Midsomer Murders: The Killings at Badger's Drift ★★★★

To quote a line from the TV show “Naked Video”, in honour of Scottish sleuth Jim Taggart – “There’s been a murder!” With Midsomer Murders, the perennial favourite, there have been several per episode, to be more accurate.

The picturesque but dangerous county of Midsomer seems to have experienced a possible method of murder. Who could forget Martine McCutcheon’s untimely and unpleasant demise at the hands of a giant wheel of cheese in the episode or that of Otto Benham, played by Oliver Ford Davies, who is drugged, staked out on a painted target on a lawn, and pelted with bottles of champagne from a homemade trebuchet?

Fun fact: Midsomer Murders is credited with more murders per episode than any other British television detective drama. 2.8 per episode, to be precise. (How you might murder 0.8 of a person is still up for debate.) One thing not up for debate is that the fictional county of Midsomer is not a safe place to live.

Caroline Graham’s Midsomer Murders first aired in 1997, with The Killings at Badgers Drift being the pilot episode. One could be forgiven for questioning whether or not, 28 years after its first episode aired, a hit TV show about a detective in a supposedly sleepy English county might translate well to the stage.

The simple truth is that it does.

Peace in the quiet little English hamlet of Badgers Drift is abruptly shattered by the murder of one Emily Simpson, the local amateur horticulturalist, which is initially passed off as a heart attack by the local doctor. However, her close friend Miss Bellringer (Julie Legrand – To Kill a Mockingbird) believes that foul play has occurred, a fact that will be substantiated later by autopsy.

When the body count doesn’t stop there, Badgers Drift descends into panic. As Tom Barnaby (played by Daniel Casey, the original Sergeant Troy in the TV series) and Sergeant Troy (James Bradwell – Bridgerton, Holby City) investigate, soon the chaotic interpersonal relationships of the villagers are revealed, and the sleuthing duo uncover a link between a historic crime and the current spate of murders.

It will not come as a surprise that collars are felt by Barnaby and Troy, with the Sergeant’s comment in the very last scene of the play revealing the final piece to a convoluted jigsaw puzzle that will make you laugh as well as think.

This masterful reworking by Guy Unsworth, who both penned and directed this adaptation, manages to be true to its origins whilst breathing new life into the first ever televised episode. No mean feat. The storyline holds true to form, but what adds value to the brilliant original writing is the tongue-in-cheek humour injected by Unsworth alongside an adventurous plot. It initially reads like a classic-style ‘whodunnit’, but delivers much more.

Unsworth brings comedy and lashings of eccentricity to a play which, given its origins back in 1997, also contains historic references (Sergeant Troy manually winding down a car window, and one of the characters comments about ‘posting a cheque to a catalogue company’, for example).

All the cast genuinely deserve acclaim, with most playing two or three roles. The interrogation scene with Barbara Lessiter and Dickie Whiteley, both played at the same time by Chandrika Chevli, is brilliantly done. Rupert Sadler‘s portrayal of Dennis Rainbird is delightfully over the top. The scene where he offers tea and cake to Sergeant Troy is memorable. He enters the stage pushing a cake trolley, which squeaks rhythmically as he pushes it slowly and then proceeds to draw out the maximum comedy. The accomplished Nathalie Barclay plays it largely straight as Judy Lessiter / Katharine Lacey, opposite Rupert Sadler again as her brother Michael Lacey, the tortured artist. Chris Agha and Rhiannon Crowley-McLean round off the cast and are versatile, capable and experienced.

The action takes place in a multitude of different locations; designer David Woodhead‘s scenery changes are minimalistic, quick and seamless, ensuring that continuity and narrative momentim is preserved, and Max Pappenheim’s musical score adds to the production’s suspense.

Midsomer Murders: The Killings at Badger’s Drift is a thoroughly enjoyable detective romp, that delivers the charm and wit of the TV series to the stage.