The ushers are transformed, erect at their stations, hands behind their backs, in waistcoats or new Mousetrap sweatshirts, pony tails scraped back. The audience, for the sparsely attended shows early in the week, appear to be deliberately seated in clusters. But once inside the dark-wood auditorium, the empty rows seem not to matter. The lighting is dim and warm. Introductory piano music tinkles.
Couples gulp down gin and tonics in the snug bars and giggle conspiratorially.
The play creaks comfortably along. Lines are bellowed. Clues are given with emphasis. Poses are struck and held for whole minutes. A revolver is produced at the climax, and then, once all has been resolved, there is a reconciliation scene involving a hat box from Harrods.