The 39 Steps

Pendle Hippodrome Theatre Group’s production of The 39 Steps, adapted from John Buchan’s classic novel and filtered through Patrick Barlow’s brilliantly irreverent stage version, proved to be an unexpected comic triumph. I arrived expecting a taut thriller; instead, I found myself swept into a whirlwind of quick‑fire humour, ingenious theatricality, and a cast who delivered the story’s twists with such wit and precision that the entire evening became hilarious fun.

The plot follows Richard Hannay, an ordinary man thrust into extraordinary danger after a chance encounter with a mysterious woman draws him into a web of espionage. Wrongly accused of murder and pursued across Scotland, Hannay must uncover the truth behind the shadowy organisation known as “The 39 Steps” before time runs out. What begins as a classic chase thriller becomes, in this production, a riotous celebration of theatrical invention, with characters, locations, and full set‑pieces conjured at breakneck speed by a hardworking ensemble.

Under the assured direction of Damian Marsh, the production crackled with energy from the outset. Damian’s casting was pitch‑perfect: every performer seemed born to their track, whether delivering deadpan espionage cool or diving headlong into the show’s most gloriously unexpected comic moments. What could so easily have been played as a straight thriller instead became a masterclass in timing, invention, and theatrical mischief. The atmosphere throughout was bright, taut, and irresistibly funny. Damian kept the pace razor‑sharp, allowing the humour to land without ever losing the thread of the story. The ensemble’s commitment to the show’s fast‑moving style ensured that even the smallest moment felt intentional and alive.

Behind the whirlwind of comedy and quick‑change invention was the steady, meticulous work of Stage Manager Penelope Hatfield. The production opened in Hannay’s London flat, its entire contents hidden beneath a dust sheet as the room was “being redecorated,” a witty conceit that became a treasure trove of theatrical possibility. From this single cluttered space emerged everything needed to conjure the world of the play: the Forth Bridge, a windswept Scottish field, train compartments, hotel rooms, and countless other locations, all artfully tucked into the organised chaos on a small rise at the rear of the stage. Set either side of the proscenium were two viewing boxes, vantage points for scenes involving Mr Memory and other moments of public spectacle. These boxes gave the production a delightful sense of depth, as though the theatre itself were taking part in the chase.

The ingenuity of the props team, Lisa Manley, and Amy Braithwaite, elevated this concept even further. Their work provided the show with many, great visual gags and practical solutions, each one cleverly disguised within the plain clutter of Hannay’s flat. Everyday objects became structural elements of the bridge; a handful of household items transformed into a train carriage; and the smallest prop could, at a moment’s notice, become a vital clue, a window frame, or a piece of countryside. Their creativity was woven into every beat of the production, supporting the cast’s physical storytelling with playfulness.

One of the evening’s standout achievements was the train sequence, which looked exemplary. The cast’s physical storytelling, walking along the “outside” of the carriages, clinging to ladders suspended from a beam, and navigating the swirling smoke that evoked the Forth Bridge, created a vivid illusion with minimal means. It was a perfect example of the production’s ethos: trust the audience, embrace the artifice, and let imagination do the rest.

The lighting design by Ryan Collett gave the production its cinematic snap. Ryan lit the show with a confidence and clarity that elevated every gag, chase, and reveal. Sharp, purposeful cues kept the pace tight; sudden shifts in colour and angle heightened the comedy; and his ability to carve out space on a busy stage meant the audience always knew exactly where to look. His atmospheric use of shadow during the Forth Bridge sequence, combined with smoke, silhouettes, and those precarious ladders, created a striking illusion that felt far grander than the modest means behind it.

Sound design by Karl Pilkington was excellent throughout, giving the production a crisp, confident audio landscape that matched its pace and precision. Karl’s effects were clean, well‑timed, and beautifully balanced, no feedback, no muddiness, just sharp cues that landed exactly where the comedy and tension needed them. From the clatter of the train to the atmospheric hum of the Scottish moors, his work grounded the show’s whirlwind of invention in a world that felt vivid and alive.

The wardrobe team, led by Carol Cook, delivered a parade of costumes that kept the show’s momentum racing. With The 39 Steps demanding lightning‑fast transformations, especially for the two Clowns, Carol’s work became a vital engine of the comedy. Coats, kilts, hats, uniforms, disguises, each piece was chosen and constructed with an eye for character, clarity, and comic potential.

Wigs by Sophie Greenwood added another layer of delight. From sleek femme‑fatale glamour to wild Scottish eccentricity, Sophie’s creations helped the cast snap instantly into new identities. The Clowns received help from her work: one moment stern officials, the next flustered hotel proprietors, then suddenly passengers, police officers, or performers, each wig a visual punchline.

At the centre of the whirlwind stood Stevan Manley as Richard Hannay, delivering a performance of real charm and assurance. Stevan captured Hannay’s suave, slightly world‑weary cool with ease, that clipped, gentleman‑adventurer voice, the raised eyebrow, the unflappable composure even as chaos erupted around him. His comedy timing was immaculate, but what truly anchored the show was his generosity as a performer: he gave the Clowns space to shine, matched Vicki’s shifts of tone with ease, and held the narrative thread with a steady, engaging presence. It was a performance of real craft, stylish, funny, and quietly commanding.

Vicki Goldsworthy delivered a trio of wonderfully distinct performances as Annabelle Schmidt, Margaret McTyte, and Pamela Edwards. Vicki’s versatility was a joy to watch she moved from mysterious femme fatale to warm Highland wife to sharp, modern hero with total clarity. Her accents were crisp, her physicality beautifully judged, and her instinct for comedy was spot‑on. Each character felt fully realised, and each added something different to Hannay’s journey.

Kevin Riley as Clown One and Wendy Watson as Clown Two were the show’s comic engine, and their work was nothing short of outstanding. Kevin brought boldness, precision, and a wonderfully elastic sense of character to every role he touched. Wendy matched him with a whirlwind of energy, razor‑sharp timing, and a gift for physical comedy that had the audience roaring. Together, they created a double‑act of pure theatrical joy, inventive, fearless, and endlessly funny. Their commitment drove the show’s pace, its humour, and its sense of playful anarchy.

This was a production that captured everything audiences love about live theatre: ingenuity, teamwork, and a company willing to throw themselves wholeheartedly into the adventure. The 39 Steps is a demanding piece, fast, physical, and reliant on absolute trust between performers and crew, yet Pendle Hippodrome Theatre Group made it look effortless. Every department contributed something distinctive, and together they created an evening that was bright, clever, and joyously funny from start to finish. It was a genuinely impressive achievement, and a thoroughly entertaining night at the theatre. Thanks to all at Pendle Hippodrome for their hospitality throughout the evening.

 

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