Recap Dial M For Murder 

There’s a tale of murderous revenge taking place in Uptown’s Lyn-Lake neighborhood. Dial M For Murder, in production at the Jungle Theater through March 18, is a classic mystery, a sort of paint-by-numbers thriller that doesn’t pull any artsy punches. The play has a filmic quality, falling squarely in the classic thriller or mystery genre. In fact, the 1954 film version of Murder, by Alfred Hitchcock, is not too different from director Bain Boehlke’s current iteration. Having seen both, it’s kind of hard to think of the play as something separate from the movie. And that’s not a bad thing, considering Hitchcock is Hitchcock, and the play does a swell job making you forget it’s not the movie.

Margot Wendice (played by a somewhat overacting Cheryl Willis) cheated on her husband Tony (Michael Booth) with an American man, Max Halliday (Terry Hempleman). Tony doesn’t know about this, though. Well, actually, he does, but Margot doesn’t know that he knows, and so begins the central source of conflict in the play: Everyone is misleading everyone else. Mrs. Wendice is an adulterer, and Mr. Wendice is a jealous husband, one who only married his wife for financial stability. He has latched onto moneyed people his entire life, first as a roving tennis star in the days before multimillion-dollar promotions existed for athletes (when your big prize was only a shiny cup), and later with her. But he neglected her, and she became lonely, so she cheated. To Margot, all is well now, as she’s decided her cheating days are over. But Tony, now a commercial salesman, is secretly seething about the whole thing. He’s pissed at Margot, and his anger turns him into a bit of a stalker, though a very secretive one. He’s been tracking her every move, and has even begun blackmailing her as an anonymous stranger. He wants Margot’s family money—but he doesn’t want her. So he blackmails an old wayward classmate from Oxford, because those exist, to murder her. And before you know it, her death is planned down to the every detail, and everything’s going to be just fine for everyone but Margot. But of course it doesn’t end up that way. 

For anyone who’s seen the Hitchcock film or knows the story, it’s bound to be a less exciting production than it is for the uninitiated, like watching The Sixth Sense while knowing the entire time that (SPOILER!) Bruce Willis has been as dead as his marriage to Demi Moore the entire time. Murder works the same way: Once the surprises are ruined for you, the twists and turns of this intricate plotline—where clues are king—are just not as fun. On the acting front, Inspector Hubbard, played by Gary Briggle, is a joy to watch; he adds humor and charisma to performances that otherwise feel a bit complacent. In such a plot-driven production, you need some warmth from the players. On the whole, the play works—though the older gentleman who fell asleep next to us at the theater on opening night may have felt differently. For the audience members who were awake, the action of the production never leaves a single room, yet everyone is taken for a muddled ride.