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This is the stage version of Agatha Christies
novel, Ten Little Niggers, and makes for superb theatre: ten people
are brought to an island by a mysterious U. N. Owen (Unknown,
sic), and isolated there. They are all apparently guilty of murder,
though in circumstances such that the law cannot touch them. They
themselves and the island will serve as the court of justice. One
by one, and somewhat obtusely, according to the words of the rhyme,
Ten Little Indians, the guilty characters are murdered,
in a playful and self-consciously dramatic scenario.
The stage - theatre-in-the-round style - represents the island. It
is one room, furnished only with chairs, whiskey and reminders of
the rhyme about the Indians and their peril. Its words, plastered
everywhere, cannot escape the imagination; and on the mantle piece
there are figurines of the Indians, who one by one get broken. The
set reflects the unity of time, place and action, which makes the
story such effective theatre, and underlines the psychological tension,
paranoia and claustrophobic atmosphere between the characters.
Relations between the characters, thrown together, and who must at
the same time live with, and suspect one another, translate into the
dramatic tension. They are forced to discuss their intertwining cases
and the responsibility for the delivery of justice remains in their
hands. The play gathers momentum until a situation evolves where only
a small number remain, some emotionally close - two prove to be lovers
- and yet mutually accuse one another for being the murderer of the
rest. But the murderer is, of course, not an uninteresting outsider
or mad psychopath, rather one amongst themselves.
The play is beautifully executed in this ambitious production with
which it is difficult to find fault. The richness and quirkiness of
characterization, and deep understanding of human psychology and motivation
in all its complexity - for which Agatha Christie is renowned - is
conveyed well. There are strong performances on all sides and Lombard
(Nic Piachaud), Vera (Saskia de Groot) and Blore (George Norton) deserve
particular credit. They are also impeccable in conveying Christies
sharp eye for the dramatic and the humorous. We get it all: poison,
booby traps suicide, and finally a slickly executed staged
shooting and double twist, delaying the truth until the very last
moment (- have you ever managed to guess one of Christies murderers
correctly?).
I would warmly recommend this play as a great evenings entertainment.
It certainly beats most mediocre television attempts at psychological
experiment or reality/real life television as drama, and
proves, if you are in any doubt, that Agatha Christie is still the
queen of the genre.
Stephanie Kitchen
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