The Lowry is the first stop on the tour for Murder on the Orient Express, so the production is shrouded in mystery. The first question is how a train carriage can be squeezed onto the bare stage greeting the audience upon entry into the theatre. With tremendous style it turns out.
Detective Hercule Poirot (Michael Maloney) is at a low ebb, his most recent case resulted in the suicide of the prime suspect. But his sense of duty, or ego, prompts him to accept a new commission and, at the last minute, he joins the Orient Express to travel to his responsibilities. Once on board, however, Poirot is confronted by not only a murder but a surfeit of clues pointing to a mysterious suspect who is able to escape the train without leaving any footprints in the heavy snow. Or perhaps the murderer is still on board the train.
Kenneth Branagh, the most recent cinematic version of the sleuth, played Poirot as someone burdened by his supernatural insight and deductive abilities. Michael Maloney takes a lighter approach, perfect for the stage, hinting Poirot rather enjoys his celebrity status and is a bit of a romantic. Poirot’s (and indeed Maloney’s) pleasure is apparent to the audience, making for a warm setting for the play.
Ken Ludwig’s adaptation is daring, omitting several possible suspects from Christie’s novel, and so losing one (some might argue the essential) clue or motivating prompt. The dialogue has a delightful screwball comedy tone "you remind me of one of my husbands", "Which one?", "The next one." The characters are drawn from a wide variety of cultures, so narrow-minded attitudes, demanding directional signs be in English despite being in Turkey, are mocked mercilessly.
Director Lucy Bailey sets a conflicted atmosphere, reflecting the dark secret which prompts the murder but also continuing the genuine sense of enjoyment running through the play. The cast enter huddled together as if trying to comfort each other or recover from some unnamed trauma, and the sound of a music box sets a disquieting tone.
The dénouement with Poirot, in the classic manner, putting forward his theories in front of the suspects is a masterpiece of lucid storytelling as each cast member steps forward to offer snippets of clarifying information. Bailey is shameless in her efforts to push up the suspense—tense movements along the train corridors are enhanced, in the manner of a movie, by Mic Pool’s dramatic background music.
The most valuable player in the show is designer Mike Britton. An overhead screen allows scenes of howling snowstorms or highlights the discovery of clues. A gently revolving stage shows Poirot, in a restaurant scene, discreetly eavesdropping on his fellow passengers. More significantly, when the train carriages enter the stage, the revolving set allows them to be viewed from a variety of angles, giving an almost cinematic quality as the characters appear framed by windows, walking along corridors, having romantic meetings at the end of the train or squabbling with their neighbours.
There is a discrete shift in tone between the two acts. Act one, with the constantly moving train set, is the more restless and technically impressive, while the second act, with Poirot confronting and questioning the suspects, is close to a courtroom drama.
Like the train from which the title is taken, Murder on the Orient Express is a classy production. Very classy.