Tom Gough, Mary Melnick, Myles Kenyon Rowland, Alycia Adame, Drew Benjamin Jones, Patricia Tyler, Kyle Smith, and Christian Pizzirani Photo by Evelyn Huynh

Walking into City Lights' intimate arena, we are only steps away from the cozy main room of an English countryside inn, Monkswell Manor, with its flocked wallpaper, large, multi-paned window looking out into a wintery scene, comfy furniture, walls full of plates and portraits, and shelves and fireplace mantle loaded with collected memories. With a lone tennis racket leaning against the hallway wall, a randomly placed golf bag, and figurines of assorted exotic animals, Ron Gasparinetti has created in this scenic wonderland a host of clues of a number of other Christie mystery novels, just waiting for her real fans to have a heyday discovering them.

Carsten Koester's lighting design emphasizes the inn's inviting nature and introduces the increasing mysteries in darkened shadows. Sounds of winter as well as music and news of 1952 fill the air as part of George Psarras' sound design, while Kristin Lundin ensures the arriving, shivering guests are bundled in assorted coats and scarves before revealing their 1950s outfits, all perfect for the cover of The Saturday Evening Post. Speaking in various English and European dialects–some quite realistic and others definitely exaggerated–as ably coached by Richard Newton, the fine cast is directed by Doll Piccotto with split-second timing and often with tongue in cheek.

Mollie and Giles, newlyweds of one year, are the novice owners of this antique inn (recently inherited from her aunt) with its cold drafts, pipes inclined to freeze, and multi-storied nooks and crannies. With a myriad of expressive mannerisms, Alycia Adame is the smartly attired (in heels, of course), always smiling hostess who nervously and excitedly scurries with duster in hand on this, their opening day in the middle of a huge blizzard. Her sometimes scowling but equally busy husband of just one year–who dutifully shovels snow and chops kindling while still in his smart-looking sweater and dress slacks–is played by Myles Kenyon Rowland. Both are convincing and sometimes comical in their efforts striving for perfection as new innkeepers and in their naiveté of what they have gotten themselves into, with Giles noting just before the first guest arrives, "We ought have taken the correspondence course in hotel keeping."

And who could ever be quite prepared for the array of snow-dusted, shivering guests about to plop through their doorway, all idiosyncratically peculiar in just the way Agatha Christie can create such characters? Bursting in with a host of both questions and opinions and with a voice swinging up and down through several octaves in one sentence is Christopher Wren. As his hilarious English accent shifts in tone almost each time we see him, Wren is portrayed with a devilish penchant for dramatics by Christian Pizzirani. Wren immediately chums up with Mollie, dashing to the kitchen to help her with dinner, raises the suspicions of jealous husband Giles, and compares the terrible weather to "Dickens, Scrooge, and that irritating Tiny Tim."

Following Wren is the graying, matronly Mrs. Boyles, crankily, complainingly, callously–and thus delightfully–portrayed by Patricia Tyler. Soon to come is the gravely voiced, gruff but also gracious Major Metcalf, played smartly by Kyle Smith, quick to stand at military attention at a moment's notice. The clearly nonbinary, reserved, and prone-to-smirk Casewell (Mary Melnick) arrives with a curiously small suitcase and no desire to answer any questions about their background or hometown.

Right on time in a Christie story, an unexpected guest tumbles in with no luggage save a red bag with rattling contents ("My Rolls Royce is stuck in a snow field"). Tom Gough is Mr. Paravicini, a highly excitable, talkative Italian with an overly affected, lilting voice, an annoying and loud laugh, and just enough make-up to help him evidently pass for years older than he is.

But before the Christie-required murder of one of these seven occupants can occur, one more character on the evening's playbill literally pops in. Appearing suddenly through the front window in skis is a young, handsome Detective Sergeant Trotter (Drew Benjamin Jones) of much serious and intense intent. He has come to warn the occupants that the afternoon's earlier murdered soul in a London street that we heard about from the radio announcer may be the first of a trio of demise and that the next victim (or victims) might well be at this fated inn. The connection has something to do with a nearby farm where three foster children were abused some twenty years prior and with this inn's address being on the murdered victim in London. Though the youthful-faced detective assures everyone he has arrived to protect them from any mishap, in fact not long after his arrival and some initial questioning, the lights go out and what we in the audience have all been waiting for, occurs.

Down goes a victim, and the Sergeant's investigation gains new priorities as it soon becomes clear to all that somewhere in the house is the murderer and that someone else may yet be a third victim. We will soon learn from him that "You all had opportunity ... The vital fact is that everyone of you was alone at the time the murder was committed." As his interrogations intensify (with Jones' Trotter often leaning in full-body, face-to-face while boring in with his questions), suspicions and accusations fly among the guests themselves of who among them is the killer.

All this builds to a surprise conclusion that has for seventy-plus years of The Mousetrap history been kept quite secret. The script has never been published in a book, and a film has never been nor can ever be made as long as the play continues its record-breaking run in London. Tens of thousands of audience members everywhere have been dutifully sworn to secrecy.

Like the many thousands before them, City Lights audience members exit with big smiles, having been fully entertained by a rippingly good page-turner that they got to watch rather than read.

The Mousetrap runs through April 6, 2025, at City Lights Theater Company, 529 S. 2 nd Street, San Jose CA. For tickets and information, please visit www.cltc.org.