Dial M for Murder review | Theatre Works

Brought to stage in 1952 and immortalised two years later in Alfred Hitchcock’s classic film, Dial M for Murder has long been a favourite for lovers of tightly wound thrillers. This latest production by Smoke and Mirrors Productions keeps the bones of the original intact while slipping in a few contemporary surprises to give the story a new edge. The result is a sharp, stylish take on a familiar tale that knows how to keep an audience intrigued.

The first act plays out in a fairly straightforward fashion, leading to the inevitable attack and its immediate aftermath. Then the show changes lanes entirely. The second act throws us into the 1980s, with the set and props transformed: rotary dial phones become corded, a red gown gives way to shoulder pads, and additional small touches signal a leap forward in time. The third act brings us to 2025, including sneakers being worn, iPhones being used, and other modern details that pull the narrative firmly into the present.

Prior to each act, Margot appears, dressed in a full slip and surrounded by the three male characters who dress her, pose her, and force a smile onto her face. She stands motionless, a mannequin in their control. In the second act, she shows a flicker of resistance, and by the last, she pushes back more forcefully, attempting to reclaim her stance and refusing to smile.

It’s a clever way of showing how these situations persist, where women are still being controlled, manipulated, and murdered by men. In this story, Margot is a reactor, with her fate dictated by the men around her as she repeatedly falls into victimhood. If these interludes are meant to suggest a woman fighting back, they land as a pointed, feminist counterpoint, a defiance that refuses to be tidied away, even when the script demands her submission. By forcing her smiles and frozen poses, the production also implicates the audience, as we become silent witnesses to her objectification and control. It’s an uncomfortable, but necessary, reminder that the patterns of power and violence we are being entertained by, are playing out today.

The only awkward note in this inventive approach is that the language and accents feel rooted in the 1950s. Even the actors’ movements and posture don’t really shift with the progressing eras, which makes the transitions disjointed. It's a misstep by Director Dean Drieberg, as the performances seem locked in one era, out of sync with the changing visuals on stage.

Drieberg does an exceptional job however, in setting the aesthetic and mood. His vision is clear, and he’s worked well with the design team to bring it to life. Tom Vulcan’s lighting is thoughtfully crafted, effectively heightening the tension as the play unfolds, especially during the anticipated phone call, and Katie Harrigan’s thumping, rhythmic sound design pulses through moments like Margot’s dressing, serving as a prompt that this story, though set across various decades, is very much happening in the now.

But I wish more time had been spent working with the actors to help them feel comfortable and aware enough to fully inhabit their characters. Tyrie Aspinall is the strongest as Tony Wendice, delivering a cold, calculating, and smug portrayal that fits the role’s manipulative intensity well. His scenes with Captain Lesgate (Joshua Bruce) and Max Halliday (Leon Walshe) carry a quiet homoerotic charge, expressed through lingering glances, subtle touches, and restrained physicality. This adds an intriguing ambiguity to their interactions, while underscoring the play’s central themes of control and manipulation.

Walshe delivers a committed response as Max, but he is too animated and missing the understated confidence or gravitas that would suit the crime writer. His performance feels somewhat overplayed, which undercuts Max’s credibility and makes it hard to see him as heroic or assertive. Bruce is solid as Captain Lesgate, but his return in the second half as Inspector Hubbard is monotonous and stiff. The character seems to be reciting lines rather than inhabiting the role, and the depiction falls flat compared to the other dynamic performances.

Bridget Bourke commands attention early on with a layered vulnerability as Margot Wendice, but as the plot advances, she gradually fades from the spotlight, becoming more peripheral than pivotal. This might be intentional for Margot, but even when she is on stage, the performance tends to diminish and lose momentum instead of holding the audience’s focus.

Overall, Smoke and Mirrors Productions’ Dial M for Murder offers a visually striking and conceptually ambitious treatment on a classic thriller. The time shifts and thematic interludes add fresh perspectives, inviting audiences to reconsider familiar characters and power dynamics through a contemporary lens. The production shines in its design and directorial concept, but falters in unevenness in performances and period authenticity prevent it from fully reaching its potential.

Fans of the original will appreciate the careful preservation of the core narrative, while those open to an experimental approach will find thought-provoking layers woven throughout. This Dial M for Murder serves as both an homage and a conversation starter about control, identity, and agency that resonates today.

Show Details

Venue: Theatre Works, 14 Acland St, St. Kilda
Season: until 16 August | Tues - Sat 7:30pm
Duration: 120 minutes including interval
Tickets: $49 Full | $38 Concession
Bookings: Theatre Works

Image credit: Dave McCarthy