Director Roni Ellis establishes an authentic setting for Snookered at Salford Arts Theatre. The audience enters to the cast, in character, pulling pints, playing pool / darts or listening to a very loud jukebox.
Author Libby Hall, on the other hand, prefers a more abstract approach, opening the play with a lengthy, direct-to-the-audience monologue. Landlord (the word is used as a name rather than a title, which gets a bit annoying) of The Churchill public house doubles as the pub boor, giving his opinions on the transformative power of the weekend, the ability of a pub to instil a sense of discipline in young regulars and the trend in pub closures. Verbosity must run in the family, as Landlord’s daughter, Artois, is also prone to lengthy speeches, although in her case they tend to be comedic—half-understood concepts and generational misunderstandings.
Pretty much every member of the cast spells out verbally the background to their character. Cheryl has been locked out by her husband after his discovery of her obsession with an old flame. Ash is looking for trouble, while his friend Con plays peacemaker and conceals a secret. There is also a new customer whose first interaction with Landlord is to try and score drugs. Many of the conversations concern a local celebrity who patronises the pub and is rumoured to have illegal sexual preferences, and whose body is, eventually, discovered in the pub toilets impaled on a snooker cue.
Snookered is a play which is reluctant to commit to a consistent style. Despite the discovery of a body and the patrons investigating the circumstances of the death, the play does not accord with the norms of a murder mystery. The potential suspects are in view of the audience when the crime is committed, and none show any signs of blood splatter. Clues are not so much hidden as buried within speeches and are not discovered but explained.
Comedy elements emerge occasionally and are successful, particularly one of the rare visual gags: Artois teaching the patrons exercises to calm their anxieties. But the sheer amount of dialogue devoted to the central crime suggests the author regards the comedy as a secondary issue.
The possibility of the play being a psychological thriller is spoiled by the puppet master behind the crime revealing their identity voluntarily and spelling out their motivation in laborious detail rather than the more satisfying approach of them being unmasked when these issues are discovered by another character.
As there is a single set, actions outside the pub must be described rather shown, which makes for a static atmosphere and contributes to a lack of tension in the play. Despite the possibility the characters may be in close contact with a murderer, no one shows any fear or disgust. There are some strong contrivances in the plot. It strains credibility a police officer would be able to conceal their profession from close friends for years, but then their behaviour in the pub indicates they must be rotten at their job.
At present, Snookered feels like a sample of different styles. One assumes author Libby Hall was aspiring towards a psychological thriller, but the sheer amount of dialogue prevents the development of the taut, fast-moving format such stories require. The conclusion ought to provoke a sense of shock or betrayal, but it is hard to become emotionally involved when concentrating on listening to the lengthy explanation of the villain’s motivation.
Snookered might benefit from the producers committing to a single, consistent style and accepting this might necessitate trimming some of the lengthy speeches.