(reviewed at the Suffolk Summer Theatre, Southwold on 20 July)
You know that a thriller with Brian Clemens and Dennis Spooner as its writers is going to offer audiences a clever and slick couple of hours entertainment. This comedy thriller is no exception; but you do need to concentrate to keep the tangles of the plot from knotting themselves inextricably in your brain.
The plot in question involves two couples, the girl-friend of one husband and a beached-up writer of murder mysteries. Max Harrington, by his own admission a second-rate research chemist, and his wife Janet have bought a farmhouse on a minute and very remote Greek island. If they ever thought to live “the good life” there, that dream has already crumbled into dust. Just like the farm’s soil.
Neighbour and thriller writer Edgar Chambers has found inspiration as lacking as the Harrington’s farm’s fertility. Perhaps ouzo in large swigs might help. Meanwhile Max fancies getting rid of Janet in favour of the delectable Suzy Stevens. Then the Ticklewell couple materialise. Mary is vaguely related to Janet; her husband George is (to put it politely) a not very efficient lawyer.
They have brought news of a legacy, but who will get the lion’s share of the million or so dollars depends on which of the two women is the closer blood kin to the deceased. This is where everything really becomes complicated, with thrills and spills generating alternate laughs and gasps from the audience.
Director Ron Aldridge keeps it all on the move with Maurice Rubens’ set, especially the stairs, almost becoming a player in its own right. Sarah Ogley, a sort of cut-price Lady Macbeth in the making, generates much of the comedy with Harry Gostelow’s lanky, much-put-upon George her perfect foil. Rikki Lawton makes Max sufficiently personable to make his relationship with both Pamela Banks’ not-just-a-dumb-blonde Janet and Amy Christina Murray’s sexy Suzy credible.
And then there’s Clive Flint as Edgar. Edgar is a type many of us will have encountered in those places where expatriates gather. An author who is never going to make the big-time but gets by on royalties and churning out another pot-boiler whenever money for booze runs short. As far as the plot of Anybody for Murder? is concerned, he’s just slightly a red herring, but a very funny one.
I won’t spoil it for you by revealing how it all works out. Find that out for yourselves.
Anybody for Murder? runs at the Summer Theatre, Southwold until 1 August and at the Jubilee Hall, Aldeburgh between 3 and 8 August.