MIDSOMER MURDERS: THE KILLINGS AT BADGER’S DRIFT

Richmond Theatre

★★★★

“it is a joy to mingle with these quirky characters, brought to thrilling life by a talented band of actors”

Back in 1997, the body of Emily Simpson, a gentle, orchid-loving, older lady was found in her cottage in the rural, sleepy, chocolate-box village of Badger’s Drift. Her friend, eccentric spinster Lucy Bellringer, was adamant – despite the doctor’s diagnosis – that she was murdered. When proven right, the village descended into panic, the murderer strikes again, and millions of television viewers across the UK watched in delight and fascination as the quirky villagers spun their bizarre secrets around the mind of DCI Tom Barnaby (and his sidekick Sergeant Gavin Troy). The end of the millennium was in sight, but this could have been the forties or fifties. The wit and charm and appeal of the television series secured itself in the nation’s hearts within that first hour, and it is still going strong.

Based on the series of novels by Caroline Graham, that first episode has finally reached the stage, adapted and directed by Guy Unsworth. Murder mystery has always been an engrossing genre for theatre, inviting the audience to participate in their own minds and become one of the lead players trying to solve the puzzles. “Midsomer Murders: The Killings at Badger’s Drift” is no exception as it recreates the original, keeping the light-hearted, whimsy spirit. At times it almost seems like a spoof. It is often absurd, occasionally surreal, and invariably funny. The veiled shadows that supposedly lie beneath the surface are glimpsed, although they are not quite so deep and dark as we have been led to believe. Suspense may be lacking, but wit and silliness thrive, and it is a joy to mingle with these quirky characters, brought to thrilling life by a talented band of actors.

Daniel Casey has been promoted. Having played Sergeant Troy on the small screen, he now takes the helm as DCI Barnaby. A cool presence, he is unfazed by the craziness that surrounds him. James Bradwell’s Troy quietly and comically misreads the situations that Barnaby sees straight through, until he truly comes into his own, well and truly grabbing hold of all the wrong ends of all the sticks. But you can’t really blame him. These villagers are a secretive lot, and it is no surprise that each and every one is the main suspect at some point. Lucy Bellringer further embodies the confusion when she dramatically declares that “I am not what I am”. Julie Legrand brilliantly portrays this offbeat oddball, alternately guiding and then tripping up the investigation. We could all do with a bit of guidance, but we need no help in being tripped up as we come face to face with the subjects of Barnaby’s investigation. Alibis are like cockroaches that disappear as soon as any light is shed on them. First up is local GP, Trevor Lessiter, (a marvellous John Dougall) whose false defence hides a shady secret that Dougall expertly reveals later with a deadpan humour. His wife (Nathalie Barclay) is just as weighed down with whispered secrets that arrive as so-called ‘wrong numbers’ on the telephone. Dougall amazingly, and unrecognisably, reappears as local busybody, Iris Rainbird, who keeps a scrapbook of all the goings-on. Her son Dennis, the local undertaker (Rupert Sadler), is deliciously camp with a sinister sneer. For reasons that you must discover for yourself they are both struck off the suspect list fairly early on.

It is a surprise, at curtain call, to see how small the cast is. Doubling and trebling abound. Nathalie Barclay also convincingly and sassily plays gold digger Katherine Lacey, betrothed to rich widower Henry Trace (yes… Dougall again). Rupert Sadler re-emerges as Katherine’s artist brother, Michael, who opposes his sister’s ambitions. Or does he? You need to be on your toes to keep up. David Woodhead’s various sets certainly help matters, slickly sliding on and off, stage left and right and up into the wings. The sense of location is precisely signposted, as is the sense of foreboding, triggered by Matt Haskins’ lighting. Max Pappenheim’s filmic music adds further to the atmosphere, orchestrally lush, complete with the recognisable theremin sound that creates the necessary menace.

Yet what stands out above the slender menace is the mischievous humour. I have barely touched on the various plot twists, for obvious reasons, but it is safe to say that at each turn there are the joint hazards of a surprise and a laugh. Caroline Graham’s wonderfully eccentric characters have travelled from the novels to the television screen – but the theatre is where they truly flourish. And where they come to life in this fast paced, witty and bizarre setting. Never has murder been more fun.

