Dial “M” For Murder

Critiqued by Holly Bartges

Frederick Knott’s Dial “M” For Murder which opened last weekend at The Vintage Theatre, should be renamed Dial “D” For Dead.

It is.

Rita Broderick, Stacy Riley and Robert Kramer in Vintage Theatre Production of Dial “M” for Murder Photo credit: Ellen Nelson

Directed by Bernie Cardell, Dial “M” for Murder does not live up to The Vintage Theatre’s awesome climb into the realm of outstanding theatre productions.

For some reason, the cast chose, consciously or unconsciously, to present the characters as one-dimensional cardboard personalities, which makes for a very slow grind. Even though some of the characters manage some eye opening expressions, all too many times, the actors stand stiff as a board with arms plastered to their sides. Theatre 101 should have a class entitled “Guess what? Humans have arms, and they can move. Use them.”

Dial “M” for Murder lacks pizzazz, zest, intrigue, suspense, passion, and “zingered” energy. Murder owns none of these elements, turning a thriller into a tormented predictable slaughter.

Written in 1954, the play takes place in Tony and Margot Windice’s 1952 London apartment. A once-upon-a-time tennis pro, Tony, plots his wife’s murder.  Played by Robert Kramer, Tony is given some “alive” moments. Kramer has a wondrous way delivering a sinister smile. His eyes light up and his stomach says tilt. His eyes beam with evil delight. When he has opportunity to face the audience and let it flash, the play almost comes alive. Kramer does have moments when he lets Tony pick up the energy, but then he drops it.

Stacy Riley in Vintage Theatre Production of Dial “M” for Murder Photo credit: Ellen Nelson

In the middle of Act II when Max Halladay, a TV mystery writer having an affair with Margo, confronts Tony with the way he sees the truth, energy flows, and the play almost sparks into focus.

There just aren’t enough sparks imbedded in this production to allow it to burst into a blaze of suspenseful vibration.

Stacy Riley plays Margo without feeling, without passion. Even the kiss at the beginning of the play between Margo and Max falls flat in the passion arena.

Andy Lacerte as Max plays him as an uncomfortable stiff cardboard cutout. He allows Max to break loose for a moment during the confrontation with Tony, but a few solid moments does not a play make.

The production comes across as though the actors rely on the lines and plot developments to hold attention. It doesn’t work that way. These characters need to be full blown three- dimensional people. When actors stand in the way, the thrill fizzles.

Scott Glennon exercises some wonderful facial expressions as Captain Lesgate, but the information doesn’t get passed down to the rest of his body, stiff with arms plastered to his side most of the time.

Rita Broderick as Inspector Hubbard comes as close as this play can get to a fully developed believable character. She has one problem standing in her way: her outfits. In 1952 police inspectors still belonged to the good old boys club. Of course, there were exceptions. There are always exceptions, but when you are a spitfire woman, even in the ‘50’s, wanting to do something, you do it, but not in baggy, frumpy, “styleless”, four-sizes-too-big outfits. These outfits make Inspector Hubbard look sloppy, and sloppy she is not, making it quite difficult to watch Broderick’s character, making it very difficult to even want to watch the character as delightful as she is. Uncomfortable actors in uncomfortable costumes steal believability from characters.

Glenda Mostek designed the costumes for Dial “M” For Murder. For the guys, she did A-OK, but something went terribly wrong with the female characters.

Stacy Riley and Robert Kramer in Vintage Theatre Production of Dial “M” for Murder Photo credit: Ellen Nelson

Riley has every reason to be stiff as Margot. The turquoise evening gown she appears in at the beginning of the play hardly looks like a frock a 1950’s classy London woman would wear. To be honest, and I don’t know how to do anything else but be honest, the dress looks as though it was made by a small town mother the night before the prom because her daughter finally got asked, and she had to throw something together really fast. The dress has no class, no style, and to top it off, doesn’t fit. Anyone wearing a dress that cheaply thrown together couldn’t be passionate about anything. Her dress in Act II is wrong for her build. If it’s wrong for Riley, it isn’t going to do a thing for Margot. And it doesn’t.

When costumes are perfect for both actor and character, they are frequently taken for granted. When a flaw creeps into the picture, however, it stands out like a sore thumb demanding attention, when attention is the last thing you want to give. Flawed costumes become emphasis for conversation, leading to comment on the actors rather than the characters.  

Somebody wasn’t paying attention. Stiff actors do not make for solid characters. Arms can and should be used. A script is only an outline and should not become a crutch to offer the thrills the suspense, the passion. In this production of Dial “M” For Murder that’s exactly what happens. The consequence: a high price to pay. With its unexpected twists and turns, Murder teases an audience to hold its breath, and sit on the edge of the seats. Because of its dragging, this production doesn’t even come close.

Colin Roybal did an outstanding job designing the apartment set for the Vintage stage. It says class. Unfortunately, the dulled dragging and ill-fitting costumes steal the intent.

Besides dragging, Dial “M” For Murder lacks steam, suspense, interest, and is a major disappointment. Go at your own risk.

Dial 'M' for Murder
By Frederick Knott directed by Bernie Cardell