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Iryna Poplavska, Callum Balmforth and Jason Durr. Pictures: Pamela Raith Murder at Midnight Coventry Belgrade *** To be honest, based only on the first half, I did think of awarding this very mixed production two stars. But to be fair, the second part did warm up quite a lot, and an utterly dotty finale kind of won it better colours. This hopefully very capable company is Original Theatre (originaltheatre.com). A good deal of the actual acting here – this was the sixth venue of Murder at Midnight’s tour - was, well, OK, with some scattered moments that were bracing, entertaining and even slick. If there was humour, they did a good job of supplying it. The opening music was dreadful, the expansive brief blue lighting (meant to be sinister?) just as meaningless. The set (Colin Falconer) looked (almost) a shambles from the outset (it’s supposed to evoke five venues). An attempt at originality was made in the use of three levels, the uppermost only once used to (rather good) effect. Dour dark beige (light brown) sofa, stool, plus a strikingly ineffectual home bar, equally scarcely used, lent nothing. The central level, a study/storeroom/criminal den, seemed to have scant or at least merely passing point. Entrances evoked little interest. The thing about the flatly conceived, tamely invented set ‘a challenge that Colin Falconer has risen to magnificently’ was that the ground floor layout didn’t adjust at all from act to act, scene to scene. Nor indeed did any of those essentially static levels. By part two things could have been twisted, swung 90 or 45 degrees, readjusted: no such thing. The tedium of the set to some extent matched the early tedium of the writing (Torben Betts. whose Murder in the Dark toured widely, and successfully, starting in Birmingham’s Alexandra, in 2023-4. Midnight’s Director, Philip Franks, directed that also.) Mind you, Betts’ justification for what we got at the Belgrade reads well: penning, at request, ‘a rollercoaster full of action, visual humour and a twist at the end.’ And interestingly, ‘For years I’d wanted to satirise cockney gangster culture (I’ve always wondered why such violent people seem to command such respect in parts of our society). And this was my chance.’ Nicely put. And to some extent, she has achieved that - even if only to certain degree. Although, ‘quite comic’ aside, she wanted to devise something ‘very dark’. I’m not persuaded this staging came anywhere near the latter.
Susie Blake and Max Bowden Yet part of the reservations and doubts above, if justified, lies in the overkill promotion leaflet, which I shall quote: ‘A killer night out! It’s New Year’s Eve and a killer is in the house (not suggested). We meet a notorious gangster (not exactly, though smooth and suave), his glamorous wife (sexy, maybe), his trigger-happy sidekick (trigger-happy only in final scenes), his mum (YES!), her jittery carer (definitely OK), a nervous burglar dressed as a clown (YES too, definitely, perfect). Hence ‘A gripping murder mystery, filled with twists (scarcely), chilling suspense (only at the final scenes, if at all) and wickedly dark humour’ (scarcely). ‘This is the show of the season’ chimed Switch Radio. Scarcely... Entertainment Now suggested ‘Darkly comic, stylish and witty, just the right amounts of farce, frights and drama’. One of the slicker moments was when everyone rushes around terrified’ (start of part two: that was funny, even very funny. Fright, certainly. But stylish? I think not. The star of the show is Jason Durr, drug dealer, notorious gangland killer, loyal son. I’m afraid almost from start to finish he was, like Philip Franks’ production, dull in the extreme. Yet crucially his best aspect was his looking like a spiv, sounding mildly cockney like one (same natty suit all through), and behaving like one). Yes, a crook, but very small fry. A wonderful contrast with Peter Moreton, a burly friend and intermittently accomplice. Why is he so deferential to Durr’s one-eyed (some previous bust-up?) ‘Jonny the Cyclops’? When it emerges he is passionate (what a delicious surprise) about a horrified Jonny (ie gay), it’s certainly a comic twist. Splendidly, indeed hilariously done by Moreton, who betrays his hurt very painfully and remarkably touchingly even when wielding an (unsuccessful or pretend) crossbow. Some props (Robyn Hardy) were really quite good and natty. Despite its hope and aspiration, murder mystery it was not. Franks has characterised it – and presumably aimed for this, as ‘a farce’: ‘a revenge drama’ and ‘a darkly funny dissection of family life’. OK, when one character invades with a gun, it hots up. But the late scenes rely on the gun too much. The humour rests on it being passed around, unexpectedly and quite cleverly, from character to character. But the joke, like the threat, proves pretty thin. What further saved this, at best teasing and crazy show, if anything did, focused on scattered treats in the acting. Max Bowden made a nice job of the slightly hapless character Paul, togged up as a priest. One of the production’s naughty delights was when he and Lisa - Katie McGlynn - engage in an episode of prolonged bonking – the one successful use of the topmost room of (the hugely experienced) Falconer’s three-level set. There’s a laugh when naive Paul’s latterly the first to get shot. I particularly liked the way Iryna Poplavska created a sympathetic personality of the supportive Cristina: a young actress who made her way to London and the Central School. This was her UK debut, and great potential resides there. She is certainly a delightful find, with a marked and enviable gift for not overacting.
Some of the early fun was generated by Callum Balmforth, whose donning of a clown’s mask or headdress (this being New Year’s Eve, though only later does that become relevant). He creates a kind of psychological case, initially rather sensible if put upon, and later is the one who first introduces the ubiquitous gun. He arouses our sympathy, is entertaining in his shifts of mood, and proves to be one of the sanest figures in the cast. Again, he benefits from not overacting. He was worth watching, and listening to, all the time. But for me, the most delightful and intelligent performance came from Susie Blake, who played Shirley, the hilariously dotty yet also perceptive aged mother of Durr’s Jonny. Every time there’s a crisis or a bang she cowers so amusingly (usually) behind the underused bar. She may sound (periodically) dementiac, and her salubrious pink outfit looks like a nightie throughout, but she knows her wayward son like nobody else. But no fool. She looks and seems perceptive, not the sort of mum who would generate a petty crook. Skedaddling Susie Blake was fun to see and hear every time she l came onstage. Here was a real professional. The universal chaos in the final scene did indeed turn out to be funny and admirable. It was a hoot, and rounded off everything with the kind of zip (and relevance) that made this bit indeed whirr with excitement. Director Philip Franks has fascinatingly declared, ‘Not only the ending but the whole play reminds me of a Jacobean drama. It is wild, vivid and savage, and completely unafraid to put high comedy cheek by jowl with terrible violence… it ends with a bloodbath worthy of Webster or Middleton.’ A really splendid, interesting thought. A pity this was none of those things. Murder at Midnight runs at Salisbury Playhouse (9-14 March), Theatre Royal, Bath (16-21 March) and Darlington Hippodrome (1-4 April). Roderic Dunnett 03-03-06 |
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