THE LAST CONFESSION
THE LAST CONFESSION, Paul Elliott and Duncan C. Weldon, Liza McLean, TRH Productions and Karl Sydow at the Theatre Royal, September 24 – October 12, 2014. Photography by Cylla von Tiedemann: above – the cast; right – David Suchet
The Last Confession was already an accomplished frequent flier by the time it landed on our shores. Written by New York local and first time playwright Roger Crane, it debuted at Chichester Festival Theatre seven years ago, played the West End, then hit the high seas, taking in Toronto and Los Angeles before washing up in Perth last month.
Accompanying it everywhere have been rave reviews, mainly stemming from the casting of David Suchet in the lead - he of the impeccable moustache and equally meticulous detecting methods in television series Agatha Christie’s Poirot. Judging by the rapturous applause that accompanies his entrance on the opening night of the show’s Sydney leg, he’s still very much the drawcard for audiences.
But while Suchet’s performance is superb, the play leaves a fair bit to be desired. While parts of it - not coincidentally, those when Suchet is playing detective – are compelling, there’s no escaping the fact the rest of it can be exasperatingly dull.
Suchet plays Cardinal Giovanni Benelli, an influential powerbroker in the Vatican bureaucracy, whose wheeling and dealing brought about the 1978 election of liberal Venetian cardinal Albino Luciani (Richard O’Callaghan) as Pope John Paul I. When the Pope is found dead in his bed 33 days later, just as his first radical reforms of the Catholic Church are about to be implemented, Benelli suspects foul play.
It’s classic murder mystery stuff, and when Benelli is cross-examining witnesses and pacing the makeshift courtroom, it’s as accomplished as any Agatha Christie novel. But preceding it is an overly long first half, which feels like an extended prologue and slows the play almost to a standstill. Even the outstanding cast, most of whom hail from the UK and Canada, can’t do much at this point to lift the pace beyond glacial.
As Benelli, Suchet is a commanding presence: arrogant, ruthless and shrewd, yet touchingly vulnerable as his religious doubts begin to grow. O’Callaghan is the perfect foil, bringing gentle dignity and a certain childlike innocence to his portrayal of John Paul I, a man much happier walking among the devoted flock of his diocese than navigating the politics and power struggles of the Vatican.
William’s Dudley’s set, of towering cast iron gates, captures beautifully the cloistered nature of the Vatican and is surprisingly mobile, conjuring up the ornate meeting hall of the College of Cardinals one minute and of the intimacy of the papal offices the next.
With such a cast and creative team, The Last Confession has all the ingredients of a terrific night out. A little clever editing would take it closer to the heights it deserves.
