ACT II Community Theater

Because the television version had been so successful, Knott was advised that there would be little chance of any film adaptation. Therefore, he jumped at the chance to sell the film rights to Alexander Korda for a mere 1000 pounds. He also agreed to a provision in Korda's contract that any stage production had to be withdrawn if a film was ever released. This restriction naturally deterred most producers who might be interested, but a North Country businessman who had the lease on London's Westminster Theater had a gap in his schedule, and agreed to a brief, low-cost engagement, which opened in 1952 after only three weeks of rehearsal. Fortunately, the actor Maurice Evans met the producer at a house party during that time, read the play, and saw it as a vehicle for himself on the New York stage. And since Evans at the time was filming the story of Gilbert and Sullivan (he played Sullivan to Robert Morley's Gilbert) for Alexander Korda, he was able to persuade Korda to waive the proviso about a film release and to obtain the American production rights.

The London production was an instant hit, and The Schubert Oganization and the Theater Guild were frustrated to find that the American rights had already been spirited away by Evans, who wasted no time mounting his Broadway version, which was as successful as it London counterpart. The New York Times stated that it "tingles with excitement" and the Daily Mirror noted that "it holds your attention like a vice." During the next five years the play was seen in thirty countries, and it has been a staple of repertory and amateur companies ever since. And, yes, there was a movie in 1954. Korda sold the film rights to Warner Brothers as a project for Alfred Hitchcock, who was nearing the end of his contract with the studio (of course, Korda sold the rights for considerably more than he had paid Knott), but the playwright was hired to write the screenplay.

Hitchcock aficionados don't consider Dial "M" for Murder one of the master's greater achievements; the story is rather uncinematic, taking place entirely in one room. And Hitchcock was hardly getting his own way with the film. He was forced to shoot in 3-D, in spite of the fact that there is little opportunity to take advantage of that medium's dubious merits (only Grace Kelly's arm reaching for the scissors offered a real possibility). He also wanted Cary Grant for the role of the charming cad who plans the murder of his wife. Grant wanted the role, but his management didn't want him playing a villain, and Warner Brothers didn't want to pay Grant his usual fee at the time (10% of the gross). It is also hard to believe that the director was pleased with the often intrusive musical score provided by Dimitri Tiompin.

Although the theatrical version has continued to be a standard item in the stage repertoire for over fifty years, and there have been remakes for film and television, there are those who continue to think of it as an "old-fashioned play." That is a phrase the frequently pops up in reviews. Seemingly, the fact that the title derives from, and much of the plot depends on a communication technology that is out of date renders the play, according to these critics, as passé as the rotary dial phone. Such criticisms are rather naive; we should hardly dismiss theatrical works because the technology depicted in them is no longer au courant--like the musical The Bells Are Ringing (still charming as a period piece), Menotti's opera The Telephone, or the wonderfully terrifying audio play Sorry Wrong Number. Furthermore, as one perceptive critic has explained: "The play is not stilted, nor is it in any way mired in the theatrical conventions of its period. Mr. Knott wrote about people, not about time and place, and since people's motivations have not substantively changed since the Greeks began writing plays, Dial "M" for Murder has a contemporary air."

Even some theater folk seem to feel that it is necessary to "doctor" the script to adapt to changing times and tastes. Maurice Evans himself wanted to change the coercion of the would-be killer by the avaricious husband to a revelation of drug dealing rather than theft. One production tried to introduce a subtext of homosexuality into the relationship between the husband and the hired killer. And several attempts have been made to alter the character of the police inspector, including casting a woman in the role (it's hardly likely there were women police inspectors in the time of the rotary phone), or making him into sort of a west-country rube.

Dial "M" for Murder may be nearing the age of 60, but it is a drama that is still capable of succeeding on its own terms. It is not a traditional whodunit--we know from the beginning who is doing what to whom. The play is more of a psychological thriller, a cat and mouse game wherein the rules of the game constantly change as well-laid plans go awry and wherein our sympathies and moral judgments are toyed with as we simultaneously admire the villain's clever inventiveness and despise his cold blooded evil. Perhaps Maurice Evans described it best: "Knott is a particularly meticulous writer. The fascinating web of clues, counter-clues and red herrings that so intrigued theater audiences is typical of the way his mind works. Like the form of his tennis-playing villain, every detail of his plot is placed with the deadly accuracy of a stroke in a championship tournament."