MIDSOMER MURDERS: THE KILLINGS AT BADGER’S DRIFT

Richmond Theatre then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 30th October 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DEATH ON THE NILE | ★★★★ | October 2025

THE 39 STEPS | ★★★★★ | April 2024

DRACULA | ★★★ | March 2022

MIDSOMER MURDERS

★★★

“There are fine moments of humour amidst the stylisation in director Alexandra Rutter’s production”

It is a brave undertaking to lure London audiences into the theatre this summer with the promise of a show that features an awful lot of rain. It is also a brave undertaking to adapt a Makoto Shinkai film. Shinkai – animator, filmmaker, author and graphic artist – is responsible for some of the highest-grossing Japanese films of all time with his idiosyncratic and recognisable animations. But both are challenges that ‘Whole Hog Theatre’, specialists in Anglo-Japanese theatre, are not shying away from with the premier of “The Garden of Words”.

It focuses on Takao Akizuki (Hiroki Berrecloth), an aspiring teenage shoemaker and Yukari Yukino (Aki Nakagawa), a mysterious older woman he keeps meeting in the public gardens of Shinjuku City. It is the rainy season, beautifully evoked by the video projections, lighting, sound and stylised movement of the actors. There are echoes of Jacques Demy (it could almost be dubbed ‘The Umbrellas of Tokyo’), and traces of David Lean’s ‘Brief Encounter’ when the couple meet – courtesy of Mark Choi’s soaring piano soundtrack. But the overall sensation is of being drawn into a Japanese ‘anime’ art film. The merging of styles creates a profoundly hypnotic atmosphere, but one that clouds the emotional connection we would have liked to have had with these characters.

It is a simple, soft love story that subtly touches on the taboo. Takao is still a teenager while Yukari is a teacher from his school. Although their meetings are accidental and innocent. At least initially. They only meet when it rains. A literal and metaphoric ingredient for the blossoming of their friendship. They are both isolated in their own way. Back home, Takao’s divorced mother (a bubbling and eccentric Susan Momoko Hingley) is more concerned with her love life than her family, while his brother (James Bradwell) is fleeing the nest in pursuit of actress girlfriend Rika (Iniki Mariano). Like Takao, Yukari is also skipping school, having been hounded by false accusations from her students, the prime culprit being Shoko (a very watchable Shoko Aizawa). Trying to appease all parties is gym teacher Soichiro (Mark Takeshi Ota).

There are fine moments of humour amidst the stylisation in director Alexandra Rutter’s production (who co-adapted with Susan Momoko Hingley). But also, some superfluous moments of repeated movement that, although eye-catching, could be pruned. In the first act it occasionally loses its balance, like riding a bicycle too slowly. In contrast, the second act rushes to its epilogue as if an afterthought, and the interval was an unscheduled mistake. The enchantment would have kept its flavour better if concentrated in a one act performance. Otherwise, the essence of the anime art form remains as true as it can be. It recognises its limitations, and doesn’t try to overstep the small-scale setting with its vivid, slightly surreal and delicate combination of creative expertise.

KENNY’s video graphic projections work hand in hand with Cindy Lin’s set. The Japanese Garden almost origami like, comprising fringes of paper that depict both the city’s skyline and the weeping leaves of the trees. In turn they become the rain, then the tears of these lost souls who “feel they may die from the agony of love”: one of many quotations projected overhead. Passages from ‘The Man’yōshū’, a compilation of Classical Japanese poetry from the eighth century, are a recurring motif that informs the narrative, and assists the audience. Like the rain.

In fact, the rain is quite relentless. A leitmotif that adopts many shades and meanings. In the world that these characters inhabit, rain is something that people who suffer from social isolation can prefer more than the sun. “The Garden of Words” exposes the fragility of emotions born of loneliness and longing, yet just falls short of gripping the heart. The other senses are left basking in the downpour though. It is a treat to watch, even if we don’t quite connect. It is an apt synchronicity that while the characters onstage are ‘praying for the rain’, we most certainly aren’t. Especially this summer.

Tag Archives: James Bradwell

MIDSOMER MURDERS: THE KILLINGS AT BADGER’S DRIFT

★★★★

UK Tour

MIDSOMER MURDERS: THE KILLINGS AT BADGER’S DRIFT

Richmond Theatre

★★★★

“it is a joy to mingle with these quirky characters, brought to thrilling life by a talented band of actors”