Written by Agatha Christie

Directed by Lucy Bailey

Review by Annie Aslett

Tickets from £13.00

The touring production of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None may well have wished for a slightly smoother kickoff as the curtain goes up on the opening night of their eight-month outing around the UK. 

Having already missed out on their intended opening night in Northampton due to an ongoing RAAC problem at the theatre, cast member Andrew Lancel then takes to the stage before curtain-up to inform audiences that the role of Vera Claythorne will unexpectedly be played by Nicola May-Taylor with about around hour’s notice. May-Taylor takes to the stage script-in-hand and delivers a valiantly nuanced performance under strenuous circumstances, receiving thunderous applause from the crowd during the final bows. If May-Taylor is required to continue in the role, future audiences are in for a treat as the actor becomes a force to be reckoned with as she settles into the groove. 

And so, to director Lucy Bailey’s production of Agatha Christie’s most successful creation. The original book is often claimed (by Agathatchristie.com no less) to be the best-selling crime novel of all time and has been adapted many times over for stage and screen, most recently for audiences in the UK in a star-studded and popular three-part series on BBC One. And Then There Were None tells the story of ten people – among them a neurotic surgeon, an ageing zealot, a reckless playboy and suspicious servants, invited by Mr and Mrs U N Owen (think about it) to stay on the remote Soldier Island. Each is accused of a historical crime, and slowly they are picked off one by one by an unknown force lurking in the shadows. The challenge for Bailey, then, is how to engage an audience full of people already two steps ahead of the characters. 

If some of Christie’s slightly more exposition-heavy scripting elements for the first act drag, it’s easy to refresh oneself with Mike Britton’s set design, before tackling the show once more. Sticking closely to the original Christie script and narrative arc, the significant highlight of this production is the simple yet innovative staging. A floor-to-ceiling swathe of diaphanous fabric is cleverly utilised, strikingly lit by Chris Davey both to divide the stage and to provide a literal barrier to allow the cast to move in and out of ‘rooms’, but also to facilitate some well-done flashback scenes, which help the audience to appreciate the backstories of our morally-ambiguous company. Distractingly, though, at the peak of the show’s drama, one cast member struggles to avoid the path of the moving curtain, a first-night kink that will surely be ironed out with time.

Another gleaming arrow in Bailey’s quiver is the fantastic ensemble cast of experienced actors. Bailey is reunited with the phenomenal Katy Stephens, whom she has directed in multiple productions at Shakespeare’s Globe. Stephens is scene-stealing as the principled and acid-tongued spinster, Emily Brent, delivering her judgemental barbs to her inferiors to much mirth from the audience. David Yelland plays Judge Wargrave with a quiet gravitas that inspires trust from the characters and the audience. Lucy Tregear and Louise McNulty (standing in for May-Taylor) draw layers out of their servant characters who could quickly disappear into the background. And Tregear, especially, brings a subtle physicality to her role that reveals her character’s feelings even when she says little. Bob Barrett’s Doctor Armstrong is convincing as the staid and sober doctor in the first act of the performance, although his portrayal of the doctor’s unravelling composure feels like more of a hysterical hand-break turn than a subtle descent into neurosis.

The murders are conducted to the letter of an ominous nursery rhyme, ‘Ten Little Soldier Boys’. Omnipresent on the table centre-stage are ten glass statuettes, lit from below, whose number mysteriously dwindles as characters die. Given that these props are so exposed, the fact that the audience does not notice each statuette being removed is a testament to the impressive smoke-and-mirrors nature of Ayse Tashkiran’s movement choreography, which requires deftness from the actors on stage to extricate them without being spotted.

Despite the unavoidable hiccups that the production has faced so far, such is the lasting curse of the theatre, the end product is an engaging and thoroughly enjoyable version of Christie’s story. The nuanced performances, simple yet bold staging, and some gasp-inducing special effects are enough to immerse even those who know the ending. Whodunnit fans can experience this classic Christie tale in cities across the country until April 2024.