Review: Death Comes to Pemberley

Here is an entertaining historical whodunnit set in Britain’s Regency era – the period 1795 to 1837, when George III was indisposed by madness. In this stage adaptation of PD James' sequel to Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, the two principal characters are living happily ever after in Darcy’s magnificent pile, Pemberley.

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OUR VERDICT

For six years, all has been a stately progress towards parenthood, the enjoyment of maturity, and the marriage prospects of the next generation. What could go wrong in such a rural paradise?

Suddenly, a 91-year-old author from the 21^st Century imposes a grisly murder in their midst.

It seems that Darcy’s lifetime rival, Elizabeth’s brother-in-law, the charming rogue and fortune hunter, George Wickham, discovered, soaked in blood, next to the body, must be responsible. But who did it really? Ultimately, Elizabeth Darcy née Bennet must become a Miss Marple to identify the killer and rescue her sister’s husband from the noose. 

We should put aside Austen and James for a moment to experience the play at face value as a normal whodunnit set in a country house in 1803. That is the best way to enjoy this costume drama.

You need to stay alert and notice who is burning a letter in the night, and who is withholding letters, when and why.

Who has the means, the motive and the opportunity? And what’s with the Bidwells, the poor family living in a cottage on the estate? They are absent (as are other ordinary folk) from Pride and Prejudice, but could be crucial here, or only multiple red herrings.

Overall, the production, though effective, is uneven, a little less than top-notch. 

One instance from a dozen: having a backdrop of the rolling English countryside as the wall of Wickham’s prison cell?! But the large cast (all 14 of them) is a delight, particularly James Bye as a sensitive Darcy, unrecognisable after ten years as ruffian Martin Fowler in EastEnders; and one would never guess that, incredibly, this is the theatrical debut of the admirable Jamie-Rose Duke, who plays Elizabeth. The others are equally accomplished.

At one point, Sam Woodhams, playing Wickham, takes his top off to be given an affectionate rub-down by Elizabeth. He is lean and muscular, like one of the guys on Love Island —a dash of male totty to please the three-fifths of the audience who are female.

And this is the crux: in order to survive, the commercial theatre must pander to the audience, lead them on, and if that means sweet hooks like Jane Austen and PD James, hench torsos and soap stars, to bring the punters in, well, it was always thus.

However, someone needs to say that in the entirety of Austen, there are only two deaths, both reported, not described. In Emma, Mrs Churchill, who never appears, and the glutton, Dr Grant, appear at the end of Mansfield Park.

There was plenty of serious crime in Regency England, but not in Austen’s highly focused fictional world.

PD James only uses the basic framework of relationships in Austen’s novel. Since the period detective story is successful in its own terms, except for publicity, there was no need to mash Austen with James. Yet if the piggy-back on Austen was necessary to give James’ clever whodunnit life, it was worth the mashing.

Book tickets to see it at Richmond Theatre before September 13th.