Coleson Eldredge and Jeremy Bode Photo by Alyssa Kristine Photography

Rope's playwright, Patrick Hamilton may be better known for his play Gaslight (sometimes produced as Angel Street), a thriller that was made into a classic film starring Charles Boyer, Ingrid Bergman (winning her first Academy Award), Joseph Cotton and, in her film debut, Angela Lansbury. Rope is also a thriller better known for its screen adaptation, directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

Rope's plot is extracted from the infamous crime committed by Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb in 1924. Leopold and Loeb were intellectually precocious young men from wealthy families in Chicago's affluent Kenwood neighborhood. To prove their superiority over others (they were in thrall of Friedrich Nietzsche's theory of the "uber mensch," or "superman") and for the sheer thrill of creating and carrying out the most extreme of perfect crimes, they abducted and murdered a fourteen-year-old neighborhood boy. Leopold was just 19, and Loeb only 18. Needless to say, their crime was not "perfect," or we would never have heard of them. Only five years later, in 1929, Hamilton's Rope opened, first in London and then in New York.

Hamilton moves the scene of the crime to London's posh Mayfair district and has the two young men become students at Oxford winding up their summer break before returning to school, renaming them Brandon and Granillo. Rather than a younger boy, they choose a schoolmate, Ronald, lauded for his athletic skills which, it seems, is cause enough for Brandon and Granillo to dislike him. Rope begins with the murder already accomplished. Granillo is riddled with nerves, fearful that they overlooked something that will give them away. Brandon–the more dominant of the pair–is confident that everything went according to plan. He implores Granillo to steady himself.

Not content with committing the perfect crime, Brandon insists on mocking those who would be shocked by such things. He devises a social gathering, ostensibly to dispense a set of books that fell into his hands, and as a farewell to a few select friends before returning to Oxford. All the while, the deceased's body will be locked in a trunk upon which refreshments will be served, defying any of his guests to suspect what lies beneath their punch glasses and cucumber sandwiches.

We know all this, and even more, within the first ten minutes of the play, lest you think that I have spoiled the play. Once the stage is set, Hamilton teases us with tantalizing conversations that, in quite plausible manner, veer to the topic of murder and murderers, among other things. The dialogue keenly captures the way such young men of that era would speak, aping the upper crust sophistication in which they were reared. The suspense hinges on whether or not Brandon and Granillo will be found out or will pull off their outrageous and barbaric stunt. The question teeters back and forth through both acts of the play, drawing us ever closer to the edge of our seats. As the play nears its end we realize there are actually two questions: first, will they be found out; and, if they are, will they be held accountable?

The invited guests include a friend, Kenneth, who is the essence of naïve innocence and bears a resemblance to Ronald; a fun-loving young woman, Leila, dressed as a bona fide flapper; Sir Johnstone Kentley, a book collector, who has been invited to choose among the books Brandon has acquired; Sir Johnstone's dour sister, who attends in place of Lady Kentley, who is ill; and Rupert, a writer steeped in cynicism, who in the past has engaged Brandon and Granillo in discussions of such things as Nietzsche, the death of God, and the absence of a moral universe. The butler, Sabot, completes the company.

The play begins in total darkness as the murderers conceal the body from which they have just extinguished life. Only gradually is light brought into the room, and by then the audience is immersed in the sense of darkness, so that even when the lamps are lit, the depravity of what transpires in this sitting room has been established. In fact, Carl Schoenborn's set is a very pleasant, somewhat clubby sitting room with fireplace, a velour settee and comfortable chairs, reflecting the affluence of the two young men residing there. Schoenborn also designed the lighting, which pivots between shades of darkness and the lightness of the gathering quite effectively. A. Emily Heaney's costumes have a fine grip on this smart set from the 1920s, and Aaron Newman offers excellent sound design, including an alarmingly stormy night.

