By BRUCE DENNILL
Agatha Christie’s The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd / Directed by Alan Swerdlow / Pieter Toerien’s Montecasino Theatre, Fourways, Johannesburg
As proven by Netflix true crime documentaries, audiences love it to see people die. Oh, and to see how the crimes are investigated and ultimately solved, and how the guilty parties react to the proceedings. Theatre audiences are no different, with this play from Agatha Christie, queen of murder mysteries, being the fourth by Christie (or based on her books) in the last seven years at Pieter Toerien’s Montecasino Theatre – with all of them achieving notable levels of success.
This one makes absolutely sure that fans will know who is going to die by giving a hint in the title, and also sees the return of Hercule Poirot, one of literature’s most famous and best-loved detectives, portrayed by Alan Committie, whose first outing as the thoughtful, precise Belgian in Black Coffee last year suggested how good a fit he is for a character who has become a career cornerstone for several excellent actors, including David Suchet, Peter Ustinov and, more recently, Kenneth Branagh.
Committie (and Poirot) has much of the first segment of this play off as the scene is set for a scenario in which his skills will be needed. Dr James Sheppard (Graham Hopkins), village physician and Poirot’s neighbour, does the lion’s share of the work here, acting as a narrator as well as a character in the greater storyline, and being a foil for a number of other individuals – including his sister Caroline (Dianne Simpson), Roger Ackroyd’s PA and Sheppard’s patient Helen Russel (Sharon Spiegel Wagner), a young man he’s mentored, Ralph Paton (Dean Goldblum) and Roger Ackroyd (Mike Huff) himself.
Once the no-spoiler murder (the title, people!) occurs, all of the rest of the characters and – because this is an Agatha Christie locked-room mystery – therefore suspects, are quickly made familiar to the audience. There is Ackroyd’s inscrutable, humourless butler Parker (Brett Krüger); somewhat flustered housemaid Ursula (Sarah Wolhuter); Ackroyd’s strident sister-in-law Gertrude (Louise Saint Claire); Ackroyd’s blustering friend Major Hector Blunt (Michael Richard) and bumbling local police presence Inspector Raglan (Russel Savadier). A dozen characters and, if we assume that the format can’t allow Poirot to be a killer, all potential murderers bar the victim and possibly poor Raglan, who doesn’t seem sure of much and wouldn’t leave the sort of sophisticated trail that would tempt Poirot away from his vegetable garden.
There is – as there needs to be – a great deal of meticulousness in how the significant number of working parts in this production fit together, and everything is wonderfully marshalled by director Alan Swerdlow. Dialogue is clipped and to the point, whether it’s furthering the drama or part of the delivery of one of many clever punchlines. The cast – experienced audience darlings and gifted youngsters alike – make both their big moments count and the myriad smaller details that make a Christie mystery intriguing suitably suggestive, while never giving away the skeletons in their respective closets. As the leads, Hopkins steers the story authoritatively and Committie covers all the ground between a deliciously delightful accent and athletic self-defence with a winning combination of twinkly-eyed awareness and imposing grit.
This collective excellence – including and supported by a production design by Denis Hutchinson that reveals different elements as the show goes on, impeccable costumes by Margo Snoyman and plot-enhancing sound recordings by Adam Howard – means the inevitable twist in the tale sucks the breath out of the room; a marker that Christie’s original storytelling, Mark Shanahan’s stage adaptation and this hugely entertaining new production have all achieved their storytelling goal.