The opening play of this summer's Classic Thriller Season comes complete with sofa – not in its normal position centre stage but it's back all the same. This time the statutory source of drinks is a full-blown corner bar manned by a sloshed butler, Archibald Perkins (Patric Kearns).
A rattlingly good thriller, Whodunnit is a 1977 Anthony Shaffer play never before tackled by the Thriller Season company. It has all the dazzling cleverness we associate with the writer of Sleuth; and keeps you guessing to the end. In fact it's impossible to write about properly without giving the game away. Shaffer is indeed playing a game, arguably the chief object of which is to demonstrate his own cleverness.
We're in an isolated country house owned by Lawyer Silas Bazeby (Jeremy Lloyd Thomas), a dreadful stereotype in an extravagant wig. It rapidly fills up with more thirties stereotypes, all of whom he's invited down for the weekend and most of whom also have extravagant wigs.
A Rear Admiral (John Hester) with a booming voice, a sweet young thing (Jo Castleton), a cad with an eye-patch (Chris Sheridan), an aristocratic woman (Susan Earnshaw), a half-blind eccentric lady archaeologist (Karen Henson) – all these could be blackmailed by Andreas Capodistriou (John Goodrum) for being shocking stereotypes instead of for being distinctly dodgy. And that's as much of the plot as can be discussed. Post-interval, as twist follows twist and Inspector Bowden (Nicholas Briggs) appears, the whole thing is turned over.
From time to time throughout the play a disembodied disguised voice sounding a little like Alfred Hitchcock discusses the action and draws us into it. The voice makes it clear that he's the murderer. Can we guess who it is?
It isn't just intriguing and funny: the period set and some tableaux effects are visually stunning.
Alan Geary http://www.thisisnottingham.co.uk/Review-Whodunnit-Theatre-Royal-Alan-Geary/story-16617847-detail/story.html
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The auditorium darkens. Sinister chords of music strike a note of fear. A voice speaks from behind the curtains. The voice of a murderer, disguised electronically, taunts the theatregoers of the crimes to come. They are in for an evening of killings, twists and red herrings. But who is the foul murderer? Can they guess whodunnit?
So begins the first in a season of classic thrillers at the Theatre Royal. Whodunnit is a comedy crime caper, penned by esteemed playwright Anthony Shaffer. That’s right, the guy who wrote the brilliantly funny Sleuth. Like that play, Whodunnit is part homage, part pastiche of all those books by Christie, Sayers, Chesterton et al. Invariably set in the thirties, the stories are full of loopy toffs, not to mention an unlikely detective, as eccentric as he/she is erudite. Probably an amateur too, or worse, a foreigner.
Six guests have been invited to a posh mansion by a conveniently missing hostess. Her husband, Silas Bazeby, is at home but has never met any of them before. A drunken butler completes the roll call of suspects. But one of the guests quickly distinguishes himself - as a blackmailer. Andrea Capodistriou is a slimy so-and-so with dirt on every single person in the house. As he works his way around the guest list the sub-plots thicken left, right and centre.
By the end of the Act One someone will be brutally murdered. After the intermission Inspector Bowden arrives to solve a mystery that, as he remarks, seems straight from the pages of detective fiction. But then there are surprises and a very big reveal. Nothing is what it seems to be and the only thing that turns out to be real is the deaths.
The production boasts Nicholas Briggs (best known as the voice of the Daleks) as Inspector Bowden and he gives a likeable performance. The rest of the cast attack their parts with gusto. The emphasis is on humour more than suspense, and there were certainly a few laughs among the audience. The set, which never changes, is perfectly designed and somewhat reminiscent of Cluedo.
Whodunnit lacks the bite or depth of Sleuth, nevertheless it is two hours of fun, which will give a good night out to any Marple or Poirot fans.
Ian Douglas http://www.leftlion.co.uk/articles.cfm/title/whodunnit/id/4871
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Classic thriller full of twists and turns
The classic thriller season returns to the Theatre Royal, Nottingham, this week, with the first of five chillers getting the regular team off to a great start.
Whodunnit by Anthony Shaffer is a laugh-a-minute and keeps the audience on the edge of their seats and guessing until the very end.
The play, directed well by Adrian Lloyd-James of Tabs Productions, begins with the deep booming voice of a murderer asking theatregoers to join him in playing a game and guessing who he or she really is.
The voice, along with some creepy music, lighting and sound effects is very atmospheric, and is heard at random points, while we are introduced to the characters.
Set in the stunning red library of Orcas Champflower Manor, we meet John Goodrum as oily levantine blackmailer Andreas Capodistriou, Jeremy Lloyd Thomas as respectable family lawyer Silas Bazeby, John Hester as old sea dog Rear Admiral Knatchbull Folliat and Susan Earnshaw as dotty aristocrat Lady Tremurrain.
There is Jo Castleton as the sweet young Lavinia Hargreaves, Chris Sheridan as black sheep Roger Dashwell, and Karen Henson as eccentric archaeologist Dame Edith Runcible.
It is Patric Kearns who steals the show as the bumbling, drunken butler Archibald Perkins, who shakes as he walks, slurs his speech, spills drinks everywhere and keeps hoping everyone will try his zombie wammie cocktail.
Not everyone and everything, however, is as they seem.
There are plenty of twists and turns and a dramatic end to the first half — the murder.
Enter Nicholas Briggs as Inspector Bowden, a very unconventional detective, and his stolid copper Sergeant (Al Naed) who try to uncover the truth but are baffled by all the red herrings.
A very entertaining thriller with some over-the-top characterisations and some classic one-liners.
