Murder for Two – Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough

Book/Music: Joe Kinosian

Book/Lyrics: Kellen Blair

Director: Caroline Leslie

Murder for Two has become an international phenomenon in the last decade and a half, but it’s doubtful if any production has been as totally crazy (or as long) as this or witnessed such gloriously virtuosic (not to say, over the top) acting.

The decision by director Caroline Leslie and designer Jess Curtis to set the whole thing in a BBC studio in 1959, with a live broadcast scheduled at the last minute, explains why two hapless actors are faced with the problem of doing the play with minimum preparation. It also opens up the glorious world of Foley effects, though the comic value of these does tend to diminish with over-exposure. Curtis’ set features, most importantly, a grand piano, together with all the implements for Foley work. The date 1959 also poses a question: why is the splendid pre-play music all from 20 years earlier?

Joe Kinosian and Kellen Blair say the play came from the liking of both of them for Agatha Christie and the Marx Brothers. The story concerns the murder of distinguished novelist Arthur Whitney by any one of a dozen suspects. Patrolman Marcus Moscowicz sets out to investigate in the absence of the detective who is “out of town”; he brings with him a silent invisible partner, Lou. Chief among the suspects are Dahlia, the domineering widow, Dr. Griff, the heavily accented psychiatrist, and Barrette Lewis, the constantly pirouetting ballerina. A self-appointed assistant is more trouble than she is worth – or is she? A second murder sends us to the interval more confused than ever.

Though the play runs far longer than the interval-free 90 minutes of the original production, the pace is relentless and occasionally confusing, with constant character and accent changes and an undying stream of sound effects.  Lucy Keirl pulls out all the stops as all the suspects, switching accents mid-sentence and stance mid-movement, dancing crazily round the stage as Barrette, exchanging knowing looks with the audience – it’s an astonishing performance. Tom Babbage is confined to the part of Marcus Moscowicz, dourly puzzled and (to begin with) deadpan in contrast to Keirl, but gradually drawn into the overall mayhem.

Both of them know how to put over a song and, most significantly, prove a highly comical double act at the piano. Remarkably their antics in a four-hander at the piano after the finish of the play produce probably the biggest laughs of the evening. The songs, by the way, are witty and tuneful, with a touch of parody never too far away.

It’s difficult to know how much is improvised; certainly the involvement of, and interplay with, the audience is considerable. All in all it’s a manically comic evening, faintly exhausting for the audience – and how much more so for the cast?

Runs until 18 April 2026