As anyone who has seen the film, there is a mystery at the heart of The Third Man.
But on this occasion it is not the expected “Whatever happened to Harry Lime?” – the man of the title – but what possessed a creative team as distinguished as director Trevor Nunn and book-writer Christopher Hampton to imagine that what Carol Reed’s still-astonishing classic film noir needed was to be taken offscreen and planted onstage at the Menier Chocolate Factory in London’s glitzy London Bridge and saddled with such a selection of dreary songs.
This dismaying production provides no answer.
Poorly written. Badly sung. Lamely directed. Hammily acted. It was simply boring.
5 people were asleep by end of first half. I didn’t want to be number 6 so sneaked out at the intermission. Along with a handful of others.
Avoid.
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