Next week’s offering is Murder In The Small Hours by Francis Durbridge — DAB. NEWARK ADVERTISER
A rattlingly good thriller, Whodunnit is a 1977 Anthony Shaffer play never before tackled by the Thriller Season company. It has all the dazzling cleverness we associate with the writer of Sleuth; and keeps you guessing to the end. In fact it's impossible to write about properly without giving the game away. Shaffer is indeed playing a game, arguably the chief object of which is to demonstrate his own cleverness.
We're in an isolated country house owned by Lawyer Silas Bazeby (Jeremy Lloyd Thomas), a dreadful stereotype in an extravagant wig. It rapidly fills up with more thirties stereotypes, all of whom he's invited down for the weekend and most of whom also have extravagant wigs.
A Rear Admiral (John Hester) with a booming voice, a sweet young thing (Jo Castleton), a cad with an eye-patch (Chris Sheridan), an aristocratic woman (Susan Earnshaw), a half-blind eccentric lady archaeologist (Karen Henson) – all these could be blackmailed by Andreas Capodistriou (John Goodrum) for being shocking stereotypes instead of for being distinctly dodgy. And that's as much of the plot as can be discussed. Post-interval, as twist follows twist and Inspector Bowden (Nicholas Briggs) appears, the whole thing is turned over.
From time to time throughout the play a disembodied disguised voice sounding a little like Alfred Hitchcock discusses the action and draws us into it. The voice makes it clear that he's the murderer. Can we guess who it is?
It isn't just intriguing and funny: the period set and some tableaux effects are visually stunning.
Alan Geary http://www.thisisnottingham.co.uk/Review-Whodunnit-Theatre-Royal-Alan-Geary/story-16617847-detail/story.html
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The auditorium darkens. Sinister chords of music strike a note of fear. A voice speaks from behind the curtains. The voice of a murderer, disguised electronically, taunts the theatregoers of the crimes to come. They are in for an evening of killings, twists and red herrings. But who is the foul murderer? Can they guess whodunnit?
So begins the first in a season of classic thrillers at the Theatre Royal. Whodunnit is a comedy crime caper, penned by esteemed playwright Anthony Shaffer. That’s right, the guy who wrote the brilliantly funny Sleuth. Like that play, Whodunnit is part homage, part pastiche of all those books by Christie, Sayers, Chesterton et al. Invariably set in the thirties, the stories are full of loopy toffs, not to mention an unlikely detective, as eccentric as he/she is erudite. Probably an amateur too, or worse, a foreigner.
Six guests have been invited to a posh mansion by a conveniently missing hostess. Her husband, Silas Bazeby, is at home but has never met any of them before. A drunken butler completes the roll call of suspects. But one of the guests quickly distinguishes himself - as a blackmailer. Andrea Capodistriou is a slimy so-and-so with dirt on every single person in the house. As he works his way around the guest list the sub-plots thicken left, right and centre.
By the end of the Act One someone will be brutally murdered. After the intermission Inspector Bowden arrives to solve a mystery that, as he remarks, seems straight from the pages of detective fiction. But then there are surprises and a very big reveal. Nothing is what it seems to be and the only thing that turns out to be real is the deaths.
The production boasts Nicholas Briggs (best known as the voice of the Daleks) as Inspector Bowden and he gives a likeable performance. The rest of the cast attack their parts with gusto. The emphasis is on humour more than suspense, and there were certainly a few laughs among the audience. The set, which never changes, is perfectly designed and somewhat reminiscent of Cluedo.
Whodunnit lacks the bite or depth of Sleuth, nevertheless it is two hours of fun, which will give a good night out to any Marple or Poirot fans.
Ian Douglas http://www.leftlion.co.uk/articles.cfm/title/whodunnit/id/4871
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Classic thriller full of twists and turns
The classic thriller season returns to the Theatre Royal, Nottingham, this week, with the first of five chillers getting the regular team off to a great start.
Whodunnit by Anthony Shaffer is a laugh-a-minute and keeps the audience on the edge of their seats and guessing until the very end.
The play, directed well by Adrian Lloyd-James of Tabs Productions, begins with the deep booming voice of a murderer asking theatregoers to join him in playing a game and guessing who he or she really is.
The voice, along with some creepy music, lighting and sound effects is very atmospheric, and is heard at random points, while we are introduced to the characters.
Set in the stunning red library of Orcas Champflower Manor, we meet John Goodrum as oily levantine blackmailer Andreas Capodistriou, Jeremy Lloyd Thomas as respectable family lawyer Silas Bazeby, John Hester as old sea dog Rear Admiral Knatchbull Folliat and Susan Earnshaw as dotty aristocrat Lady Tremurrain.
There is Jo Castleton as the sweet young Lavinia Hargreaves, Chris Sheridan as black sheep Roger Dashwell, and Karen Henson as eccentric archaeologist Dame Edith Runcible.
It is Patric Kearns who steals the show as the bumbling, drunken butler Archibald Perkins, who shakes as he walks, slurs his speech, spills drinks everywhere and keeps hoping everyone will try his zombie wammie cocktail.
Not everyone and everything, however, is as they seem.
There are plenty of twists and turns and a dramatic end to the first half — the murder.
Enter Nicholas Briggs as Inspector Bowden, a very unconventional detective, and his stolid copper Sergeant (Al Naed) who try to uncover the truth but are baffled by all the red herrings.
A very entertaining thriller with some over-the-top characterisations and some classic one-liners.
Next week’s offering is Murder In The Small Hours by Francis Durbridge — DAB. NEWARK ADVERTISER