Jordon Jones reviews Death at Murder Manor, directed by Brendon Bennetts, at the Court Theatre, presented as part of the NZ International Comedy Festival, Thursday 7 May 2026.
The audience falls into a hush as the lights dim. The entrance music—a series of songs one might find in Noël Coward’s personal record collection—fades out. There is a slight frisson through the crowd as someone enters centre-stage: the musician, Criss Grueber, who quietly takes his place beside the stage. A moment later, and the actors emerge to take their poses. Spotlights! We are ready… for murder.
But wait; we aren’t quite ready for murder yet, because this is an improvised show. The general shape of the evening is planned out, but the details of the characters and premise must be decided by audience participation before the plot can kick off. And this, dear reader, is how the opening night crowd came to be witnesses to an extremely fatal 80th first birthday for a cheetah (yes, you read that right). Other points of audience participation throughout the performance provide extra randomness, meaning that every show is going to be bonkers in a completely unique way.
What is certain is that the location of the melodrama is Murder Manor, home to the wealthy Murder family and a couple of guests. The setting is beautifully evoked by filling the walls and edges of the stage with exactly the sort of accoutrements you might expect to clutter the home of a family who have spent generations living in a medieval building: books, paintings, a grandfather clock, a stuffed grouse on the fireplace, a suit of armour, all the usual stuff. Although certain objects such as the chaise lounge and a small globe were key to the action, I got the impression that most of the surroundings were new to the performers. I hope that as they become more familiar with the other items they will engage with more of them, as I can see a lot of potential there.
The Murder family and their guests are played by an excellent collection of Court Jesters: Daniel Allan, Riley Harter, Trubie-Dylan Smith, Emma Newborn, and Millie Hanford. Skilled improvisers all, they took the audience suggestions and created wonders with them. They collaborated very well as a group, as we should expect, and they bounced off of each other very naturally. I was particularly impressed by the ease with which the Jesters threaded callbacks throughout their scenes, building a nice sense of consistency in the humour. Some of the funniest moments, however, were when the actors responded to something unexpected, like someone’s strange pronunciation or the discovery of mystery liquid in the prop decanter. I can’t count how many times we all fell into giggles together, audience and cast and musician together, at some brilliant, spontaneous acting choice. Somehow, though, Emma Newborn managed to keep in character even after her scene partners lost it (which is very fittingly called “corpsing” in showbiz), and that made the jokes even funnier. I love watching actors when they really, really enjoy what they’re doing, and this is certainly the case with Death at Murder Manor.
Of course, it’s not just the cast who are improvising their way through the show. Haydon Dickie must be ever vigilant masterminding the lighting and sound effects to match the unexpected happenings on the stage; his work flowed seamlessly into the performance, adding delicious drama to the death scenes and ominous underlying storms to the rest. I also want to give a huge shout-out to Criss Grueber, who improvised a score for the show on both a keyboard and cello, while also interacting occasionally with the actors. Improvising that well on one instrument is already an impressive skill, but switching between two instruments, one of which he has to reach around to play the other, is ridiculous and I strongly commend him for it—Grueber is definitely my MVP pick for this one.
If I were to give one warning to audience members, it would to be wary of the seating on the ground floor of the Wakefield Family Front Room, particularly if you like to be up close to the action. The benches differ in height, with tall ones at the back and short ones at the front. Good for visibility, but potentially dangerous to full glasses of wine if the seat is further down than you expect. Also could be dangerous to dodgy knees. A surprise benefit of being so close to the floor, though, is that I got to have a great view of Millie Hanford’s gorgeous shoes. In any case, you may want to try to get in quickly to ensure your ideal seat height.
Murder Manor is a silly place, and you shouldn’t come expecting pathos and grand speeches (though you could get those anyway; who knows?). What you should absolutely expect is to laugh heartily, and frequently, as the chaos unfolds and twists pile upon twists. Death at Murder Manor is a love letter to the golden age of detective fiction, and especially to the Queen of Crime herself. I encourage you to take note of all the little references sprinkled throughout the show in between the many, many laughs. And then, perhaps, book tickets for another night (if there are any left) so that you can see a totally different murder at Murder Manor.
Death at Murder Manor has had its season extended and now runs until Saturday 23 May at the Court Theatre.
Flat City Field Notes 