The Mousetrap, easily the best-known of Agatha Christie’s plays, has run continuously in London since its first performance in 1952. For the second time (the first was in 2011), the Dunedin Repertory Society has been granted its famously hard-to-get performing rights.

The play has standard Christie components: an isolated guest house, a snowstorm, a bunch of strangers, none of whom is exactly what they seem, a dead phone line, and a murder. This one has a link to historical events with which almost everyone seems to be concealing some sort of connection. Someone must have done it, and after many, many plot convolutions, insinuations, suspicions and false leads, we find out who it was. The surprisingly unguessable ending is a secret faithfully kept by audiences over the last seven decades.

The Dunedin Repertory Society’s production has been ably directed by Dylan Shield.

All performances are highly capable: Kimberley Buchan as the guest house’s eager but inexperienced hostess, Alfie Richardson as her ungracious husband, Zac Henry suitably foppish as an insecure, dandyish architect, Terry MacTavish as an imperious judge, Brent Caldwell as a hearty British major, Rosie Collier as an independent young woman, Andrew Wicken as an expressive Italian, and Chris Cook as a skiing detective.

The set, depicting the interior of Monkswell Manor, is adequate, if not particularly inspired. Costumes are true to the period, right down to the tweed coats and the seamed nylons.

A nice touch was the provision, in the interval, of a well-known toasted cheesy treat.

About 50 people enjoyed the socially distanced opening on Thursday evening, taking advantage of an all-too-rare (thanks to Covid) opportunity for a night at the theatre and joining the millions who have already seen The Mousetrap. The season, ending on 28 May, is already sold out.

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When newby hoteliers, Mollie and Giles Ralston (Kimberley Buchan and Alfie Richardson), welcome their first ever guests, they admit something’s awry: every one of them is eccentric, disagreeable even. And amid a howling gale and treacherous snowfall, beside a crackling parlour fire, they find themselves snowed in. Here, Agatha Christie secures the cast in that fail-proof drama catalyst known to playwrights as ‘the crucible’. Some guests seem to relish the descent into chaos; the audience does too.

This whodunit—originally for radio, the programme tells us—has been in rolling performance for over 70 years at St Martin’s theatre, London, with no sign of it yet closing. Playhouse Theatre, of a similar vintage, is then the ideal theatre in which to stage The Mousetrap. Existing crimson brocade curtains inspire the seven strong set design/construction team. Their open plan, burgundy parlour boasts a glowing fireplace, a plot-essential-window and antique furniture. Incidentally, the fabulous, if volatile suspect, Christopher Wren (Zac Henry) can tell the genuine antiques from the fakes – to Mollie’s dismay. The five costumiers source no shortage of fine waistcoats, and a hat stand bears our first clue – a dark overcoat, a light scarf and a soft suede hat, cunningly revealed to us as Mollie helps Giles with his things during a broadcast profiling the killer. The 1950s set and costumes lay the ground for the highlight – the acting.

While theatrical, none of the actors slides into melodrama, each plays their part with authenticity and charm. As one of several characters with a dark past, Buchan’s role requires her to demonstrate a great emotional repertoire. She beams with good housewifery, asserts herself as a business partner, winces privately over the implacable Mrs. Boyle (Terry MacTavish) and in due course shrieks in rage. Able to supply the full scale, Buchan never dramatises gratuitously. Richardson accompanies her with equal confidence. MacTavish works the audience with her elaborate, sour accent, rolling her rs and pronouncing the word ‘cazual’. She jabs the slow hearth and the audience enjoys her charade.

Major Metcalf (Brent Caldwell) is unassuming and likeable, a top supporting character. Miss Casewell (Rosie Collier) is a brisk, charismatic antagonist, with an engaging discretion and energy on stage, a healthy bearing. Mr Paravicini (Andrew Wicken) gets away with naughty, inflammatory dialogue—in an evolving Slavic accent which improves over the course of the play—thanks to his fun and warm personality.

It’s beautiful to witness Christie emphasise the self-determination of eccentrics such as Paravicini. He refuses to answer the sergeant’s questions yet comes off not as obstinate but as good humoured. Sergeant Trotter (Chris Cook), investigating the case, has pages of enquiries to make. Each is enunciated squarely and richly, but this excess of clarity and emphasis makes Act Two feel somewhat drawn out. Varying his delivery of lines, he’ll go forward as an actor in leaps and bounds, gifted as he is with commanding and lively oratory skills.

Not only an intriguing detective story, The Mousetrap explores why certain characters strain to forget trauma, while others must examine it, and others still (the countdown begins) intend to avenge it. The play also questions the extent to which we can presume to truly know one other. Director Dylan Shield and Stage Manager Samantha McArthur do a wonderful job bringing this enduring classic to life for a full house and, to date, the secret lives on unspoiled.

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