Agatha Christie, now deceased and with no posthumous books being released now, is still the champion mystery author of all time. Her popularity has not diminished with her death, and so not only are her books still available but her plays are still produced. At York Little Theatre, her 1943 play AND THEN THERE WERE NONE is on the studio (black box) stage, where it proceeds as the drawing room murder mystery with quite possibly the highest body count of all time. Though it's been filmed twice, most recently in 1965 with American actor Hugh O'Brien playing a character intended to be an English military man, the theatrical version of the story is still not as well-known as the novel (and if you do know the novel, be aware that Christie wrote a different ending for the play - a very different one).
Novice director Ken Bruggeman delivers an enjoyable three acts of murderous mayhem at an English country house conveniently located on the inauspiciously inaccessible Soldier Island. Although the production has a few flaws, it's overall a fine time for anyone who enjoys a body or two... or five or more... on the Persian rug in front of the fireplace. Don't despair that Christie only has one death in the first act - the body count rises, as do the stakes (and the humor, because Christie's characters have always been wickedly funny), as the acts, and the weekend party events, progress. A game of CLUE has nothing on AND THEN THERE WERE NONE for an evening of entertainment.
Ryan Szwaja, playing Philip Lombard, initially seems just a trice young to be a British military captain with his mission record, but he carries off a square jaw, broad shoulders, and a "been there, done that" bravado quite well enough to put that fear to rest. With Rebecca Schrom's Vera Claythorne, the hired secretary for the missing homeowners - where are the weekend party's hosts? - he does his best to try to keep the largest number of party guests alive for the duration, and that despite... oh, shooting, poisoning, drowning, stabbing, and a host of more and less original forms of dispatch of the rest of the cast. Schrom's Vera keeps herself collected admirably until near the end, a formidable challenge when you suddenly realize that you're next in line to die.
Jeff Sneeringer and Claudia Shanaman play the Rogers, a couple engaged as the help for the weekend. They're the first, though not the last, to be at their wits' end - or their end, in general, upon discovering that the house's hosts, who had just engaged them and whom they've never met, aren't even home for their party. If that isn't a sign of impending disaster, nothing is. Andrew D'Agenais, whose Fred Narracott run the ferry, is a newcomer to YLT who shows some potential, and seems to have promise in character parts. Anthony Marston, a rakish young man with a taste for whiskey and fast cars, is Michael McGuiness, while the mysterious William Blore is played by theatre veteran, but YLT newcomer, Rick Osborn. Joel Persing is the aging General MacKenzie, while David Kloser is the nervous nerve specialist doctor. Jaci Keagy and Robert Haag play spinster Emily Brent and eminent jurist Sir Lawrence Wargrave.
Haag, whose acting career is professional as well as community, and who has played Wargrave before, dominates the stage - his Wargrave is considerably present and commands the deference that the others would naturally show to the chief lawman in the midst of a murderous crime spree. He certainly looks the part in all ways, radiating law the same way that Szwala's Lombard radiates action. Keagy, as Miss Brent, may be just slightly mis-directed; she's a fine actress, but as the character's priggishness itself is such a piece of amusement in the show, the appearance that she's also being played comically for humor on top of it seems to be - uh - overkill. Marston certainly doesn't give a fig - or a turn signal - for anything or anyone in the way of his vehicle, but he feels a bit too modern in his antisocial personality, rather than the social D-list idiot that Christie wrote; his list of associates sounds more like his cellmates than his partying friends when he mentions them. But these are comparatively minor.
For all the death, there's no blood or gore; this is Agatha Christie, not a modern horror movie. And being Christie, the characters are remarkably possessed in their language despite their mounting likelihood of impending doom. Prepare for a few shocks, for a gunshot or two (and in the studio, you're close enough to smell the powder from the blanks they're using), and the usual numbers of Christie red herrings and plot twists; however, an astute watcher, even one who's never read the book or seen the movie, may be able to solve the whodunit question in the second act... or think they've solved it.
Kudos to set designer Ray Olewiler for giving the Studio Theatre a perfect drawing room for a drawing room mystery, and to prop designer Cherie Taormina and prop master Dixie Smith. The house on Soldier Island does indeed feel period, and the props fit perfectly with the house. A home that's about to be the scene of a countdown to a multiple body count needs to have atmosphere, and this one certainly does.
At close to two and a half hours with intermissions - like most murder mysteries there are three acts - it's paced fairly well. The setup in the first act can't help feeling a bit slow as it's written; Bruggeman can't really avoid that. It's a common pitfall of the species. While Christie thought the book one of her most perfect novels, this was also one of her earliest plays, and for all its twists and turns it lacks the faster pace of her later WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION. If there's any serious issue, it's one common to English plays on American community stages - the accents. Perhaps one day directors will feel brave enough to tell an entirely American cast to use their natural accents and ask the audience to recall that the story is in England - while the various British dialects may be crucial to some turns of dialogue, as with Wilde's brittle wit and his wicked characterizations, Christie's dialogue doesn't really require an accent to make the lines work.
Bruggeman has the instincts to be a very fine director. As a musical theatre actor, it would be nice to see him turn his thoughts to that form of production as well, especially, at the start, with some shows he's been in. That he knows how to work with cast and with production staff shows; working with characterization is a skill that develops with time. We may look forward to watching him grow. Meanwhile, it's worth seeing his first efforts, especially for those who relish a dead body or ten around the stage.
At York Little Theatre's Studio Theatre through January 26. For tickets, call 717-845-5715 or visit www.ylt.org.
Photo courtesy of York Little Theatre
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