Another day, another insurance check has arrived. That makes three now. This is embarrassing. It is also getting difficult to keep straight which is the good check and which ones are already voided. It is like a game of three check Monty.

Anne and I went out last night, for dinner and a show. This play was a recent version of Agatha Christie’s classic story, Murder on the Orient Express. This is the final show of the regular season and the Rep pulled out all of the stocks for it. The production values were sky high. For example, the cast comprised fifteen actors, an unheard-of number for this stage. I’ve seen various movies and plays performed of this show before. So, there were no plot twists in it for me. Still, it is an enjoyable tale. It starts in Istanbul during the interwar years. A group of strangers board the fabled Orient Express, bound for Paris. A last-minute addition to the train’s manifest is the famous detective Hercule Poirot. On the first night out, things begin to go off the rails. The train gets stuck in the mountains of the Balkans, when a snowstorm halts any further progress. Don’t worry though, a body is soon discovered, a body with eight stab wounds in it. Like I said, don’t worry, because now we have a murder mystery to contend with and help all aboard to pass the time, while they await their rescue, with Monsieur Poirot there to keep everyone aboard on track.

The mainstage at the Lorretta-Hilton sports a turntable, which was put to deft use for this production. On it were place two halves of a railcar, first class naturally. Each half had its interior opened outwards, one half being sleeping berths and the other half being the dining car. Sometimes one of these halves were removed for exterior views and sometimes with the two outsides facing inward, they served as companionways. Scenes were changed simply by spinning the stage. It was really quite something to behold.