Rope by Patrick Hamilton *****

I would always recommend Rope the stage play over the Alfred Hitchcock movie version. Atmospheric and nail-biting though that film is, the experience of seeing the action live on stage is far more suspenseful not least because of the dramatic intensity of having the body of the undergraduate, Ronald Kentley, (or at least the illusion of it) interred on stage throughout. Patrick Hamilton’s play works; it captures that mercurial essence of theatre which is to convince the audience that they are witnessing an event, that something vital is unfolding in the present moment. This is what I hope to discover every time I visit the theatre and I am often disappointed, but it would be hard to come by a more satisfying production than Roger Michell’s Rope, currently at the Almeida theatre.

The setting is the recognizable post-war jazz age of Brideshead Revisited, populated by aristocratic undergraduates at Oxford making mischief while they are down in London for the holidays. But while the mischief is innocuous enough and the tenets of Catholicism the primary source of doubt in Brideshead, Rope has its students questioning the value of life itself leading to cruel and motiveless murder. Based on a real case, this play brings alive the true horror of the crime but, that said, it also has a tremendous comedic force. Phobe Waller-Bridge delivers a faultless turn as the irrepressibly energetic and vacuous Leila. However the truly show-stealing performance is Bertie Carvel's Rupert, with an eccentric turn of phrase and biting wit reminiscent of Brideshead's Anthony Blanche; he is the voice of experience bringing his shambling gait and incongruous tales of war into the centre of the Mayfair party scene.

The rest of the cast are strong: Alex Waldman is suitably nervous and hysterical as Granillo, Michael Elwyn is pitiable and vulnerable as Sir Johnstone, and Emma Dewhusrt brings great comic timing to the role of monosyllabic Mrs Debenham. Blake Ritson is strong as the bombastic Brandon but his delivery was slightly overdone in the opening scene. Similarly, the play closed on a weak note with the body of Ronald being revealed jack-in-the-box-like, bursting through his chest-coffin in a cloud of confetti. Perhaps it was a gesture towards the idea of Ronald's revenge but it failed and left behind an atmosphere of absurdity which did not do justice to the rest of the performance which was spirited, horrirfying edge-of-your-seat stuff.