Review: Snake in the Grass

Alan Ayckbourn’s 2002, Snake in the Grass may not number among his greatest works, but it certainly provides meaty, memorable characters for the cast to dig into.

This fun three-hander opens on a middle-aged Annabel’s (Dierdre Davis), return from Australia to her English childhood home. Daddy’s dead, and his estate is up for inheritance. Wandering Jen McGinley’s gorgeously realised suburban back garden complete with mouldering summerhouse and overgrown tennis court, she runs into Alice (Ann Louise Ross) – Daddy’s former nurse.

Attempted extortion is nobody’s idea of a nice welcome home, and yet that’s what Alice has to offer. Pay up, or else the malfeasant nurse will accuse Annabel’s sister Miriam (Emily Winter) of murdering their father, and produce a letter accusing her of such, written by their father before his fatal tumble down the stairs.

“…it certainly provides meaty, memorable characters for the cast to dig into.”

Annabel’s instinct is to tell the other woman to go whistle, except the rather frazzled Miriam insists on confessing her guilt on request. “I’m a mess,” she insists with comedic repetition on their sororal reunion, and she’s right.

These are three actors at the height of their powers and enjoying their richly-written parts. Louise Ross offers a suitably odious, and self-assured opportunist, whilst Winter has mastered the art of poisonously barbed politeness in return. Winter, tossed the peachiest part, doesn’t fumble her catch even a little. Wild-eyed euphoria on regaining her long-lost sister settles into a quieter mania, pondering jail whilst plotting to avoid it. Consistently compelling, she offers a sympathetic, funny, and somewhat menacing turn in equal portions.

The three gel easily throughout, the dialogue energised but unrushed, offering ample laughs, whilst the action delivers increasingly frequent ‘Oh My!’ moments a la George Takei. Director Andrew Panton juggles the light with the dark well and powers his production with a fraught, but playful energy.

The result is an entertaining lark, somewhere between the darker Ealing comedies and Hitchcock. Niroshini Thambar’s increasingly sinister piano-based soundtrack only emphasises the production’s cinematic qualities. Emily left alone with their perverted tyrant of a father at only 9, yearns to reconnect, but struggles to forgive. Annabel, bullied out of their home and to the other side of the world, just wants to sell up and get out. Alice, for her part, all but begs to be done in, but she does it in style.

“Winter, tossed the peachiest part, doesn’t fumble her catch even a little.”

Ayckbourn saves the horror for later in our acquaintance with the trio, as Miriam insists that she and Anabel exchange their ghost stories before retiring from a moonlit garden. It’s only then that Annabel is made to confront the nightmare she left her sister to face alone. Her answering tale of domestic abuse is met with a mix of sympathy…and satisfaction. Everyone’s being haunted in this play, not by the supernatural, but by their past.

It’s a dark moment, in a darkened garden, well-judged, and a little spine-tingling. It’s one of several scenes which make rather satisfactory sense once the play’s ending delivers a hefty sting. That said, the second act could spend a little more time building the psychological threat towards the catastrophic finale. This short post-intermission also leaves a little too much unsaid between the two sisters, eschewing messy humanity for tidy plotting.

On the other hand, there’s much to be said for a play which is just a fun, somewhat surprising play. Not every outing to the theatre has to invite a conversation on the deep waters of the human condition.

In this respect, this production offers a gorgeous night out in the company of a great trio of talented performers. If it’s well-observed characters and a tasty little comedy thriller you’re looking for, then Dundee Rep’s Snake in the Grass is the play for you.

All Images: (Tommy Ga-Ken Wan)