STAGE WEEST: "Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express" at the Old Globe

The ensemble cast is a delight in "Murder on the Orient Express."                                  Photo by Jim Cox

            I’m a major Agatha Christie fan, having read most if not all of her 66 mystery novels and 14 collections of short stories. So I believe I can propound with some authority (doesn’t that sound like one of her high-minded characters?) that the “Queen of Crime’s” 1934 novel “Murder on the Orient Express” is overrated. Sorry, Christiephiles. It’s grim, it’s claustrophobic (much of the action takes place aboard a snowbound, stalled train), its denouement smacks of “Are you kidding me?” and Christie’s most delicious detective, the little Belgian Hercule Poirot, ultimately acts out of character.
            A couple of films have been made of “Murder on the Orient Express” – forgettable films.
            Leave it to intrepid playwright Ken Ludwig, he of “Lend Me A Tenor” and “Crazy For You” and a master at updating with pizzazz a stuffy classic, to transform “Murder in the Orient Express” (originally titled by Christie “Murder in the Calais Coach”) into a sumptuous, thoroughly diverting two-act play that injects marvelous humor into the mystery without completely sacrificing the viscera of the murderous goings-on.
            For starters, the scenic design by Paul Tate dePoo III is among the most elegant, versatile and ambient of any I’ve seen at the Globe, indoors, in quite some time. A rotating set depicts various rooms and cars aboard the famed Orient Express of the ‘30s that traveled in total luxury from Istanbul to Paris. Every detail, from the glassware on the draped tables in the dining car, to the sconced lamps and formidable wooden paneling and doors of the train’s corridors, is thoughtfully conceived and presented. Murder or not, you’d WANT to be aboard and on your way to romance and adventure.
            Complementing dePoo’s opulent design is lighting by JAX Messenger that conveys the richness of the environs and also the closed-in discomfort when the railway trip is aborted by suffocating snow. The use of projections (designed by Greg Emetaz) accomplish the illusion of the train in motion and of the storm outside. For me, they’re less effective later on when utilized for close-up character flashbacks. In fact, I could have done without any of the production’s filmed touches, including its premise-setting opening. They aren’t necessary.
            Peter Amster directed this production of Ludwig’s 2017 play in Florida at Asolo Repertory Theatre in Saratoga and has brought the same costumes and sets to this West Coast premiere. The cast is new.
            First of all, give Andrew Sellon some love for portraying Christie’s inimitable Poirot without channeling David Suchet, the quintessential HP from the wonderful British television productions. Sellon’s Poirot, not the little fastidious Belgian with the egg-shaped head at all, is just as dandified as in other portrayals, but there are nuances. He’s more explosive than Poirot is usually shown to be, more emotional, and he even flirts in this adaptation with the alluring Countess Andrenyi (Ariella Kvashny). Poirot is rarely shown on television or in film as caring anything about the opposite sex.
            It’s a little hard, I admit, for me to accept anyone as Poirot other than Suchet, but that wouldn’t be fair to Sellon, who is quite good at the Globe. He’s the anchor among the large cast, the voice of reason even when he flares, and he’s believable as a brilliant private detective.
            The aforementioned Kvashny glimmers as the mysterious Countess, and there’s a moment late in the going when she shows herself to be the strongest dramatically among the supporting cast.
            Mylinda Hull is blessed with having the most crowd-pleasing role in the show, that of American tourist Helen Hubbard. Utilizing all of Ludwig’s exquisite gifts for high comedy, she gets to sing (anyone for “Lullaby of Broadway”?), crack wise, smart off and generally play it up BIG. The lion’s share of the laughs on opening night were at Hull’s antics.
            Not unlike in Christie’s novel, the other characters/suspects (there are eight in this play as opposed to 12 in the book) are somewhat one-note types, though Karole Foreman stands out as Princess Dragomiroff, late of Bolshevik-turned Russia.
            Everyone is dressed to the ten’s by costume designer Tracy Dorman.
            So what’s the story? Right. Forgot about that. A boorish American businessman, Samuel Ratchett (Matthew Patrick Quinn) is murdered after midnight aboard the train, and everyone is a suspect. Poirot’s problem? Everyone seems to have a solid alibi.
            That’s it.
            So why’s this production so much fun? You know Poirot will figure it out, and like most murder mysteries onstage, whodunit isn’t that critical to enjoying the proceedings.
            That’s because Ludwig’s “Murder on the Orient Express” is lavishly appointed, sophisticated fun in the throwback ‘30s. One would have to be a real stick-in-the-mud not to have a swell time.
            As a Christie purist I can forgive the narrative departures because, as I said, I was never wild about the novel in the first place. I’d see the Globe show again before I’d revisit the book.
            All apologies, Dame Agatha. Your genius otherwise speaks for itself.
            “Agatha Christie’s ‘Murder on the Orient Express’” runs through Oct. 13 at the Old Globe in Balboa Park.