REVIEW: The Mousetrap - Nash Theatre

The Mousetrap – New Farm Nash Theatre

Written by Agatha Christie

Directed by Sharon White

As is customary, the last performance of the year at New Farm Nash Theatre takes us into Agatha Christie territory, which means two things: an abundance of suspicious characters and a vow that I must never reveal the murderer's identity to anyone. I take my oath very seriously… Although I did quietly guess correctly right near the end and feel extremely smug about it.

The Mousetrap first hit the stage in 1952 and holds the title of the world’s longest-running play. Under Sharon White’s direction, its vintage charm is beautifully honoured, with the script serving up a buffet of clues, contradictions, twists, accusations, and red herrings, all delivered through genuine drama and self-parody.

For a short, spoiler-free synopsis: The Mousetrap follows a newly married couple, Mollie and Giles Ralston, who have just opened their remote country guesthouse during a heavy winter snowfall. As their guests arrive one by one, news breaks of a recent murder in London. When a police detective reaches the house on skis, he warns that the killer may be hiding among them. With the phone line cut, the roads blocked, and every guest harbouring secrets, tensions rise as the unwilling group attempts to uncover the truth before another murder takes place.... Dun dun dun!

Designed by Sharon White, Phil Carney, and Rob Crook, the set places us in the front room of the cozy British guesthouse. Picture green walls, a multitude of doorways, period furniture, embroidered artwork, a rug by the fireplace, a crackling radio, a writing desk, and luggage that looks as if it has lived many lives. It’s described as a “bit of a maze” and it certainly feels like one. There’s so much for the eye to catch, and it creates a deliciously claustrophobic space for this group of strangers who suddenly find themselves snowed in and forced to get along. Or not... Who knows?

Helen Barrett and Matthew Hobbs star as Mollie and Giles Ralston. Matthew stepped into the role only two weeks ago, which is wild, because his dry wit and grumpy-gentleman presence fits right into the show’s rhythm. Their arguments feel incredibly real, especially as the paranoia in the house rises. Helen brings a sweet innocence to Mollie, always smiling/grimacing even when she probably shouldn’t be. I find myself wishing for even more emotional punch from her big dramatic beats, but she handles the sheer volume of dialogue with impressive dedication.

The guests themselves are absolute characters. Brendan James as Christopher Wren is chatty, excitable, and bouncing off the walls like a kid who’s had too much cake at a birthday party. Chris Sibley’s Mrs Boyle is the “perfectly horrid woman” everyone loves to hate. She sweeps through rooms with wild eyes and a tongue sharp enough to slice through any peaceful moment. Matt McNeice’s Major Metcalfe is as friendly and warm as a cozy Irish pub. Philippa Dwyer’s Miss Casewell is a standout for me, sharp and composed with a mysterious air that keeps my attention every second she’s onstage.

Then there's John Stibbard playing Mr. Paravicini, the "unexpected guest" who seems like he just stepped out of a gothic Italian opera. He's theatrical, intimidating, and has this creepy demeanour that makes the audience squirm and chuckle at the same time. He glances directly at audience members to make us uneasy (but technically he’s just staring at the wall). It’s such a clever, unnerving effect. One of my favourite little lines of the night comes from Mr Paravicini, who looks Mollie dead in the eye and purrs, “You and your husband are very trusting…”

At last, Tyson Hargreaves bursts in as Detective Sergeant Trotter, the dashing cockney cop who insists, “this is a serious mah-ah!” His arrival accelerates the tension. Suddenly, clues pop up like everywhere, accusations fly, and the whole house turns into a tangled web of “he said, she said.” There are no phones, no fact-checking, and the unsettling realisation that every person in this house is carrying a past they would rather hide. The fun is trying to figure out who is here by coincidence and who is absolutely not.

Phil Carney’s lighting and sound design support the mystery well, especially the dramatic radio music and the recurring, creepy tune of “Three Blind Mice.” Every time it plays, the tension in the room tightens. Costumes and hairdos suit the time period pretty nicely, with coats, hats, gloves and layers to emphasise how cold it is outside. The accents throughout the show are mostly well done, with the cast leaning into various flavours of British regional dialects.

What I really admire is how Sharon White leans into the self-parody of Christie’s writing (and the whole detective mystery genre) without ever mocking it. She lets the humour coexist comfortably alongside the tension; like “There are more important things than meals!”, as Mollie tries to duck out of a murder interrogation so she can go cook dinner. Priorities... I get the sense that Sharon White has told every actor from day one to behave like they are the killer, and it works, for I am constantly adjusting my inner suspect list. The audience was thoroughly engaged throughout, letting out dramatic gasps and buzzing with whispered theories.

To the performer behind the murder… the way you shifted character to unleash that charged intensity in the reveal was genuinely chilling. It looked like an absolute thrill for you to play that role. Bravo.

Tickets are wonderfully affordable, which makes this a great night out for anyone who loves a classic mystery. The season wraps up on 6 December, so make sure you grab a ticket here while you can.

My lips are now sealed.