The cast of The Mousetrap. Photo: Brian Geach
So you think the butler did it? That’s the long-running surmise to the identity of the killer in Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap, which began its run in London in 1952 and is still going strong (having outlived Queen Elizabeth (RIP) and Britain’s entry into – and then out of – the European Union). Now it’s in Sydney with an Australian cast and under the direction of the redoubtable Robyn Nevin. And even the most cursory look at the cast of characters will reveal that there is no butler!
Why has The Mousetrap, which started life as a short story called Three Blind Mice, endured for 70 years? Nostalgia, maybe, but it’s a good, old-fashioned whodunnit that has segued from being a contemporary mystery (something to entertain and cheer up Brits in the dreary postwar years) to a period piece that entertains with charm and, certainly in this production, with panache. It’s a classic, in the way that well-loved musicals are classic. Nothing to provoke granny or upset the children. You won’t go home shocked or traumatised, but you might be humming ‘Three Blind Mice’.
It couldn’t be more British. The setting is Monkswell Manor (maybe not one of the monasteries Henry VIII closed down in the 16th century, but let’s pretend), open for business as a guesthouse run by newlyweds Mollie and Giles Ralston (Anna O’Byrne and Alex Rathgeber). As the guests arrive, a blizzard is developing and news bulletins on the wireless refer to a murder in London, 30 miles away.
Stolidly complaining and boorish Mrs Boyle (Geraldine Turner); raffish Christopher Wren (Lawrence Boxhall), who is supposedly a wannabe architect; no-nonsense Major Metcalf (Adam Murphy); young, stand-offish and stylish Miss Casewell (Charlotte Friels) and very non-British Mr Paravicini (Gerry Connolly), who arrives without a booking and claims his car has overturned in a snowdrift, are the motley assortment of guests. And soon they are – in the way of these things – snowbound in Monkswell Manor. Cue the arrival of Detective Sergeant Trotter (Tom Conroy) – on skis, if you please – to deliver bad news. The London killer has two more victims in his sights and, he announces to the assembled guests and proprietors, notebook in hand: ‘Anyone of you could be the killer.’ Or his victim.
Not long afterwards one of the guests meets a sticky end. (It’s not quite Colonel Mustard in the Drawing Room with the Candlestick, but you get the picture.) Tenacious Trotter is determined to find the killer and, of course, everyone comes under suspicion. It’s all good clean murderous fun and I loved Trotter. All the British accents were good, but Trotter’s delivery was spot on, as were his mannerisms and his characterisation of the cynical cop who was on to them all, and knows he is looked down upon. Class differences are alive and well in this drawing room, which is a tribute (if that’s the right word) to 1950s design – and the skills of set and costume designer Isabel Hudson.
Connolly’s Mr Paravicini is also given scope for laughs – well, after all, he is Italian, and therefore suspect. O’Byrne is a convincing 1950s Mrs Mollie Ralston in her demure blue skirt and fair-isle bordered knit cardy; Boxhall’s ‘lost boy’ Christopher Wren is another standout. But all the cast play their parts well.
It may be 70 years old, but this Mousetrap – part sly comedy (all those entrances and exits verge on farce), part murder mystery, pure entertainment – is as fresh as the proverbial daisy. Nevin has fun with the Three Blind Mice music, the pace is tight and the cast all thoroughly believable. (Even if, in hindsight, a picky person could pick holes in the plot.)
Of course I can’t reveal the ending. But it’s worth finding out for yourself. ‘Three Blind Mice, see how they run…’
At Sydney’s Theatre Royal until 30 October, then touring to Brisbane, Adelaide and Melbourne. Details at https://themousetrap.com.au
