Murder She Didn't Write - a sensationally silly show

★★★

There aren’t many shows where it’d probably be just as fun to be backstage as it is to be an audience member.

The cast of Murder She Didn't Write, photo by Pamela Raith

Murder She Didn't Write is probably one of them. It's impossible not to smile, a day later, when imagining a group of flustered improv actors briefing one another in the wings, completely in their element at the whim of the audience to create their characters, a story (or lack thereof), and a slightly believable ending to a whodunnit by the time the clock strikes 9pm. But still, it's absolute fun to be front and centre to the madness unfolding.

The Leicester audience settled on a masquerade ball in Cambridge, France, with a humming Lightsaber as the blueprint for the treacherous tale. Donned in Cluedo colours, Juliet Blue, Mr Gold, Violet (pronounced Vio-let), and Rose (you get the idea), took center stage, spinning a tale of marital affairs, riches, and rivalry, with varying degrees of results.

There are references to a student improv show gone wrong, suggestions of Parisian street urchins waving flags on a barricade, and a healthy dose of Foley fart sounds mixed in. Acting as a director of sorts, a detective, sits aside and chimes in with instructions that sometimes contain the chaos, and othertimes catapults it. They work in tandem with the lighting and sound designers (plus, an onstage pianist to underscore the whole thing), who, on a whim, end scenes with blackouts (sometimes mercifully), smash windows, and pull toilet chains. Everyone, on stage and off, is working purely on instinct - or survival!

That instinct, in this case, led to identity crises in mismatched European accents, outbursts of "petits filous" and "papier-mâché", and the dragging of a HeavySaber. And that was just Violet. Long-running gags and callbacks come with ease to the performers, who share a shorthand, as well as boundless energy and trust, and are propelled by a jolt of adrenaline.

A willing audience member was tasked as the detective's assistant, but was underused. More audience participation could’ve helped the pacing, and when the wheels began to fall off. My partner, ever so serious, guessed during the interval as to whodunnit - before I told him that they didn't even know yet, the victim was only discovered at the very end of the first half.

Yet, with just a chair, a chaise lounge, a walking stick, a potted plant, and a tablecloth, they did more than you could ever expect.