Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap is the longest-running play in English-speaking theater. Its original London production got its start in 1952 and is still going today. But you don’t have to go all the way to England to unravel the secret of its success. You need look no further than Santa Maria Civic Theatre.
Many of Christie’s novels have been adapted into plays, by herself and others. (Incidentally, this critic made his first appearance onstage in a Christie-based play at Lompoc Civic Theatre, playing the pivotal role of Sergeant Mellors, who holds the door open for the other characters, in A Murder is Announced.) However, The Mousetrap is her only work created specifically for the stage.
The setting is Monkswell Manor, a snowbound mansion in the British countryside. Giles and Molly Ralston (Iain Freckleton and Angela Hutt-Chamberlin) have just inherited the old place and are turning it into a boarding house. Foreshadowing the deadly events to come, four prominent windows in the backdrop form a skull pattern, and there’s another, subtler skull pattern in the design of the fireplace. There’s also a small figurine of a camel on one of the tables, presumably a nod to the production’s director, Larry Kaml (who also designed the set). Before the show officially begins, a “maid” (uncredited, but presumably Stage Manager Jennifer Hannegan) tidies up the mansion, providing atmosphere and humor.
As Scene One opens, we hear a radio broadcast about a murder in London. A man enters—wearing a coat and hat that fit the description of the murderer’s. This is Giles Ralston. He provides some of the play’s deliciously dry British humor as he reacts to his new tenants’ demands. The role of Mollie Ralston is pretty much at the center of the play, and SMCT regular Hutt-Chamberlin is up to the challenge with a strong, heartfelt performance.
One by one, the tenants arrive—and to the inexperienced landlords’ dismay, the boarding house begins to resemble a madhouse.
Ariel Wesler brings to life an exuberant, childlike Christopher Wren, dashing about the stage and clowning around, but he can also make us take him very seriously when the moment calls for it.
Mrs. Boyle is a portrait of exactly the sort of person you wouldn’t want to have as a tenant or neighbor. Judie Kewish wears a long face, shooting disapproving glares at everyone as she criticizes everything. Kewish’s performance is convincing enough that it’s a shock to see her smile when she’s back to being herself during the Green Room reception that follows the performance.
Aiyani Mersai lends a quiet intensity to the role of Miss Casewell, a tough and mysterious woman, who takes guff from no-one—including Mrs. Boyle.
Major Metcalf (David Pera) is the token “normal” tenant: pleasant, soft spoken, helping point up just how nutty the nuttier characters are. All the other residents of Monkswell Manor find him perfectly affable, and so do we. Of course, in a play like this, that actually draws suspicion!
Mr. Paravincini is the only unplanned guest. He claims his car has overturned in a snowdrift and he happened across Monkswell Manor. He’s a flamboyant character, who speaks a thick Italian-Hungarian sort of accent and has a tendency to narrate his life out loud. Ron Kewish seems to have a ball playing him.
Both he and Christopher derive a lot of amusement from the drama that follows the murder, which not only makes them seem suspicious, but also makes the audience have a lot more fun.
Shortly after the guests arrive, a blizzard leaves them all snowed in, and once the phone lines are down (or were they cut?), the group is almost completely isolated from the outside world. Then a police sergeant shows up—on skis—with a warning that the murderer who struck in London may be among them.
In the role of the dogged lawman, Valor McConnell drives home the ever-present threat of death, and the chilling idea that Giles and Mollie really don’t know anything about these people they’ve let into her home. Perhaps they don’t even really know much about each other.
This production delivers on the all-important mystery hook—it makes us want to know whodunnit, and that curiosity keeps our attention throughout the play as we listen for clues and try to sort out the red herrings from the truth. An emotionally troubled heroine and a backstory involving neglected orphans lend some heart to the machinations of the mystery formula.
One of play’s cleverest elements is the twisting of the familiar nursery rhyme tune “Three Blind Mice” (which has some pretty twisted content to begin with, when you stop and think about it) into the muderer’s “theme song.” He-or-she whistles it right before a kill. (Perhaps Quentin Tarantino was thinking of this when he had Daryl Hannah’s character in Kill Bill whistle a spritley tune while on a deadly errand.)
When the murderer is (inevitably) revealed at the end, the performer who plays him-or-her undergoes an impressive but very smooth character transformation.
Kaml has brought a tight, satisfying mystery to the SMCT stage. And since each audience is sworn to secrecy “in the spirit of Agatha Christie” as soon as the play ends, the only true way to solve the mystery of The Mousetrap is to see it for yourself.
Regular contributor Brent Parker sees how they run. Contact him through the arts editor at scone@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Feb 11-18, 2010.