Review of ‘And Then There Were None’: “Murder, She Unwrote”

Agatha Christie’s immortal murder mystery returns to the theatre through a new stage adaptation by Lucy Bailey. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this classic whodunnit set on a remote island ended up dead in the water.

Ten little…. Yeah, it’s always a dangerous territory to complete the nursery rhyme that inspired one of Christie’s most popular and adapted novels. A murder mystery dealing with the personal vendetta against a bunch of alleged killers, the work itself contains another enigma of its own: when will the group’s name become offensive and need to be replaced by a different one? This time ‘soldier boys’ has been the chosen one – so we might be fine for a little while.

Of course, none of this matters when it comes to the structuring of its plot – which, despite its slightly overdone resolution, I’ve always found fascinating and one of the few whodunnits I’ve been unable to foresee (Mrs. Fletcher taught me a lot). And Then There Were None may be regarded, to some extent, as an international treasure in the entertainment field. It has all of the elements to make of it an exciting, attention-grasping thriller that can keep you nailed to your seat all the way through. Revenge, savageness and slight philosophical doses questioning justice and morality, Christie’s original work paves the way quite smoothly for anyone aiming to translate it into another form. Thus, it comes as quite of a shock (or even, the real unexpected twist) to realize that something must have gone terribly wrong when this piece was last dug up and brought back to life (no pun intended).

Directed by Lucy Bailey, whose splendid immersive adaptation of Witness for the Prosecution continues to arrest audiences’ imagination at the London County Hall, the promises stemming from one of the most brilliant West End productions currently on offer are nothing short of high. But sadly, this production seems to break them all from start to finish. An oldie but a goodie, its well-known premise still brings the opportunity to create something fresh and distinctive. Unfortunately on this occasion, it goes completely ignored – providing us instead with a tired, unimaginative vision that not only does not regale us with anything new, but also compromises what we used to love about the original.

Parting from an, all in all, ineffective set design, the general vibe throughout the performance is, precisely, the lack of it. There’s no sense of danger or eeriness. And the bleak atmosphere we’re supposed to be drawn into is entirely nonexistent – resulting in quite a bland recount whose flatness makes it incapable of instigating any tension; let alone, maintain it. Every character has an obscure background leading to an even darker outcome. And yet, none of these features manage to shine onstage, due to the script’s slightly unnatural dialogue and a steep use of not-too-clever jokes which, instead of giving rhythm to its pacing, only contribute to halt it even more: splitting the word cocktail in two syllables may be a punch (of another sort), but doesn’t grant much of a line.

In addition, the acting feels either constrained or exaggerated, but never rightly toned. Many of the portrayals have difficulties to ooze any credibility – further separating us from a tale we’re already struggling to connect with. A few of them still achieve a bit of allure, this coming from Bob Barrett’s rendition of Doctor Armstrong and Katy Stephens as Emily Brent, but their intermittent brilliance is still not enough to make of this montage an interesting, compelling watch.

We know who’s done it. We know how they’ve done it. But the question raised here is why they’ve done it. A company preceded by astounding credits from both cast and creatives, this puzzling reality spawns much of a riddle as for how such a masterful work of crime fiction, taken by people that truly know their craftsmanship, ended up in such an inert state. I still like to think that they can fix it. But for that, they need to go back to the drawing board and develop something that’s closer to the core of what they were adapting in the first place. You may argue that its faithful to the original. And you’d be right. In the surface, it is. But it’s not that much about following the book, but what dwells within its lines, instead.

All pictures credit to Manuel Harlan.

And Then There Were None is currently on tour across the UK. Tickets and further venues are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara