This weekend I saw the State College Community Theatre’s (SCCT) production of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None directed by Eli Beers-Altman and assistant directed by Joe Appel. Our story begins with eight very different house guests, eccentric in their own ways, arriving at an isolated mansion situated on an island just off the coast of Devon. They are tended to by two married domestic servants, Mr. Rogers (played by Phillip Zapkin) and Mrs. Rogers (played by Fiona Mulley), who prepare the house for the guests’ arrival. During that first evening, after all of the guests had arrived, Mr. Rogers puts on a record titled “Swan Song,” as he was instructed to do via a letter left by the assumed master of the house—an unknown Owen—whom, we find, Rogers has never met. Instead of mood music, the gramophone bellows a recording accusing all ten people—the eight house guests and the Rogers—of crimes that had gone unpunished by the law. Soon, they start dying, picked off one by one. The remaining guests conclude that the murderer must be one of their own.

The banter between the Rogers when they are alone provides a bit of levity and tension release, particularly when Mr. Rogers gossips about the cheapness of Blore’s underwear and he pulls dust rag after dust rag out of his pockets handing them to Mrs. Rogers.

It was a star-studded cast of community theatre notables, including: Brandon Smith, Heidi Cole, Rod Egan, Mercer Bristow, and Jared Kehler. One of my favorite scenes is the first death scene when young Anthony Marston (Smith) dies. He takes a swig of whiskey and begins to choke mid-sentence. At first, his expression is confused. Then, as he struggles to breathe, his expression turns to panic. He doubles over the bar presumed to be reaching for water he can’t find. His face reddens from the coughing. Then, he falls to the floor facing the audience and lies motionless for the rest of the scene. The audience is startled and completely captivated while the cast reacts in horror—all except Emily Brent (Cole) who just keeps knitting. Cole’s portrayal of Emily Brent evokes strong feelings of suspicion in the audience. Did she do it? Is she the murderer? What’s really behind Brent’s piously stoic demeanor? The audience gossiped and theorized about Ms. Brent’s involvement at intermission.

At the height of the play’s tension, when Sir Lawrence Wargrave (Egan) and Vera (played by Hilary Caldwell) are mostly alone, Egan embodies an authority figure gone mad convincingly. Vera trips over the rug in the center of the room landing her on the floor at Wargrave’s feet and in a position of seemingly powerlessness as Wargrave approaches her with a noose in his hands. The lights take on a red hue, which makes Wargrave look even more sinister as he creeps toward her unblinking. 

Performed at the Boal Barn Playhouse, the location contributed to the isolated feeling the play requires particularly in the evening scene in Act III when few characters are left alive. Vera, Lombard (played by Rob Burns), and Blore (played by Jared Kehler) huddle around candles hungry and exhausted. The house lights reflect a blue hue highlighting the aged wood of the barn and layers of paint while intensifying the feeling of emptiness—of both the mansion and the characters’ stomachs.

Under the direction of Beers-Altman and Appel, all cast members gave a compelling performance (includes those not mentioned by name in this review) that accentuated the quirkiness of their characters and provided room for audience suspicion to grow up until each character’s death. It was a spectacular production of suspense that left audience members guessing whodunnit right up until the end.