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Show n 1 Page Bl Thursday, October 7, 1982 OfllDQ(BJing jJQlC I ! 'Ten Little Indians' supplies mystery and laughs I ByRickBrough Despite all the dead bodies lying about, the performers in the PCP production of "Ten Little Indians" survive A the evening quite nicely, thank you. In terms of acting quality, no one really dies on stage, although there are casualties, ranging from f, flesh wounds on some actors to cases in intensive care. But the plot is a sure-fire audience-pleaser. Director Don Gomes has astutely cast many of the roles. And the response from the cast has ensured a fine old spooky time at the theater. The story is one of the great standards of detective fiction. Ten strangers are , invited to a deserted island off the coast of Devon, and upon cross-checking, find . they have all been lured there on different pretexts. Their host, Mr. Owen, is nowhere to be seen. Then a voice on a record j player accuses each guest of murder, and tells them they have been stranded on the island to await "judgment." A rhyme about ten little Indians sets the pattern. After a few of the guests have been bumped off one is poisoned by cyanide, one is stabbed the survivors reach an even more chilling conclusion. The killer is one of them! The play, written back in the 1940s, is full of Agatha Christie's dry humour, melodramatic twists, and campy dialogue! Director Gomes wisely directs his cast to play it with straight-faced straight-faced savoir-faire. Occasionally Occa-sionally this creates problems prob-lems of timing. When a comic line, intentional or not, triggers laughter in the audience, the cast keeps talking before the chuckles have died down, and you lose . some of the speech. Like the killer, a critic has the pleasant task of ticking off "judgments," one by one, on the cast. To begin on a high note, Richard Scott has created another excellent lead performance as the soldier of fortune, Captain Lombard. His first few buoyant lines seem like j over-acting at first, but once j you acquire the taste for them, they set the perfect tone for the play. Without doing anything especially ; dashing, Scott evokes a character who is reckless ! and wild maybe to a point of being crazy? with a certain residue of bitterness to him. Barbara Titensor gives the 1 most impressive perfor mance by a novice that I think I've seen on the Park City stages. As secretary Vera Claythorne, she has to progress from easy socio-bility socio-bility to hysteria with a lot of shocked "Oh my goodness" good-ness" dialogue along the way. She makes it all look natural and easy. And her convincing fright toward the play's end does a lot to jack up the suspense in the audience. If I asked anything of her, it would be that she and Scott could push the comedy a bit more in their flirting scene. Among the supporting suspects, sus-pects, Dick Cummings doesn't have quite the same success with Judge Lawrence Law-rence Wargrave. He doesn't bring out the quiet irritated irony in some of the judge's statements. A big part of the problem is the role itself. While he's on the scene, the judge is the one who collects and considers con-siders evidence. He's an expository character, and unlike several other characters, char-acters, he's not broadly eccentric. Cummings doesn't have something to peg the character on, and he seems to fall back into a somber shadow of his old role as Pickering in "My Fair Lady." But the judge does have an odd streak. He egotistically likes to "hold court" and assume authority in the deadly situation. Maybe Gomes could get together with Cummings, and work out some line readings or gestures that explicitly evoke a condescending jurist in his courtroom. Jere Calmes gives one of his best performances as the detective, William Blore, who's not as good a game-player game-player as he thinks he is. Blore has a lot of funny business in the early scenes he makes frequent trips to the, liquor cabinet and Calmes capitalizes on the opportunity to create a vivid character. Afterwards, when the play is full of plot twists and deaths, he maintains a sure grip on the detective's sneering, slightly sotted demeanor. Another player with a firm handle on her character is Robin Riley. As the puritani- Barbara Titensor gives the most impressive performance perform-ance by a newcomer that I've seen on the Park City stages. cal Emily Brent, she draws nervous laughter from the audience because she seems to dare anyone in the theater to challenge her moralistic view of things. When she describes how she berated a young unwed mother, who thereupon committed suicide sui-cide Riley makes herself the most popular candidate for extinction. Two actors, returned to the stage after a long absence, succeed in their roles. Mike Phillips makes Gen. Mac Kenzie a senile, touching gent. He has captured the faffling rhythm of the old soldier's speech, even if he doesn't quite show the pride in the general, which led him to victimize his wife's lover. Clayton Maw is a charmer as the dim-witted playboy, Anthony Marston. Although Maw has a light voice that is hard to hear sometimes, he makes his character grossly irresponsible and childishly childish-ly likeable all at the same time. It's regrettable that Chuck Folkerth didn't have a better time with the nervous Dr. Armstrong. His voice doesn't seem comfortable yet with the English accent. He can capture the doctor's moods of pomposity or the fits of frenzy. But Folkerth acts as if he's chafed by the character charac-ter as a whole. Dick Mitchell acts with his usual brisk manner, but in this case that isn't enough. His character, the manservant manser-vant Rogers, is an exceedingly exceed-ingly nervous type, so Mitchell Mit-chell has to push the character charac-ter much more toward hysteria. Madeline Smith, as Mrs. Rogers, needs to do the same, especially since she is seen briefly. She should show that her household fussiness really masks a high-strung personality. Novice Craig Murley, as the boatman Narracott, doesn't have time to leave an impression, but has the unpleasant task of "breaking the ice" with the audience-he's audience-he's one of the first on stage. He should perhaps remember remem-ber to speak loud and act scruffy. Gomes has a complicated task of handling a 10-person 10-person ensemble, who must move around the room gracefully and leave no dead air in the conversation. In addition, the killer from time to time performs sleight-of-hand killings in full view of the audience, and the movements move-ments must be precise enough to give us clues to the murderer. With all this to do, it's no wonder the pace plods a bit, but I don't think it becomes a major problem. The players must be on their guard to be loud, since they are often seated at the back of the stage, facing away from the audience, or drowned out by thunder. At the opening-night beginning of Act 2, they were in particular danger of fading out. Don Gomes and Milo Marse use the lighting well to increase the spooky atmosphere. at-mosphere. One superbly staged bit comes when the lights go out, and a victim is silhouetted against the windows. win-dows. At the sound of a pistol shot, the silhouette falls as if its strings were cut. Ruth Ann Fitzgerald has done some nice work in costuming. With characters like Marston and Blore, their clothes betray their personalities per-sonalities before they speak a word. The efficient set is by Gomes, Steve Hunt, and Dan Nestel. What's left? We have to mention the performance of the killer, exposed in the last act. This performer drops the personality he-she has heretofore assumed, and delivers a mad scene in the fruity tradition of Vincent Price, with ghoulish laughter, laugh-ter, wild eyes, and droll humour. The performance could have been outlandish while being more subtle. But there was something satisfying satisfy-ing about the way this artist brought the play to a hammy crescendo. In fact, you should know precisely who I'm talking about. The killer in "Ten Little Indians" is Wait! What was that?... No, put down that copy knife, I really won't tell... Help! Ouch! E.T., come home...! Aaaaarrrrrrgggghhhhhh ! "Ten Little Indians" will play Oct. 7-9. Admission is $7 for nonmembers and $5.50 for members. For further information call 649-9371. 1800 Park Avenue, P O. Box 1921. Contact Gordon Wirick Capson-Morris-McComb 649-8601 Right: Is Richard Scott the killer? 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