
Murder, She Didn’t Write began as a long-form improv experiment by the Bristol company Degrees of Error. Created in the early 2010s as a playful spin on classic whodunnits, it has grown into a fully improvised murder mystery powered by audience input. Every performance becomes a unique story that exists for one night only. This mix of sharp comedy and a cleverly unfolding case has made it a Fringe favourite and has carried the troupe all the way to the West End. Guided by the detective Agatha Crusty, the audience chooses the location, a key prop, the victim and the killer. The performers then build the narrative in real time, turning wild suggestions into a coherent plot. When we saw the show, the cast crafted a tale around an orange artificial leg and a group of suspects in Bradford, while weaving in extra suggestions, such as a support group for Titanic survivors. Scenes stayed tight and punchy, and the troupe bounced off one another with extraordinary skill. They manage to mine every faux pas and slip of the tongue for laughs, and their instinct for picking up tiny references and folding them back into the story is quite remarkable. The instances when they challenge each other to recall, or invent, facts about obscure places or objects produce some of the night’s funniest moments. Echoes of Cluedo ran through the instantly recognisable characters, all of whom were great fun to watch, though the narrator-detective occasionally disrupted the momentum rather than guiding it. Murder, She Didn’t Write thrives on surprise, collaboration and fearless invention. By the end of the evening, Degrees of Error makes it clear that their ability to turn chaos into a tightly crafted and consistently funny mystery is the source of the show’s lasting appeal.
Rated: ★★★
Reviewed by J.C.
Photo by Pamela Raith
When, Where, Getting there: