Curtain Up

by Julius Green

  Following its Dundee premiere, though, there was no news of Hidden Horizon for over a year. Agatha occasionally referred to the lack of progress in letters to Max but, after her initial optimism that it would be easy to finance, seems to have given up on the idea and turned her attention instead to a stage adaptation of another of her novels.

  In May 1944, with his production of Ten Little Niggers still running in the West End, Bertie Meyer acquired the option to produce Christie’s own stage adaptation of her 1938 novel Appointment with Death.21 Neither Farndale nor the PES were involved on this occasion; instead, in November 1944, Meyer entered into a co-production agreement with Derrick de Marney, who put up £750, 25 per cent of the production’s £3,000 capital. The cost of staging the production itself accounted for £2,000, with the remainder held as a reserve against running costs.22

  Christie had written Appointment with Death immediately after the Dundee premiere of Hidden Horizon, and it similarly involves a group of English holidaymakers in a Middle Eastern setting that she had visited with Max. This was undoubtedly an attempt on Meyer’s part to repeat the success he had enjoyed with Ten Little Niggers, but unfortunately the script, although not without merit, would not have met the expectations of audiences who had been gripped by Christie’s first big West End hit. The Christie archive contains no drafts or scripts for this play.

  As a piece, Appointment with Death is a somewhat cumbersome, eighteen-hander, three-act drama, which sets the designer the challenge of moving the action from the King Solomon Hotel in Jerusalem to the Travellers’ Camp at the Petra archaeological site. Again, Poirot is removed from the story, and there is a significant change in the outcome of the plot which aficionados of the detective genre may justifiably find frustrating but which, once again, demonstrates Christie’s eagerness to experiment when adapting her work for the stage. The characterisation of the dramatis personae, and in particular of the Boynton family and its tyrannous matriarch, are of more interest to Christie the playwright than the trail of clues and, as so often in her stage work, ‘whydunit’ takes precedence over ‘whodunit’. Though no match for it in terms of dramatic structure, the dialogue, in many cases, is sharper than that of Ten Little Niggers; and some relatively light-hearted political debate is provided through the introduction of Alderman Higgs as a down-to-earth nemesis for Lady Westholme, characterised in the play as a former Conservative MP, who is described by one of the other characters as ‘a political big bug. In her own eyes at any rate. She’s always heckling the government about housing or equal pay for women. She was an under-secretary or something – but she lost her seat at the last election.’ Christie seems to have cast Lady Westholme in the same mould as Hidden Horizon’s Miss ffoliot-ffoulkes and, as in her previous play, the audience is invited to judge the character of the English abroad by the manner in which each of them addresses locals, particularly the staff who are looking after them. Here is Lady Westholme introducing the local guide to another member of the party:

  LADY WESTHOLME: This is our dragoman – Mohammed.

  DRAGOMAN: My name not Mohammed, lady. My name Aissa.

  LADY WESTHOLME: I always call dragomen Mohammed.

  DRAGOMAN: I Christian dragoman. Name Aissa, all same Jesus.

  LADY WESTHOLME: Most unsuitable. I shall call you Mohammed, so please don’t argue.23

  The character of Lady Westholme, intriguingly, gave rise to the first case of censorship of an Agatha Christie play. Two days after Christmas 1944, H.C. Game of the Lord Chamberlain’s office, in recommending the play for licence, suggested that ‘we might point out to the management that the line which I have marked on III,9, when read in conjunction with the speech on I,6, suggests that the character, a minor one, is based on Lady Astor. It would be just as well if an alteration were made.’24 The speech referred to was the one quoted above about Lady Westholme being a ‘political big bug’, and the line of hers in Act III which he had underlined read, ‘Alcoholic indulgence is the great evil of the present age, and I shall never rest until I have introduced prohibition into England.’ Lady Astor, wife of Observer proprietor Viscount Astor, had been the first woman to take a seat in Parliament in 1919 and at the time was still an MP. A notorious right-winger, she was a tireless anti-alcohol campaigner and in 1923 had introduced the Intoxicating Liquor bill, which raised the legal age for the consumption of alcohol in a public house from fourteen to eighteen. The line was duly cut, and it says a lot about the priorities of the Lord Chamberlain’s office that a statement about the evils of alcohol was sacrificed in order to avoid causing offence to Lady Astor by associating her with a comic character.

  Before Appointment with Death even reached the stage, Christie found herself working on her fourth full-length script in five years; again it was her own adaptation of one of her novels. Six weeks after the Broadway opening of Ten Little Indians – and, like Meyer, clearly hoping to repeat its success – the Shuberts commissioned Christie to write a stage version of her hugely popular new novel, Towards Zero. Christie duly delivered this script to the Shuberts in December the same year. Because Christie later lent her name to Gerald Verner’s 1956 adaptation of the same book, the occasional reference in 1940s correspondence to the title as a stage adaptation has always been assumed to be some sort of work in progress for that. Nothing could be further from the truth.

  On 1 August 1944, Lee Shubert and his legal eagle Adolph Kaufman met Ivan von Auw, a representative of Christie’s New York agent, Harold Ober, for lunch. A week later, and two months after the novel’s highly successful American launch, the Shuberts issued a commissioning agreement to Agatha Christie for a stage adaptation of Towards Zero; the document also refers to it by the title Come and Be Hanged!,25 under which it had originally been serialised. On paper, the latest play from the writer of Ten Little Indians, adapted from her latest book, was a hot property. This was reflected in the size of the fee: $5,000, half of which was payable on signature and half on delivery. The script was to be received by the Shuberts by 1 February and they then had six months in which to produce it. Provided it was presented on Broadway, the Shuberts would receive 40 per cent of any film sale of the title (the film rights to the book could thus not be sold separately, as they had been with Ten Little Niggers) and financial participation in all residual licensing, excluding production in the UK. An author’s royalty of between 5 and 10 per cent was payable on different bands of box office income. These arrangements are confirmed on an index cards in a forgotten corner of the Hughes Massie licensing records, which also seems to indicate their own 10 per cent commission as being split with Ober.26

  On 3 March 1945 the New York Times announced, ‘Agatha Christie has dramatised another of her mysteries, Towards Zero, and the completed script is expected in the Shubert offices momentarily.’ But in reality the script had already arrived, on 14 December, and the Shubert office was trying to work out what to do with it. It was clearly not what they had been expecting.

  In the meantime, Bertie Meyer’s production of Appointment with Death had opened. Unlike the Shuberts, he had had the opportunity to read the script before he bought it but, despite its obvious shortcomings, he appears to have engaged in none of the diligence that had resulted in lengthy rewrites and consequent delays in the production of Ten Little Niggers. The strategy in this case was simply to ensure that the production was staged as soon as possible in order to cash in on the popularity of Ten Little Niggers, opening its pre-West End tour shortly after the end of the latter’s post-West End tour. The production was directed by Derrick de Marney’s brother, Terence, who had played Lombard in Ten Little Niggers, and featured Joan Hickson (later to play Miss Marple on television with great success) in the role of Miss Pryce.

  The production process for Appointment with Death proved considerably less enjoyable for Agatha than that for Hidden Horizon, partly one suspects due to the absence of her friends, the Sullivans. She wrote to Edmund Cork complaining of frustrating cast absences from rehearsal and noting
that Sullivan meanwhile appeared to have booked a tour for Hidden Horizon without engaging a director or cast. Her reports of rehearsals to Max were not encouraging:

  Back in the hubbub of theatrical life . . . I’m rather glad all this is happening before you come back – would hate to miss any of your company because of having to attend rehearsals, and if one doesn’t go to them frightful things happen and actors write in lines for themselves which make complete nonsense of the play! This in case you are confused, is Appointment with Death, and it opens in Glasgow on the 29th (a long cold journey! Do you remember our trip to Scotland – wasn’t it fun!) we have been busy seeing people for parts. Bertie Meyer fell for a red head ‘Lots of sex appeal!’ . . . but once she had given a reading . . . his business instincts reassembled themselves.27

  The production ‘ought to be in London when you come home’, she concludes.

  The play opened at the King’s Theatre, Glasgow, on 29 January 1945. Two days later Agatha wrote to Max, ‘Here I am up to the head in the dramatic world. It has all been rather like a nightmare.’28 Terrible weather had caused transport delays and ‘Really it seemed impossible we could ever open on Monday night but we did – notices haven’t been very good – but so contradictory that it is difficult to get pointers from them. One says for two acts “nothing happens”; only in Act 3 does the play “come to life”. Other says interest drops after first two acts. I really think that the “whodunits” like [the] 3rd act and non-detective fans like first two. I also think it is unfortunate coming after Ten Little Niggers when there were 8 murders!!’ She is complimentary about the scenery, saying that it reminds her of her visit to Petra with Max, and gives a detailed analysis of the performances, criticising some over-acting before concluding, ‘Of course a lot of it is very funny. I do wish you were here to laugh about it with me . . . If it’s not a success I don’t care – Max is coming home – that’s the great thing and nothing else matters at all . . . But I think this will be all right. Now that awful snow and ice has gone the bookings are good and the audience appreciative. Well – I must go and do my stuff – Christian names and lots of “Darlings!” Your exhausted Mrs Puper.’

  Immediately after its Glasgow premiere, Appointment with Death embarked on a short national tour, evidently with a view to securing a West End theatre as soon as possible: ‘BA Meyer presents, First time on any stage prior to London Production, Full West End Company in Appointment with Death’ boasted the programme.29 Reviews were mixed, however, and on 17 February Edmund Cork decided to go and see for himself. Three days later he wrote to Agatha, ‘I hear such varied reports from people who went up to see Appointment with Death last week I thought I ought to see it myself. I went up on Saturday, and I was thrilled by the reception the play got. I have seldom seen a more enthusiastic audience.’30 He gave her some perceptive notes on the text, staging and performances before finishing, ‘Doubtless, however, these sort of points will be ironed out during its triumphant progress through the North, and we shall have a marvellous show before it comes to town.’

  Despite Cork’s optimism, however, Meyer was not finding it easy to secure a West End theatre, and on 22 February he wrote to Christie about the matter. During the production process for Ten Little Niggers, he had corresponded with Christie entirely via Edmund Cork and in this, one of the very few surviving letters from him to her, it is interesting to note the informal and affectionate tone of address that had grown up between them since then:

  My dear Agatha,

  On Saturday last, Associated London Theatres sent a representative to see our play at Northampton, and whilst he was quite pleased with some of it, he has requested me to make certain alterations before the Company is prepared to offer me one of their theatres for a London production. I am therefore passing on the gist of their report to you. He feels that the Curtains [i.e. ends of scenes] are not quite as good as they might be, and also that some of the dialogue in the Carbury cross-examination could be improved. They have asked for one or two changes in the cast, notably ‘Nadine’ with which I quite agree. They are [also] of the opinion that while Carla Lehmann is very charming and looks lovely, that she does not suggest the young woman doctor, and in view of the fact that she is under contract to play the part in London, I suggest that a few lines be added intimating that she has just completed her studies and is ‘blowing’ say a small inheritance before actively taking up her profession. I have ordered the new stage cloth for the last Act, and I propose to redress ‘Sarah’, ‘Nadine’, ‘Lady Westholme’ and ‘Ginerva’ for London. Would you kindly let me know whether it would be possible for you to meet me in Manchester for the first night on March 5th. The Northampton week was quite satisfactory. We had our worst opening, so far, in Hull (£90), but this does not worry me as Hull is quite one of the worst dates.

  Always yours sincerely,

  Bertie A. Meyer31

  In the end, all of the principal performers in the touring company stayed with the production for the West End, if only for no other reason than that, like Carla Lehmann, they were presumably under contract to do so. If Lehmann’s lines were indeed changed to take account of the fact that the Canadian actress had clearly been miscast in the role of Doctor Sarah King, then there is no evidence of this.

  Associated London Theatres (as Meyer refers to Associated Theatre Properties Ltd) was at the centre of the ever-growing theatre-owning cartel that became known in the industry as ‘the Group’, in which their investor Howard & Wyndham Ltd was a key player. In the end ATP didn’t offer one of their own theatres, but one of the Group’s associates, Tom Arnold, who had hosted the pre-West End opening of Ten Little Niggers at his Wimbledon Theatre, found room for the production at the Piccadilly Theatre. The Piccadilly had had mixed fortunes in recent years, partly as a vaudeville venue, and Appointment with Death was to reopen the theatre after a period of closure following bomb damage. One wonders whether Meyer’s contractual inability to recast certain players compromised the production’s ability to secure a more auspicious home.

  A month later, Cork was writing to Christie about arrangements for the West End opening night, scheduled for 31 March. He noted that Appointment with Death had done well at the box office in Manchester and that ‘it used to be said that what Manchester likes today, London likes tomorrow.’32 The buoyant box office on the tour and in the early weeks in the West End were, though, to a large extent based on audience expectation following Ten Little Niggers. The lukewarm critical response in the West End was soon to put paid to that, although popular character actress Mary Clare scored a hit as Mrs Boynton.

  It is also evident from the reviews that no expense had been spared by Meyer when it came to the two settings of the hotel and Petra. The scenery, including the extra cloth especially ordered for the final scene, was ‘designed and executed’ by leading scenic studio The Harkers, and the critics applauded their recreation of Petra. The Times, however, felt that

  It is not until the end of the second act that Mrs Boynton’s appointment, that has always seemed imminent, is actually kept, and so what began as though it would set off the old problem of who did it turns into a prolonged query about who is going to do it. There is ingenuity here, but all the polish of the acting and the production cannot disguise the artificiality of the characters and their behaviour; and what is acceptable as a kind of crossword in crime within the pages of a book becomes tedious on the stage . . . Mrs Boynton, gloating, as someone remarks, like some obscene idol over the sufferings of her hapless family, is a murderee if ever there was one. She is a monster, an artist in mental cruelty, and since she is also Miss Clare at the top of her form, it is a good thing for the audience that death delays so long in coming to her . . . Miss Joan Hickson makes the perfect spinster tourist.33

  The Observer critic, on this occasion not Ivor Brown, whilst noting that ‘Mrs Agatha Christie shuns library or lounge-hall’, remarked that ‘Unhappily her people, with one exception, are less surprising than their surroundings.’34 Instea
d, the revival of Eden and Adelaide Phillpotts’ Yellow Sands, presented by Robert Donat, Alec Rea and E.P. Clift at the Westminster Theatre, was their critic’s recommendation for the week. For The Stage’s critic, Appointment with Death was

  quite a good example of sophisticated melodrama, with an unusual setting and an unusual if insufficiently explained central theme . . . It was good to welcome back Mary Clare to the West End stage. All regular playgoers have vivid memories of her performances in earlier thrillers and here she dominates the play as effectively as Mrs Boynton dominates her step-children. The effectiveness of the performance . . . is the more remarkable because for long periods Miss Clare has only to sit silent and motionless while creating an impression of fear and terror. Terence De Marney has put plenty of vitality into his production and the Harkers’ scenery well meets the needs of the situation.35

  Thirty-four West End theatres were offering alternative attractions on the night Appointment with Death opened. Noël Coward was enjoying success with both a revival of Private Lives at the Apollo and the long-running Blithe Spirit at the Duchess; Terence Rattigan, similarly, had both While the Sun Shines at the Globe and Love in Idleness at the Lyric; the Old Vic Company, headed by Laurence Olivier, Ralph Richardson and Sybil Thorndike, were presenting Richard III at the New Theatre; and Lesley Storm and Esther McCracken were amongst the female playwrights whose work could be seen in the West End. At the Ambassadors the second instalment of the popular revue show Sweet and Low was in full swing.

  Christie’s first wartime offering in the West End had found favour with the contemporary zeitgeist, but her second seemed oddly out of kilter with it, and closed after forty-two performances on 5 May 1945, five days after Hitler’s suicide and three days before the end of the war in Europe. It is understandable that the public were glued to their radios during these momentous events, rather than enjoying a night at the theatre puzzling over whodunit with a group of eccentric Brits at Petra. The lack of involvement from the People’s Entertainment Society also meant that, unlike Ten Little Niggers, the production had not benefited from the co-operative movement’s considerable nationwide publicity machine. It seems unlikely that they turned the play down, after their previous success with a Christie title, and they were to work with Meyer on another Christie project in the future; it may simply have been that on this occasion Meyer did not wish to dilute the distribution of the anticipated profits beyond himself and de Marney. Although Samuel French entered into their usual deal for amateur and publication rights in 1947, they did not publish the play until 1956. With its extravagantly large dramatis personae, it has had no significant revival and is notable for its absence from Hughes Massie’s regular advertisements promoting Christie’s work to the repertory market throughout the late 1940s and 1950s.