Wednesday, April 9th, 2008
Review: Sleuth, Grand Theatre, Wolverhampton
It seems appropriate that one of the characters in Sleuth spends a significant amount of time in a clown suit, as this production milks the comic potential of Anthony Shaffer’s twisted script.
On the opening night, underwear and cushions were hurled about with reckless abandon, threatening to bring down bits of the set. And Michael Praed finally fell foul of his size 27 feet in a pratfall behind the sofa, which appeared to leave him and co-star Simon MacCorkindale as convulsed with laughter as the audience. Whether by accident or intent it was as well executed as the rest of this slickly performed show, which also relies on deliciously barbed dialogue for its humour.