Written by Sir Ian Rankin and Simon Reade

Directed by Loveday Ingram

Review by Dominic Corr

Tickets from £25.00

It’s the end of the evening: the whisky, wine, and cheese. A time when the chatter is flowing, lips are loose, cigarette breaks are frequent, and games are played. Though, perhaps this host-imposed murder mystery is playing out a little too close for comfort. This new stage adventure for Edinburgh’s most popular detective, created by Sir Ian Rankin, here written in collaboration with Simon Reade, certainly captures that intrigue which audiences expect – with some strikingly well-performed (if under-developed) characters, but is it necessarily ‘Rebus’ enough, lacking that lump in the throat thrill and element of danger.

Hamming it up, the comedy takes a prominent seat in place of genuine suspense of mystery – think ITV2 Sunday morning rather than gritty BBC2. Not to say there isn’t intrigue, Rankin and Reade’s central mystery may lack a touch of the gruesome, but it more than keeps the attentions of a ram-packed Festival Theatre, the titters and murmurs as amateur sleuths running at full power. Not entirely misplaced, the comedy has a place in lightening the entire affair, though perhaps leaves too much of the lights on to really nail that chill some audiences expect.

Here, Rebus is newly retired, but expectantly unable to leave the past behind them – joining lawyer friend and one-time only flirtation, Stephanie at a party hosted in the lavish house of Edinburgh’s New Town – where money is no object, so long as you don’t ask where it comes from. Our host Harriet, a perfectly pleasant and unassuming woman, admirably performed with plenty of layers by Teresa Banham, has set up a post-supper murder mystery game for the guests; her second husband Paul; casino boss Jack Fleming; and Jack’s tech and social-media savvy influencer partner Candida. As anyone in the audience would expect (otherwise, they’ve come to the wrong show), things don’t go quite to plan – a body is discovered – and they’ve been killed in a way with some striking similarities to Harriet’s game…

Portraying the man himself, Gray O’Brien’s is a refreshing take on Rebus, a fascinatingly charismatic and engaging one which – oddly – isn’t showcased enough in the production’s shorter runtime of a mere eighty-five minutes. Inescapable, O’Brien’s rugged nature and enviable presence give a towering Rebus, one who doesn’t need to utilise violence and force a touch less than their tongue and word – though the languorous movements are a nice touch to a man who has spent his years chasing down ruffians, and a nuanced ‘thrill’ rising within them as they get to stretch their skills once more.

They’re a perfect match with the entire cast, all of whom do terrifically, especially with Abigail Thaw’s Stephanie – dry and sharp, brilliantly so, and playing a far more reserved and familiar sort of character that audiences will expect with a Rebus story. A newer addition goes to Jade Kennedy’s social-influence Candida, who rises over the difficulties of the shortcuts and two-dimensional elements of writing a social influencer for audiences. Investing into the role, composed but with a brilliant cutting edge where required, the gradual incorporation of Candida as Rebus’ ‘tech’ and shortcut to shifting the plot forward is effective, if a touch superficial, but given real life by Kennedy.

Prowling around Terry Parson’s effective New Town home (a touch Marpleish) set design, Billy Hartman’s Jack Fleming soaks up the atmosphere and conveys an ‘ownership’ in a scene-nabbing way – skirting the lines of being that roguish Rebus ruffian in every way. They’re much more comfortable than Neil McKinven’s Paul, who evolves their more anxious (in their own home no less) role terrifically under Loveday Ingram’s direction.

Safe, though certainly convincing in ways, Rebus: A Game of Malice sets a new board for a renewed game for the detective – one which is a degree of separation from the city’s usual underworld settings and crime. The plot may flow a little too easily with convenience and narrative fleeces aiding a bit too frequently, but there’s oodles of charm and plenty of convincing performances to maintain audiences long after the game finishes and offers a taste of a central performance which could be carried into further stage renditions.

---