The Hampstead Players’ February production of J.B. Priestley’s Dangerous Corner provided a fresh and emotionally rich take on an intriguing text. Dangerous Corner, Priestley’s first play, starts out like a murder mystery in the classic vein. A small group of elegant London publishers gather for drinks one evening, and quickly fall into talking – and arguing – about the suicide of Martin Caplan, a young man whose life (and death) connected them… only to realise that Martin’s death may not have been a suicide, after all. But just when the viewer begins to get comfortable with this familiar arc, Priestley shakes things up by drawing in elements of the supernatural, playing with timelines, and demonstrating how the smallest choice can lead to two radically different possible futures. Performed as a dramatized reading – essentially, a fully produced play, except that the actors have scripts available should they need them – director Simon May’s production fully explored the intimacy and strangeness of this unusual piece.
Dangerous Corner wastes no time plunging the viewer into the middle of the murder mystery plot, and lets the characters themselves slowly unfold around that intense central conflict. It’s an approach that needs a strong cast to make the characters shine through, and the Hampstead Players cast delivered in spades. Shereen Abdullah’s tremendously sympathetic performance as Olwen, the smart, uncompromising publisher who turns out to be the lynchpin of the plot, really provided the emotional core of the play; Abdullah’s subtly expressive acting as Olwen’s world fell apart around her was often heartbreaking to watch. Simon Young was equally riveting as the late Martin’s brother Robert, whose dignified and carefully controlled exterior slowly crumbles under the weight of the evening’s revelations. Adrian Hughes shone, his vibrant, charming performance as Stanton, the publishing firm’s working-class outsider, getting me to cheer him on even in Stanton’s dark and complicated moments. Richard Ward brought a real depth and subtlety to the role of Robert’s brother-in-law Gordon, who is revealed to have been in love with Martin – a powerful depiction of same-sex longing that was groundbreaking in Priestley’s day. And special mention has to go to Megan Britton as Gordon’s wife Betty, an ingénue who turns out to be less innocent than she appears. Britton played Betty as a bright young thing with a slight edge of discontent simmering under the surface, hinting even early on that her husband and his colleagues are wrong to underestimate her, and watching that side of the character slowly emerge made for fascinating viewing.
Interestingly enough, the role of Robert’s wife Freda – a slyly funny woman whose initial response to a crisis is to offer to make everyone sandwiches, but who turns out to be harbouring her own devastating secret – was played by two separate actresses over the course of the production. The always-excellent Hoda Ali delivered a moving performance on the first of the two nights, but following a last-minute emergency, Sarah Day was asked to stand in on the second night. Day did a remarkable job, especially given absolutely zero time to prepare; her take on Freda was achingly sympathetic and brimming with an infectious energy.
Dorothy Jenkins gave a delightfully wicked performance as the pot-stirring novelist Maud Mockridge, who also doubles as an occasional narrator, getting some of the best lines in the show as she archly fills us in on the secret lives and loves of the other characters. The cast was rounded out by Cameron Houston playing the role of Martin’s ghost – a bold addition to the original text that ended up paying off. Houston’s presence added a touch that was both playful and eerie at different points in the story, hinting at possible supernatural influences on the characters’ behaviour without ever providing definite answers. It fit well with Priestley’s theme of blurring the line between past and present, life and death. The ghost also moved with a grace that gave him an otherworldly feel, sneaking, gliding, or even dancing across the stage, thanks to Cristina Bancora’s fluid and elegant choreography.
The exceptional cast was showcased by Simon May’s deft direction, which kept the momentum of the story building without losing the quieter, more thoughtful character moments. May’s attention to detail helped truly bring the play to life, from the gorgeously appointed set to the historical touches: May chose to update the play to 1963, allowing him to obliquely highlight some of the themes of the piece through references to contemporary events, from the assassination of President Kennedy to the premier of Doctor Who (which brings up some interesting parallels with Dangerous Corner’s own surreal, shifting timeline).
All in all, its unusual themes and memorable performances made Dangerous Corner a thought-provoking and definitely enjoyable evening.