A comfortingly old-school British detective story, with a historical twist
Upon entering the Charing Cross Theatre, the audience are presented with a printout of Richard III’s family tree. This threatens a finicky plotline, and it is true that M. Kilburg Ready’s adaptation of Josephine Tey’s 1951 novel involves the detailed dissection of historical documents surrounding Richard III’s ascent to the throne. But, thanks to skilful writing and strong performances, the audience never needs to refer to this document, whether through confusion or boredom. Instead, engaging debates about the nature of historical fact, a healthy peppering of jokes, and a romantic subplot ripped straight from the pages of Much Ado About Nothing, serve to preserve the charm of old-fashioned British storytelling, and the audience’s attention.
The Daughter of Time opens with Inspector Grant (Rob Pomfret), crotchety and bored as he is bedbound in hospital after breaking his leg in pursuit of a criminal. Grant believes he can discern a person’s character from their face, and when actress friend Marta (Rachel Pickup) brings him a series of historical portraits, Grant is struck by Richard III’s respectable demeanour. What began as an attempt at distraction quickly morphs into an obsessive cold-case investigation, replete with a picture-covered cork board, its pictures pinned up with a few syringes borrowed from the nurses.
Tey’s novel – the fifth in a series of books starring Grant – was named Best Crime Novel of all time by the British Crime Writers’ Association, recognising the novelty of its premise, and the unexpectedly twisty nature of its revelations. It’s a difficult story to adapt to the stage, with much of the action taking place inside Grant’s head; the historical context necessitating a number of long, wordy expositions; and a setting confined to a single hospital room. The Daughter of Time’s stage adaptation shifts towards more visual storytelling, making authentic-feeling changes – including the addition of a new character and several plot threads – that cannot be distinguished from the original novel. Nevertheless, this remains a story taking place largely within Grant’s head, and there are no real stakes to its historical mystery. The Daughter of Time is certainly not a crime thriller, whatever its posters may suggest, but those looking for a slow-burn throwback to a bygone era of crime writing will find plenty to enjoy.
An American researcher (Harrison Sharpe) is soon added to the mix of people visiting Grant’s hospital bed/investigation room, with his youthful naivety adding sillier humour to scenes. Meanwhile, Grant’s actor friends hatch a scheme to get him to confess his feelings for actress friend Marta, and accept that there’s more to life than ‘the job’. Alongside the team of nurses gently quipping Grant into action, these scenes add much-needed colour to an otherwise dry investigation. Punctuated with physiotherapy sessions, a nurse obsessed with Richard the Lionheart, and the need to bribe a member of the British Museum with a wheel of French cheese, Grant attempts to reconcile the incongruence between what he is discovering about Richard III and Shakespeare’s portrayal of him as grasping and manipulative (not to mention hunchbacked).
Much like its narrative, The Daughter of Time’s acting and set design are well-executed and comfortable in their understatement. The whole cast pull off their roles believably, and there are some impactful transitions to move beyond the hospital room: a private members club where Grant’s actor friends hatch their love-revealing scheme, and onstage at a theatre where one of them is performing Shakespeare’s Richard III.
The play’s historical discussions also echo into the present. Grant’s findings contradict both Shakespeare’s historical portrayal and the (semi-)contemporary accounts of Thomas More, prompting philosophical questions about the nature of historical knowledge, and who determines ‘the truth’. Playwright M. Kilburg Ready says she was inspired to adapt the novel following contradictory accounts of the Iraq war emerging in autobiographies in the early 2010s; in an age of fake news and alternative facts, this discussion feels more relevant than ever.
Inevitable comparisons will be drawn with Agatha Christie’s evergreen period mysteries, and The Daughter of Time lacks the punch of her whodunnit narratives. But it does evoke much of the same old-English charm, and remains (very) quietly compelling in its tale of political intrigue and historical propaganda. For fans of the Golden Age of detective stories looking for something a bit different, there is joy to be had in Inspector Grant’s historical cold-case.
The Daughter of Time plays at the Charing Cross Theatre until 13th September, with Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday matinees. Tickets can be purchased here.