Hansen maintains the narrative's momentum–it takes place in real time–with changing weather and shifting prospects of the crime being found out dovetailing in a spiral of growing suspense, all the more impressive considering we know from the start what the crime was, who did it, and why. Hansen has drawn together a cast heavy with young actors who are the ages of the characters they play and who give outstanding performances. Coleson Eldredge as Brandon splendidly conveys the arrogance of a young man who believes he stands above the mere mortals who surround him, yet injects a spirit of the fun he is having committing this monstrous charade. We also get a clear sense of his dominance over Granillo, played wonderfully by Jeremy Bode, desperately fighting the terror of being caught, and clearly not so certain as Brandon that they stand above the world's moral code.

Jeffrey Nolan is impressive as Rupert, delivering the sense of a man still young, though older than his hosts, who has been deeply scarred by life–largely due to his experience on the front in World War I–and works mightily to maintain a veneer of sophistication and abject cynicism to shield him from further pain. Mira Davis is a joy as Leila, wide-eyed in her eagerness to enjoy life and make sport of the absurd possibility of there being a dark side to it all. As Kenneth, George Kleven is a charming male ingenue, eager to please his hosts–they have a history of having bullied him in their younger days–and basking in the attention given him by the alluring Leila.

Veteran actor and director Craig Johnson plays Sir Johnstone, a smaller role but one with a critical function, and when the time arises, Johnson comes through with a bracing delivery that is the only moment of genuine heart in the play. The part of Johnstone's sister, played gamely by Katherine Kupiecki, has so little to do that one wonders why Hamilton bothered including her at all, though her presence does offer grist for one mildly amusing point to be made. With not much to do beyond playing a stock butler, efficient and smarter than given credit for, Matthew Saxe does sterling work.

If you have seen the 1948 Hitchcock film version of Rope you will know that the setting was moved again, this time to New York City, and a few changes made to the line up of characters. The screenplay was an early effort by stage and film luminary Arthur Laurents. Laurents, who was gay, knew that Leopold and Loeb had a sexual relationship and has written that he felt there was a homosexual subtext in Rope which he tried to infuse into the film. Though I did not detect a sexual spark in Brandon and Granillo's friendship, it is true that they function as a pair–living together, travelling to school together, committing murder together–with indications that Brandon holds the upper hand in their relationship. Then too, Leila directs her coquettish wiles toward the innocent Kenneth rather than the far more worldly Brandon or Granillo, so perhaps she is in on her hosts' secret.

Whether or not there was a subtext that I missed, the play works beautifully. Are murders still committed simply for the thrill of taking another life, or to prove oneself a superior breed of human? Perhaps. Though it is a grim thought, it would be hard to believe that this century-old play no longer speaks to our time. The newspapers tell us otherwise.

But don't go to Rope in search of relevance,. A good thriller can transcend the boundaries of its time, striking a cord of fear that dwells somewhere within all of us, while delighting us at the same time. I do not condone murder for the sheer thrill of it (or really, for any reason at all,) but whole-heartedly recommend Gremlin's production of Rope, which delivers wonderful performances and superb staging, along with spine-chilling thrills.

Rope runs through August 4, 2024, at Gremlin Theatre, 550 Vandalia Street, Saint Paul MN. For tickets and information, please visit gremlintheatre.org or call 1-888-71-TICKETS.

Playwright: Patrick Hamilton; Director: Peter Christian Hansen; Technical Director, Scenic and Light Designer: Carl Schoenborn; Costume Design: A. Emily Heaney; Sound Design: Aaron Newman; Prop Designer: Sarah Bauer; Fight Director: Annie Enneking; Dialect Coach: Keely Wolter; Stage Manager: Janae Lorick; Producer: Peter Christian Hansen.

Cast: Jeremy Bode (Granillo), Mira Davis (Leila Arden), Coleson Eldredge (Brandon), Craig Johnson (Sir Johnstone Kentley), George Kleven (Kenneth Raglan), Katherine Kupiecki (Mrs. Debenham), Jeffrey Nolan (Rupert Cadell), Matthew Saxe (Sabot).