The Irish Theatre Magazine
Reviewed 28 July

In his famous parody of the cut-throat West End theatre scene, the brief and brilliant The Real Inspector Hound, Tom Stoppard describes London's theatre critics with little affection. Pompous, verbose, envious, long-winded, living vicariously and obsessed with their own self-importance and pride in seeing things that are simply not there, the critics' ability to make or break a play, director or actor endows them with far too much power. Fortunately, Dingle's long-established Beehive Theatre Company is not often subject to such critical attack, defending an enviably promininant position on Corca Dhuibhne as the only theatre company for an isthmus or two producing a workmanlike sell-out run all summer-long.

On the front row of the stalls, two critics wait for the start of a popular 'who-dunnit' (a blatant poke at Agatha Christie's long-running The Mousetrap). Paranoid about each other's opinion of the play, competing for column inches with other critics, enamoured of the leading ladies and beset by their own personal problems, their world and the theatrical intrigue in front of them intertwine. The genre's improbable twists, appalling stereotyping and ludicrously contrived theatrical devices are repeated, magnified and mocked but nothing is what it seems and both critics become more involved in the play than they would ever have imagined. Finally, the action on stage becomes inseparable from the narrative in the stalls, and any theatrical 'fourth-wall', conventions or traditions are thoroughly trounced.

Stoppard's knowingly clever script may touch upon weighty matters such as the nature of reality and fate, but Beehive focus on the work's farcical elements. In fact, director Wendela Rosenberg Polak has chosen this play wisely for a cast and crew of differing experience: there is little subtlety required here in the portrayal of caricature and therefore no harm in a bit of heavy hamming. The most accomplished is Malcolm George as Birdboot, with his sharp comic timing working well with the young Fionn O'Neill as his critic-at-arms, Moon. Trish Howley does well as charlady/ busy-body drudge and Slaine Ní Chathalláin is a suitably irritating simpering love-interest.

Likewise, if designer Malcolm George's perfectly distressed set creaks a bit, if the audience's fight for a seat necessitates sharing, and if the indefatigable Polak lengthily and loudly castigates the house about their mobile phones, for sitting on the stage and for nipping out to the toilet just before curtain up, then this too fits a piece about the vagaries of the theatre. Irony piles upon irony as the Beehive Theatre Company itself eventually becomes part of the subject matter of the evening and thus a new play about a play within a play evolves. Stoppard might have liked this.

Well-paced, aware of its audience and, above all, demonstrating an astute use of available resources, this solid and functioning production packs the Beehive Theatre at the Cúilín weekly and will continue to tempt critics, of various qualities, away from Dingle's other considerable summery attractions.

Matthew Harrison





THE REAL INSPECTOR HOUND
by Tom Stoppard
BEEHIVE THEATRE, CUÍLIN
From the West Kerry Live
Issue 53 July21st August 3rd 2011

Tom Stoppard is all about verbal fireworks, and The Real Inspector Hound provides a magnificent display, inspired - or possibly provoked-  by the playwright's stint as a theatre critic in the 1960s, when plays like Agatha Christie's The Mousetrap was drawing crowds in London's West End (incredibly, it still is!). Stoppard's take on the country house murder is at once satire, existential musing  and hilarious farce, with the emphasis in this production on the latter. The formula will be immediately familiar to fans of Marple and Poirot (not to mention Inspector Clouseau): the country house, the bright young gal, the lady of the manor, the eccentric charlady, the Woosterish Young Man about Town, the improbably bearded old chap in the wheelchair, the bumpkin policeman. Not forgetting the fog which threatens to isolate the household, the missing husband and the escaped murderer.  So far so familiar, but then you notice the corpse under the sofa, which everyone on stage ignores, and the critics perched stage right like Statler and Waldorf from the Muppet Show, busily engaged in writing their reviews, lusting after the leading lady,  and worrying what their rivals are up to. With all this happening at once,  Hound can feel like not so much a who dunnit as a what-the-hell-is-going-on, especially when the critics get drawn into the action, the third act dialogue seems strangely familiar, and still no one notices the dead body.  But the sight gags and the cracking pace that director Wendela Rosenberg Polak has achieved from a top class cast keep you laughing all the way through. Trish Howley as Mrs Drudge is a comic cameo to treasure. Slaine NíCháthalláin as Felicity and Geraldine Martin as Lady Cynthia have the English upper class to a T (or should that be tea?).  Aidan O'Shea's Simon Gascoyne is wonderfully menacing behind his twitching eye brows and shooting cuffs; Boris Nicholson as the improbable Major Magnus Muldoon delivers more than one brilliant performance as well as a magnificent coup de theatre.  The critics cope with panache – a favourite word of theirs - with their load of verbiage, put across with admirable clarity by Fionn O'Neill as Moon, while Malcolm George as Birdboot goes right over the top in a hilarious Groucho-inspired performance.   Just as the action threatens to flag,  Mike Venner's Inspector Hound ratchets it all up another notch, as well as achieving a real characterisation of the hapless Plod. Veronique Gerber's costumes and Malcolm George's design are a pleasure.  Never mind who dunnit - it's a great night out.
Camilla Dinkel  

Light-hearted play in Dingle venue
By Joanne Ni Shuilleábhain
Kerryman Newspaper


Fancy a light-hearted whodunit with all the trappings?
An isolated manor surrounded by desolate marshes, a murder victim, a madman at large, cut telephone lines and two beautiful ladies vying for the affections of a dapper, but slightly dubious gentleman.
The Beehive Theatre’s production of Tom Stoppard’s “The Real Inspector Hound” presents all of the above, in a most entertaining manner which guarantees the audience in Dingle just over an hour of pure escapism sprinkled with humour.
Stoppard’s play is a parody of the conventional murder mystery and contains all of the necessary ingredients and characters. It also goes beyond the traditional.
The boundaries between audience and stage become blurred when Moon and Birdboot, two theatre critics who bombard the audience with their lofty and pompous musings, are drawn into the drama unfolding before them, while watching the murder mystery.
In this superb adaptation produced by Wendela Rosenberg Polak, the characters are wonderfully portrayed, particularly the alluring Lady Muldoon played by Geraldine Martin and Slaine Ní Chathalláin as the scorned ingénue.
Once again, the Beehive’s ever-present attention to detail and creativity is obvious in the costumes and stage setting.
A wander down to Cuilín on this Thursday evening just before 8pm is highly recommended.