Switzerland

In her advancing years, author Patricia Highsmith has retreated to her hideaway in the Swiss Alps. A notoriously difficult woman who rails at the New York literary establishment and most racist groups and religions, she’s an alcoholic, lesbian, and prone to withering put-downs.

In this play Edward Ridgeway bears the brunt of them. A seemingly callow and gauche youth, Ridgeway has been sent by Highsmith’s publishers to persuade her to write one more Ripley novel in her series known as The Ripliad. In a cat-and-mouse game that involves the co-creation of a ‘possible’ new novel, Highsmith eventually agrees to sign a contract but not before Murray-Smith has done a neat twist with the scenario worthy of Highsmith’s own writing.

Played without an interval, but with three clear breaks, Murray-Smith has a grand old time skewering the male New York literary clique: ‘All white male writers and all white male critics indulging in mutual masturbation,’ and Highsmith’s gall at Norman Mailer’s dismissal of her work as ‘high-class pulp’.

The conceit of a writer haunted and possessed by her most famous creation is not new, but Murray-Smith engagingly brings freshness to it.

Director Bruce Parr has cast two actors as Highsmith, Maria Plumb and Lucy Moxon. To my knowledge it’s the first time that this has happened. Both were convincing as the cynical wordsmith, with Nicholas Sayers as the meek, but gradually emerging self–assured, Ridgeway, handling his part well.

Highsmith was a chain-smoker but there’s no hint of that trait here.

It was a performance where all actors carried scripts like a reading. The set was minimal, a lounge and chair, a table and two chairs, and a soundscape that permeated the script when necessary.

At two-hours without a break it was long, but Parr juggled the pieces astutely and it didn’t bog down in existential verbiage. The performance made me want to revisit the books and that’s an admirable reaction.

Peter Pinne

PREVIEW AND BUY SCRIPT HERE.