★★★★

“Each performer is in tune with the requisite balance of light and shade – humour and suspense”

Agatha Christie’s Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot, has become one of the most recognisable figures in detective fiction, first appearing in print over a century ago. So popular was he, that when he died from a heart attack in the 1975 novel, ‘Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case’, Poirot was the only fictional character to receive an obituary on the front page of the New York Times. It is no surprise that the dignified and diminutive detective found himself portrayed in film by the likes of such heavyweights as David Suchet, Peter Ustinov and Kenneth Branagh.

Anyone who steps into his shoes has a formidable legacy to live up to. Mark Hadfield, in Ken Ludwig’s touring stage adaptation of “Death on the Nile”, slips into them comfortably. Stylishly directed by Lucy Bailey, the assumption is that the majority of the audience will know the story, so characterisation and atmosphere take centre stage, with the mystery sidelined to the wings. Bailey still manages to keep the suspense, opening with a London street scene in which two lovers are entwined in romantic complicity. Poirot watches on as the mist swirls. We are in film noir territory before Hadfield steps out of the shadows and speaks directly to us. A glint in his eye, and subtle inflections in his accent, are a tacit and conspiratorial directive not to take things too seriously. In fact, as the play progresses, we increasingly realise how adept Ludwig is at eking out gentle humour from Christie’s story.

A glittery party at the British Museum introduces the principal characters, before the action shifts to the Nile cruise ship. Designer Mike Britton leads us from land to water with impossibly slick dexterity on his two-tiered set. Slatted panels slide and shift revealing layers and secrets. There is an undercurrent of furtive activity behind the main action downstage. Mic Pool’s sound design mixes folksy Egyptian musical motifs with the lapping waves of the Nile and nighttime cries of wildlife; while Oliver Fenwick’s lighting follows the various moods with precision. Evoking the setting, too, are the costumes with their mix of muted beiges for the men and floating, art deco chic for the women.

The play moves at quite a pace. It is no spoiler to reveal that a gunshot closes act one while the discovery of a dead body introduces the second act. From here Poirot moves towards his conclusion in breathtaking time. Unusually, not everyone is a suspect – the detective has already narrowed it down a fair bit. That doesn’t prevent us from getting to know the delightful personalities that have followed each other (unwittingly or otherwise) onto the ship. Central to the piece are newlyweds Linnet (Libby Alexandra-Cooper) and Simon (Nye Occomore). Simon, unfortunately, was hitherto engaged to the furious Jacqueline de Bellefort (Esme Hough) who seems intent on some sort of revenge (but remember, all is not what it seems). Each performer is in tune with the requisite balance of light and shade – humour and suspense. Bob Barrett, as Poirot’s old friend and sidekick Colonel Race, is a delight to watch. Glynis Barber’s hack-writer-turned-ham-actress Salome provides wonderful comic relief. The cameos and ensemble are all as important as the lead players, but it is Alexandra-Cooper’s stage debut as Linnet that shines. A natural performer and a name to look out for.

A couple of clumsy moments are in danger of tripping up the otherwise slick flow, but the tour has only just set sail, and these will be ironed out in due course. Yet the confidence of the company steers it through its choppier moments. And the sense of fun is truly infectious. The customary denouement when Poirot calls everyone together for his summing up is greeted with derision by the characters as they momentarily break out of their roles. ‘I hate this part’, says Colonel Race. ‘I love it’ retorts Poirot. An epilogue, delivered direct to the audience, neatly gives us closure.

This interpretation of “Death on the Nile” has a style all of its own. There is only one verdict, really, and it doesn’t need a Belgian detective to spell it out. Go and see it for yourself. Et, viola… Mon ami!

MARY PAGE MARLOWE

Old Vic

★★★★

“The supporting cast are uniformly excellent, providing light and shade where needed”

If you break a hologram, the original image remains visible in each fragment, but the viewing angle for each piece is narrower, like looking through a smaller window. Every fragment shows the whole picture, but from a different perspective.

