The Real Inspector Hound
C Venues, Edinburgh Festival
Dir: Ed Kiely

Four Stars

Stoppard’s Hound is a ‘who-dunnit’ which sees the playwright on unashamedly smart, if typically smug, form. He really is taking the piss; there are so many clichés in this play that, if it is not intelligently produced, one would become frustrated at the annoyingly self-conscious and, at times, superficial style of the playwright.

As theatre critics Moon (Josh Higgott) and Birdboot (Tom Barbour) sit watching a detective story unfold in a theatre, they gradually become involved in the mystery themselves. The convergence of the two plots is a clever idea, one that permits Stoppard to write both a conventional detective story of his own and, his real pleasure, a chance to comment on it with his characteristic sardonic irony. One can picture him laughing as he writes about the “strangely inaccessible” and “charming though somewhat isolating” Muldoon Manor.
Indeed, Edward Kiely’s production successfully explored the full comic potential of Stoppard’s script, whilst never overly pandering to the playwright’s insincerities. Though Stoppard is arguably right to present the ‘who-dunnit’ as an exasperatingly obvious and ultimately limited dramatic form, the characters in his play are often too clichéd. Kiely’s production, however, refreshingly rendered them into something more than simply one-dimensional caricatures.

James Arthur Sharpe’s predatory Simon moved with the smooth assurance of a leopard and spoke with the high-pitched chuckle of a pre-pubescent boy; Josh Pugh Ginn’s Magnus was every bit as convincing as the bespectacled, suspiciously crippled old man in a wheelchair with an even more suspicious recurring desire to clean his gun; whilst Aurelie Hulse’s bent-over, crooning and devious maid Felicity was a joy to watch.

The opening was too static, perhaps unavoidably so, as we witness Moon and Birdboot exchanging comments seated in theatre stalls. However, overall this was a successful double-act, and one which drove the play; Higgott’s dry and sincere Moon contrasted effectively with the more eccentric and humorous charms of Barbour’s Birdboot.

At times it felt like one was watching a game of Cluedo unfold, and yet each character possessed rich enough characterisation to simultaneously confuse and amuse the audience (and Inspector Hound.) Kiely’s direction was concise enough to allow the plot to progress with the velocity demanded by a Fringe audience, yet never at the expense of witty motifs and abundant comic touches.

Alex Winterbotham