Alfred Hitchcock Presents musical at Theatre Royal Bath – review

Well, this is a curio, a brand-new musical by the writers of A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder, having a regional UK premiere in Bath, given a well-considered production by veteran John Doyle and featuring an elite ensemble, an Avengers: Endgame of musical theatre troopers, giving polished high-sheen work to carefully toiled material.

And this substance is always interesting. Taking inspiration from the 268 half-hour installments of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, which was a television mainstay for ten years in the ’50s and ’60s, this musical by Jay Dyer and Steven Lutvak, is an episodic joyride through murder and intrigue, featuring desperate damsels, sly conmen, and worn-down cops.

The show wears jazz influence on its sleeve, from Chicago to City of Angels. Yet with its multiple, sporadically linked storylines, it struggles to work out how to end, a first act that builds up its converging arcs, a second half that meanders without purpose. Most notably, this is demonstrated by a storyline where Liam Tamne’s man sings a mysterious chorus from a rooftop throughout the first act, only for its story to be resolved with little more than a shrug in the second act. If musicals ultimately live or die by the book, this sung-through show proves that the structure also has to be right; if it has no end, it has no chance, full stop. Ultimately, Alfred Hitchcock Presents – The Musical becomes a work that possesses a couple of numbers that should become cabaret staples, in need of a show to give them purpose.

Yet it’s still a show worth catching, for its slick black and white aesthetic from costume designer Jonathan Lipman, lit with sculptural precision by Johanna Town, and a design from Doyle and David L Aresenault that turns the Theatre Royal into a television studio, the back walls revealed, and large cameras pulling out and moving in for both wide shots and closeups.

When push comes to shove, though, it’s the cast who sell this one, and they are producing wonderful work. It’s a piece that embeds leads into an ensemble, and each of the performers gets a moment in the sun. The pick of them is Sally Ann Triplett, who is having a gloriously varied couple of years after her work as Gran in the National’s delightful The Witches and a couple of takeovers in the highly acclaimed Oklahoma! and Cabaret. Here, as a homicidal landlady, she brings a wildness, matched with peerless technique that shows that musical theatre needs to continue to find roles for performers who still deserve the spotlight after their juvenile days are gone.

Scarlett Strallen makes a welcome return to our shores as a Stepford wife, whose perma-grin and Betsy Draper do can’t hide the murder-obsessed housewife who finally snaps. Her big number, demonstrating her soprano coloratura, is a hark back to her role singing “Vanilla Ice Cream” in She Loves Me, a moment of pure delectation. Heavenly vocals are also brought from, among others, Alistair Brammer as a convict who meets an unlikely hostage, Nicola Hughes as a femme fatale, and Damian Humbley as the man she tries to con.

It all adds up to an evening well spent, without ever convincing that it is a musical destined to find its place on the Great White Way. If you can, let go of needing a coherent plot; its murderously slick presentation should keep you tuned in.