Tracy Letts’ intriguing play, “Mary Page Marlowe”, is constructed along similar lines. Carefully selected moments, some mundane and some pivotal, are patch-worked together in no particular order to paint a full, yet intimate, portrait of a woman. An “unexceptional” woman, according to the titular character herself. The experience for the audience, though, is quite the opposite. It is an exceptional and extraordinary play in which time is random. Five actors perform the role of Mary Page Marlowe, charting seventy years of her life over the course of eleven short scenes. A cradle to grave story (the baby Mary is represented by a doll – a less risky proposition than having a real baby onstage as in the premiere nine years ago in Chicago) that spirals around the life of Mary Page – along with her three husbands, two children, alcoholic mother, palliative nurse, therapist, lover… and so on.

We first see her explaining how her divorce will affect and uproot her children, before we flip back to her bright and buoyant schooldays, before fast forwarding to her twilight years. She is then a baby, mewling and puking; and then the lover, sighing like a furnace. There are indeed reflections on Shakespeare’s seven stages of life, albeit as though the bard had thrown his folio into the air and let the pages fall haphazardly around him.

Each scene is succinct and stand alone in its own right; with outstanding, natural performances from the entire cast. The common thread is often missing, however, and we feel that we are not watching the same woman in different stages of her life, but many people’s stories. The distancing of emotional connection that this results in is compensated for, however, by the ingenious structure and Matthew Warchus’ sublime direction. Staged in the round, it emphasises the concept that past, present and future are as one. When the telephone rings at the end of one scene, the weight of its significance is truly felt because we have already seen what comes after.

Each Mary is highly watchable. Alisha Weir’s twelve-year-old Mary is a convincing mix of obstinance and innocence whose rose-tinted view of life is already eroded by her late teens: Eleanor Worthington-Cox captures the ambiguity of hope versus disillusionment in denial. The more Mary ages, the stronger the characterisation. Rosy McEwen, as Mary the adulteress, is a personality to be reckoned with, while Andrea Riseborough lights up the stage every time she appears with her brutally honest energy and physicality, steering Mary on a crash course off the rails. Many people may be drawn to this show by the casting of Susan Sarandon, but the play is, by no means, a vehicle for starry casting. Sarandon has as little stage time as the others, and she uses it as efficiently. Poised and in complete control, Sarandon evokes regret and sadness with a stoicism that matches her presence.

The supporting cast are uniformly excellent, providing light and shade where needed. Kingsley Morton’s schoolfriend, Connie, is a very funny breath of fresh air. Melanie La Barrie’s nurse is wryly comic but wise. A wisdom that is perhaps missing from Mary’s mother, grippingly portrayed by Eden Epstein. The moods are heightened by Hugh Vanstone’s sensitive lighting, but occasionally dampened by some overlong scene changes.

Despite all, however, Letts’ storytelling is a bit of a puzzle and, at times, hard work. The scrambled record of events can be distracting and the true hold on our attention is sometimes out of reach. We are never really let into the life of Mary Page Marlowe. The play hides as much as it reveals, which is part of its charm, but it is also frustratingly inconsequential. Letts wants us to question how much we can really know a person – even ourselves. We are teased into wanting to find out the answer, but left hanging. However, the meaninglessness (for want of a better word) is, in turn, inconsequential. We are won over by the truly mesmerising ensemble cast.

Tag Archives: Manuel Harlan

DEATH ON THE NILE

★★★★

UK Tour

DEATH ON THE NILE

Richmond Theatre

★★★★

“Each performer is in tune with the requisite balance of light and shade – humour and suspense”

DEATH ON THE NILE

Richmond Theatre then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 9th October 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE 39 STEPS | ★★★★★ | April 2024

DRACULA | ★★★ | March 2022

DEATH ON THE NILE

DEATH ON THE NILE

DEATH ON THE NILE

MARY PAGE MARLOWE

★★★★

Old Vic

MARY PAGE MARLOWE

Old Vic

★★★★

“The supporting cast are uniformly excellent, providing light and shade where needed”