Let’s face it, thanks to the many manifestations of M. Poirot, is there anyone of a certain age who does not already know who dunnit? It might make an amusing change if the train driver, bloody coal shovel in hand, did a bunk at Slavonski Brod, but that sadly is never going to happen.
So, for a packed house, the interest in this stage adaptation by prolific American playwright Ken Ludwig of Agatha Christie’s classic must be more about how they do it, rather than the who or why. And on the evidence of this show, the great detective himself might conclude—very well indeed.
The show, directed by Lucy Bailey, rattles along (if that is not to denigrate the luxury transport) at a lively pace, and is enlivened from the outset by humour, as the characters bicker among themselves, and by the odd literary joke.
Mike Britton’s set is cleverly designed with a rotating carriage that is adapted as needed to show from one to five compartments with interconnecting doors and a passageway and lighting by Oliver Fenwick that enhances the day-night drama.
Above all, Michael Maloney puts in a great turn as the Belgian sleuth and makes the part his own. Although dapper as ever, in sharply ironed suit, red bow tie and silver waistcoat, with a clipped moustache more David Suchet than Kenneth Branagh, he plays a man not lacking faith in his own abilities and neither averse to female charms nor unwilling to raise his temper when the occasion arises.
There are no weak links in the supporting cast of rather stereotypical characters, among whom Simon Cotton is the grossly unpleasant Samuel Ratchett and Christine Kavanagh the voluble Helen Hubbard, whom you don’t want as a companion for a quiet night in.
The show continues its tour to Truro, Newcastle, Guildford, Birmingham, Sheffield, Aberdeen, Southampton, Milton Keynes, Cardiff, Bath, York, Nottingham, Dublin, Brighton and Cheltenham until May 2025.