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SCENE IT: BLACK COFFEE, a bit of a cold brew
- Maria Kearns
- Apr 11
- 3 min read
Maria Kearns
Local fans of Agatha Christie’s fastidiously mustachioed detective Hercule Poirot will no doubt be rejoicing at the chance to see one of the little Belgian refugee’s cases unfolding on a stage close to home: BLACK COFFEE, directed by Alan Swerdlow, at Theatre on the Bay until 26 April 2025.
In this instalment, set in the uncertain Interwar period, scientist Sir Claud Amory (Peter Terry) finds that his secret formula for a deadly new weapon has been stolen. He summons Poirot to his home to apprehend the culprit, but, of course, the scientist meets his demise before our hero enters the frame.
You can feel a frisson of excitement as the audience make their way to their seats. The set, an imposing room containing a sofa, a bookcase, and an overflowing desk (constructed by Nadine Minnaar), promises the requisite level of exhilaration and murderous intrigue.
The production is, however, hamstrung from the start by the not overly successful plot—and I say this as an avid Christie fan. The familiar ingredients are all there—the brilliant but fussy detective, the bumbling, well-intentioned sidekick, the posh characters strutting around a drawing room being arch and speaking ill of the dead, the staggeringly easily available deadly poisons—but it’s as if the stew hasn’t been given enough time to come to the boil. This was Christie’s first play, written more than fifteen years before her legendary The Mousetrap hit the London stage, and perhaps that explains the curious flatness of the attempt.
The suspect pool also seems uncharacteristically thinly drawn. Much of the enjoyment of a Christie work usually comes from the terse exchanges between the cast of wily, supercilious, eccentric characters, but that element was largely absent here. Despite this, we are treated to delightful turns by especially Terry, Michael Richard (as Dr. Carelli), and Mike Huff (as Tredwell). Essentially, however, the play serves as a showcase for the actor lucky enough to inhabit the legendary Poirot. This honour falls to Alan Committie, who delivers a well-paced, energetic, and very enjoyable performance without making himself overly indebted to well-known past interpreters of the little Belgian.
Visually, things get murky rather quickly. The pinstriped suit worn by Captain Hastings (Ashley Dowds) prompted me to wonder whether there was an unfortunate production of Glengarry Glen Ross somewhere nearby missing one of their costumes. Edward Raynor (Schoeman Smit), Sir Claud’s assistant, appears ready for battle; unfortunately, this battle is being fought on the wrong continent and by an army that didn’t exist at the time of his employer’s murder, as Raynor’s dress uniform looks suspiciously like 1960s SANDF-issue. Dianne Simpson delivers an entertaining performance as the spirited Barbara, which goes some way to obscuring the fact that her costume makes her look like a colourblind escaped fairground fortune-teller. Yes, this is definitely a period drama, but as to which period… (Attention to detail always, mes enfants.)
The puzzling wardrobe choices could be put down to budgetary restraints, of course, but how much could it cost to hem everyone’s trousers? It’s a miracle no one tripped (though it would’ve been incredibly easy to pinpoint the culprit in that case, at least, Poirot or no Poirot).
From one kind of tripping up to another: I don’t like focusing too much criticism on accents, as they’re hard to get right under pressure—much harder than armchair analysts may appreciate—and actors know the slightest misplaced emphasis or dodgy vowel can shatter the careful illusion an audience has been asked to participate in, which doesn’t make the sustained execution of a crisp RP any easier. That being said, a reviewer can only let so many slips go by before not mentioning the issue starts to look like a dereliction of duty. This definitely wasn’t a problem across the board(s), but the less experienced members of the cast were evidently struggling.
There are elements to appreciate here, but any enjoyment may require looking past the sartorial confusion and wandering accents. Those not already sold on the charms of the classic whodunnit probably won’t be converted by this production, and those of us who hold Papa Poirot close to our hearts may well bemoan the lack of ‘the order, the method’ the little egg-shaped detective values so highly.
BLACK COFFEE is running at Theatre on the Bay until 26 April 2025. Tickets are available through Webtickets.
