It is very, very cold inside the country house. Could it be due to the snow that is fluttering around the property? Or is it something more sinister like, say, murder?
In 1952, Agatha Christie’s delightful murder mystery “The Mousetrap” kicked off its first performance in London, and for more than 70 years, with the exception of the 2020 pandemic shutting down all public spaces, every performance has been recorded on the lobby’s wooden counter.
No such counter will be found in the lobby at City Lights Theater Company, which is producing the classic. There will also not be a murderer found until the show’s conclusion, but don’t ask anyone who’s seen the beloved whodunit. The play’s conclusion is a famously firmly-guarded secret, a history of productions reminding the audience not to be ninnies and go ruining things for others looking for a little blood splatter on a Saturday night.
The production offers up lots of catnip for Christie stans who can whip out references to Hercule and Marple on a dime. The cast assembled by director Doll Piccotto does a bang-up job with the genre’s specific style. The slightest of nods, the lightest of winks, and an awful lot of listening are components that make up a Christie mystery.
The lovely young couple Mollie Ralston (Alycia Adame) and husband Giles (Myles Kenyon Rowland) have decided to monetize Monkswell Manor, turning it into a guest house where folks can make their way to frolic and play. In a planned grand debut, a quirky set of guests make their way despite the freezing temperatures.
Those guests are loaded with idiosyncrasies. They include budding airheaded architect Christopher Wren (Christian Pizzirani), The crass and impatient Mrs. Boyle (Patricia Tyler), newly retired Major Metcalf (Kyle Smith), and international resident Ms. Casewell (Mary Melnick).
A few others round out the troupe, in which no one is above being a suspect, but weren’t expected to be part of the opening night festivities. Mr Paravicini (Tom Gough) arrives after claiming his car got in a fight with the snow and lost, and the one who puts everyone on edge, Detective Sargeant Trotter (Drew Benjamin Jones), who has a police vehicle that looks and functions an awful lot like snow skis.
The script does show its age in spurts, action dragging here and there in its very talky style that is signature Christie. Still, Piccotto infuses her cast with lots of deft touches that spruce up the play’s more humorous aspects, and they are often cackle-inducing. Pizzirani and his goofball charm, bounding all over the stage as if his curiosities will be cured purely by arriving somewhere fast, make him a nice touchstone for when the action reaches his purview.
The deftness also applies to some of City Lights’ performers who are regular fixtures on the company’s quaint stage. Adame is a performer who carries a nice range of variety, one who consistently drives their intentions with force. Gough does Gough things with heapings of glee, making a presence felt as he brings into the story some horrifically hilarious accent work.
The story and what connects us comes from the work of Jones as the detective. His persistence proves to be the moral core of the genre, where we know clearly he is working from a place of safeguarding. His Trotter works with urgency — how many more victims are out there before he can get to them? What must be determined by the audience is who else might be working from the same set of intentions. Who might just be covering their tracks while hiding a vile, bloody secret? And is there someone who really doesn’t want the killer discovered?
The play is also introducing an extra character which is noticed immediately. Ron Gasparinetti’s usual bang-up scenic design offers something that speaks of the spookiness within the manor, and the colors filtering through a doll’s house makes for blatant, intentional, and effective metaphors. George Psarras’ knows how to make sounds howl in that building, forcing each nuance directly in the collective cochlea of the audience.
If curiosity truly kills the cat, the play invites each audience member to engage with their basest feline instincts. Even though the denouement of this 73-year-old play is a guarded secret, it’s time to spoil it: That one person who did that one thing is certainly the killer. Or are they? In any case, you’re welcome.
David John Chávez is chair of the American Theatre Critics/Journalists Association and a two-time juror for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama (‘22-‘23); @davidjchavez.bsky.social.
‘THE MOUSETRAP’
By Agatha Christie, presented by City Lights Theater Company
Through: April 12
Where: City Lights Theater, 529 S. Second St., San Jose
Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes with an intermission
Tickets: $38-$63; cltc.org