not a Manor House or Marple in sight : this is the most glamorous of Agatha Christie stories, starring the Orient Express in its 1930’s glory. Mike Britton’s set and costumes revel in that: gorgeous panelled compartments swivel to be cabins and dining-car , sometimes opening out the stage, sometimes tiny claustrophobic scenes in its centre. Overhad a great white Balkan snowdrift traps them in their griefs and secrets. It’s one of Christie’s most familiar plots ( though at the interval some in my matinee row still couldn’t remember whodunnit). But without spoilers I can approve the fact that that while the corpse in the sleeper-car is not, it turns out, a figure to grieve for, Lucy Bailey’s production revolves vividly around another victim from years before. A child; it was the Lindbergh case which inspired Christie to this imagined aftermath. And there is something excellently respectful about the way this production evokes an old tragedy: a little girl\s imagined face ghostly overhead at the start, her voice heard.
There is also a shiver of proper respect in Poirot’s famous dilemma about what to do with the solution of the case. Mentioning an old murder at the start he reiterates his steely belief in letting justice run its course, bring a deserved punishment, whatever the provocation has been . And when he makes his final judgement we are reminded that this story lies between the wars: he’s a Belgian whose country was illegally invaded in 1914. Without laws, the old policeman says, we are all lost. For all the fun and thrills, that gives the production a thoughtful, sober edge. As you’d expect from Bailey as director.
All beautifully done, even if you know the plot. And as for Debbie Chazen, never mind her Calendar Girls Olivier nomination, I insist she should now play far more stroppy old Russian princesses. She’s priceless.
rating 4
https://www.murderontheorientexpressplay.com Touring to 25 april 2024 – Plymouth now!
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