Updating a Classic Thriller at Road Less Traveled
By Anthony Chase
Buffalo finds itself in the throes of a murder mystery frenzy this season. Lancaster Opera House recently concluded Accomplice, Alleyway Theatre prepares to unveil Agatha Christie's The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, and Buffalo United Artists readies The Hung Man, a Hitchcock parody. But it's Road Less Traveled Productions' revival of Dial M for Murder at Shea's 710 Theatre that currently commands our attention with its meticulous plotting and refreshed perspective.
There's a pleasing symmetry to the arrival of Dial M at 710 Main Street. This same stage hosted a Studio Arena Theatre production in 1995, while its predecessor, Studio Theatre, performed the show in 1955 at their theater at Lafayette and Hoyt, just one year after its Broadway debut. This historical echo adds a layer of significance to director Robyn Lee's current interpretation of Jeffrey Hatcher’s adaptation.
The enduring appeal of murder mysteries rests, in part, in their ability to defy memory. Even if you've encountered Dial M for Murder before, the twisting plot likely remains somewhat elusive in your recollection. Frederick Knott’s script began as a 1952 BBC television drama. It opened on London’s West End in the same year, followed by a successful Broadway outing (1952-1954). It is probably best known, however, from Alfred Hitchcock's renowned film adaptation starring Ray Milland, Grace Kelly, and Robert Cummings – interestingly filmed in 3-D.
Jeffrey Hatcher's adaptation maintains the 1950s setting of Frederick Knott's original work, but introduces significant alterations that both modernize the narrative and heighten its dramatic tension. The central plot remains: Tony Wendice discovers that his wealthy wife Margo has been unfaithful. Rather than confront her, he meticulously engineers her murder to secure her fortune. By the play's opening, the affair has concluded, but Tony's precarious finances and marital status push him forward with his deadly scheme, which involves him establishing an alibi by telephoning home at a precise moment while at the BBC with his wife's former lover, a mystery writer who is being interviewed on a live radio broadcast.
Hatcher's most notable revision transforms the extramarital relationship into a same-sex affair between Margo and crime novelist Maxine Hadley (originally Max Halliday), and immediately raising the stakes in the socially conservative 1950s setting. He further intertwines the characters by making Tony -- no longer a retired tennis pro -- a failed writer employed in the publicity department of Maxine's own publisher, adding layers of connection and potential professional jealousy to his motivations.
The adaptation cleverly plays with gendered knowledge. Hatcher has some fun with the things that women know but men don’t, as when Maxine, evoking a detail from Tony’s evidence tampering in the film that is absent from the play, remarks at how easily a nylon stocking will burn to ash. I might augment this knowledge by mentioning that in 1952, every woman in the audience would have known a lot about nylons and would have remembered the nylon riots that erupted at the end of World War II when the coveting fashion accessory became available again.
Hatcher's changes also enable him to integrate Maxine more meaningfully into the resolution, giving her a more active role in Margo's potential salvation than Max had played. The playwright’s reimagined method for bringing Margo back into the action before the climax strains credibility to the point of comedy, but this minor flaw is easily forgiven when we consider the overall strengths of the adaptation. He also gives Margot, who is an alarmingly passive and submissive character as originally written, more agency and spunk.
Under Robyn Lee's direction, the production maintains a delicate balance between period authenticity and contemporary resonance. Her pacing throughout builds tension methodically, allowing moments of humor to provide necessary relief without undercutting the mounting suspense. Numerous physical actions are rendered with vital clarity and emphasis. Fight direction by Shelby Converse supports this vision. It’s an elegant production.
The cast embodies their roles with precision and, within the limitations of the genre, even depth. Kate LoConti Alcocer brings balletic grace to Margo Wendice (the Grace Kelly role), moving through the 1950s setting with urbane authenticity. Her performance evolves subtly from composed sophistication to frayed vulnerability as events unravel around her.
Kristen Tripp Kelley crafts a compelling Maxine Hadley as one of those formidable post-war women who makes no apologies, suffers no fools, and drinks her bourbon straight. Kelley imbues the character with intellectual sharpness and emotional complexity, making Maxine's continued concern for Margo both believable and endearing.
Deploying his considerable charm as Tony Wendice, Steve Copps winningly creates the evening's most smarmy character. His performance is a model of calculated affability -- we understand exactly how he's maintained his marriage despite his mercenary intentions. Copps reveals Tony's true nature strategically and with delicious precision, even displaying mercurial charm in the play’s final moment when he realizes he’s totally screwed.
Adam Yellen wins unlikely sympathy for hapless Lesgate, the unassuming and ultimately ineffectual conman recruited for murder. Through subtle character choices, Yellen suggests a man whose criminal ambitions consistently outpace his abilities. Hatcher's adaptation introduces another significant change: a brief but provocative conversation between Lesgate and Margot before his murder attempt. This addition heightens the menacing thrill of the play (reminiscent of the tension Knott mastered in Wait Until Dark) while providing Margot and Maxine with crucial information for their subsequent strategizing. The casting of the inherently likable Adam Yellen --- rather than an actor who projects conventional creepiness -- creates an additional layer of psychological complexity, making the attempted murder scene all the more unsettling.
Todd Benzin completes the ensemble as Inspector Hubbard, bumbling onto the scene, creating a clear antecedent to Peter Falk’s Inspector Colombo. Benzin masterfully underplays the detective's intelligence, allowing the audience to delight in his methodical dismantling of Tony's scheme.
In the early scenes, the unamplified voices were not consistently audible. The formidable acting company seemed to adjust as the evening progressed, projecting more fully as athey advanced finely crafted performances to create compelling character dynamics.
Dyan Burlingame's set design proves instrumental to the production's success. The sunken living room with its sleek mid-century modern lines is clearly constructed around the path of the attempted murder, with a straight upstage line from bedroom, to bar, to door, to telephone, to French windows. One of the most frustrating design experiences I ever had at 710 Main was a 1993 production of Murder by Misadventure, in which the “murder” involved the victim being locked on the 11th floor balcony of a posh apartment. The set looked like a room pulled from the pages of architectural digest. One problem. Nobody sitting house left or house right could see onto crucial balcony. By contrast Burlingame’s design for Dial M for Murder is all about the townhouse door, firmly placed upstage center and ostentatiously visible from every seat in the house.
The technical elements under Lee's guidance work in concert to enhance the period setting while maintaining the psychological intensity necessary for effective suspense. Lighting by Nicholas Quinn shifts to suggest the time of day, while subtly mirroring the characters' emotional states and the intensity of the drama. Costumes by Kari Drozd reflect character while transporting us to the upper set of ever so elegant post-war London. Sound by Kevin Faulhaber heightens the drama while evoking the full texture of reality.
What ultimately distinguishes this smart and stylish production is its recognition that the most effective thrillers are less about the mechanics of murder than about the psychology behind it. This is not a whodunit. We know Tony is a louse. We delight in seeing how he gets caught.
This moment lands with such success, that I think the company was somewhat unprepared for the instantaneous and explosive response of an attentive audience. We all knew, without hesitation or doubt, that we had reached the end of the play. I am confident that the awkward pause between the concluding line and current call on opening night will not be duplicated at subsequent performances!
There is something deeply satisfying about a well-crafted thriller. Road Less Traveled's production reminds us why this particular subgenre continues to captivate, more than seventy years after Knott first penned his ingenious plot. No genre, indeed, makes its audience feel smarter -- or sends them home more pleasantly unsettled.
The production continues at Shea’s 710 through April 13, 2025
