And Then, the Lights Went Out shines light on pulp fiction

Since Humphrey Bogart put on a trench coat to play Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon, audiences have enjoyed a love affair with the hard-boiled detective.

The gritty private eye who treads the high moral ground resurfaces once more in Walterdale Theatre’s season opener and Edmonton premiere of And Then, the Lights Went Out.

Written by Andrew Garland and directed by St. Albert Children’s Theatre alumnus David Johnston, it is a knee-dipping homage to film noir and pulp fiction.

The action takes place during an Edmonton heat wave. The central figure is pulp fiction writer Thomas Levine, who unfortunately has developed a serious case of writer’s block.

Not surprisingly, Thomas’ personal life is at a dead end. Holed up in his ratty, air-conditioned-free apartment, the pressure is on as the 30-degree heat rises, a snarky landlady pounds at his door and an editor phones demanding a finished script.

In stream of consciousness moments, his characters rush to the rescue offering advice on character and plot development.

Garland structures the script with a mandatory mystery. But part of the fun is trying to figure out the unexpected twists Thomas creates as his mental state shifts.

In some ways, the show is less about plot than character. As the play opens, Thomas has buried himself under a blanket trying to keep the world at bay. His characters, aware they have no future without the book’s continuation, yank him out of bed.

The nasal sounding gumshoe Jim O’Reilly is right up there with Sam Spade, a knife-edged hero who strolls through the mean streets and dark shadows meeting tough dames and tommy-gun toting hoods.

He’s on a mission after the sexy, but inscrutable Claire hires him to find a man. O’Reilly’s sidekick is Lucy, a hot-headed, stubborn and remarkably perceptive policewoman.

As O’Reilly and Lucy investigate the city’s underbelly, they encounter a series of archetypal characters – Bruno, the stupid, muscle-bound bruiser and Duke, the villainous personification of evil.

Sporting a grizzled look and rumpled trench coat, Kyle Lahti as the tough-talking, wise-cracking O’Reilly turns the rough stuff on and off at the peck of the writer’s keys.

Erika Conway’s Claire is the quintessential elegant, enigmatic dame that wears figure-hugging clothes and hides some obvious secrets. St. Albert’s Hayley Moorhouse’s Lucy girl-next-door looks hide a powerhouse cop with sharp instincts that bring a few surprises to the show.

Erin Forwick-Whalley is delightful as Adelle, the landlady from hell and Chance Heck as Bruno delivers smart performances from his split personalities.

This is the kind of show that could get bogged down with ham-handed exaggeration, yet Johnston and the cast tread that delicate balance between caricature and reality. Even the slow motion fight scenes present a cartoonish violence that is fun to watch.

On opening night last Thursday, the production’s film noir panache generated a steady stream of laughs and that’s a pretty good reason to buy a ticket.