Murder On The Orient Express UK Tour Review (Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield)

8 February 2025 I 19:30 I Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield

⭐⭐⭐

Murder On The Orient Express, adapted for stage by Ken Ludwig, is one of Agatha Christie's international legends, recognised by millions. I had once started watching Kenneth Branagh's 2017 film, although failing to reach the end following a lifeless opening. While Lucy Bailey's stage direction is a feat of inspired visuals and convincingly bleak atmospheres, a reluctant pacing leaves the train stuck at the station. Neither misguided nor outstanding, this production does exactly what is says on the tin, and little more.

Departing from Istanbul, the unusually fully-booked Orient Express makes its voyage through Europe. When an avalanche stops the train in a 1934 winter, a murder is committed. Evident that no passengers could enter or leave the vehicle amidst blizzards, it is deduced the killer must still be on the train. Lead detective Hercule Poirot is onboard this fateful evening, honouring the case to stop the killer in their tracks.

The stage pictures for this performance are magnificent and elegant, with Mike Britton's design owning the standout moments of this adaptation. Upon a revolve, a giant carriage expands and contracts, uncovering secrets in the many compartments of his set. Despite this impressive quality, attempting to represent such a giant structure in it's intimidating grandiose has the potential to overshadow and minimize performers, rather than complimenting them.

The space is endlessly creative working alongside Lucy Hausman's movement direction, allowing the train to be believable. The uneasy, jerky, footwork to keep yourself stable and squeezing through uncomfortably tight spaces. Any audience member who has travelled by train will recognise these awkward scenarios, choreographed with intelligent precision.

Where a monumental sight astonishes, the show must be mindful of transitions. Where occasionally these are masked with success, set changes can feel laborious and weighty. The pacing dramatically suffers as a result, often feeling empty as audiences must patiently wait for the following scene, losing any sense of dynamism from the previous.

Michael Maloney's Poirot is a treat upon the stage. Initially, his characterisation holds such bravado and theatricality that jars against the action, yet progressing through the script, his eccentricity provides an excellent dimension that the play deserves. Given the material, the acting quality is top notch in this production.

Simon Cotton's Ratchett is viciously unlikeable in order to achieve an uneasy opening tone. Christine Kavanagh and Debbie Chazen's rivalry as Helen and the Princess is childishly amusing, discovering a light amongst an otherwise heavy script. And Mila Carter's Countess demonstrates a wonderfully empathetic progression that achieves much more than the grounded written character.

In bringing these unique personalities to fruition, Britton's design remains visionary, carefully selecting fabrics in different colours and textures to inform a character's identity before their first line is spoken. Arriving through a billow of haze, introductions are swift and extremely informative on a costumed basis.

Adapted from a literary great, Ludwig's script and delivery presents a lack of consideration. Disappointingly, some plot points are easily discoverable for a mystery, and the ending reveal feels lacklustre and ludicrous at best. Ian William Galloway's video design is intriguing, often aiding to lift spoken word and keeping viewers engaged from a blocky and formulaic series of dialogue.

Murder On The Orient Express, considering its iconic status as Christie's story, leaves me somewhat disappointed. It is positively fine, executing what it needs to, though it is far from a smooth journey. Audiences sit and passively observe a piece of theatre which isn't particularly effecting or stimulating. To give credit, this did not stop me spilling my theories during the interval and engaging with the material. A high visual calibre, lost on an adaptation not overly memorable.