An Inspector Calls
J.B. Priestley's thought-provoker raises two initial questions: whodunit, and why has an inspector named Goole (pronounced "ghoul") come to the Birling's stately home? Arthur Birling just gave an impassioned speech about being responsible only to oneself and the masses be damned. What connection could the social elite have with the alleged suicide of a dirt-poor woman? The inspector - and just who IS this guy, a Sherlock Holmes of the conscience? - retraces the family's tracks in search of the culprit. For Lamb's Players, Mike Buckley's stylish Edwardian set rises from a dirt floor, where impeccably polished shoes leave footprints. Robert and Deborah Gilmour Smyth codirected this taut, trimmed (from three acts to 90 minutes) staging. The cast almost tells the story with their eyes alone. Sudden flashes of recognition, or entrapment, break through serene façades. These aren't melodramatic asides but looks reflecting a fear that things aren't what they seem - and never were.
Worth a try.
When
Ongoing until Sunday, March 21, 2010
Hours
| Sundays, 2pm |
| Tuesdays, 7:30pm |
| Wednesdays, 7:30pm |
| Thursdays, 7:30pm |
| Fridays, 8pm |
| Saturdays, 4pm & 8pm |