Picture You Dead

The Alexandra Theatre 

Birmingham

By Neil Cox

There’s something uniquely thrilling about walking into a theatre with no idea where the evening might take you. That feeling of stepping into a world unknown was electric last night when I attended Picture You Dead at Birmingham’s Alexandra Theatre. Outside, the city pulsed with its usual summer rhythm: shoppers lingering by closed shutters, and pubs buzzing with laughter. But stepping through the grand old doors of the Alex, the atmosphere shifted. The light dimmed, the noise softened, and the promise of a mystery began to take shape.

Picture You Dead, adapted for the stage from Peter James’s bestselling novel, is a new addition to the Roy Grace series, one that feels fresh, dangerous, and surprisingly moving. At its heart is a story about two ordinary people, Harry and Freya Kipling, who make an extraordinary discovery. During a casual wander through a car boot sale, they pick up a painting; unremarkable at first glance, but beneath the surface lies something that might be priceless: a possibly lost masterwork, obscured by overpainting and dust. What follows is a descent into a dark and deceptive world of forged art, obsessive collectors, and a mounting body count.  A picture paints a thousand clues… and at least one body!

Freya and Harry are the beating heart of the play. Their relationship charming, believable, grounded, makes the stakes of the story feel real. They’re not detectives or schemers, just a couple with a shared passion for antiques and a hopeful glimmer in their eyes. Fiona Wade plays Freya with wonderful range. There’s a restlessness in her, an instinct that something’s not right which evolves into a gripping, quiet desperation as the danger closes in. Ben Cutler’s Harry is more reserved, the kind of gentle soul who trusts too easily. Together, they are magnetic. It’s their sincerity that anchors the more outlandish parts of the story in something truthful.

Opposite them, of course, lie the threats, some visible, some only revealed in flickers. Roberta Kilgore, played with unnerving charisma by Jodie Steele, is one such force of nature. Steel-cold, intelligent, with a slow, deliberate menace, she gives the play its sharpest edge. In scenes where Roberta sits quietly, watching, calculating, the theatre air seems to tighten. She is the kind of villain who rarely raises her voice but always commands the room. Likewise, Stuart Piper, portrayed by Ore Oduba, brings smooth sophistication laced with quiet menace. There’s an elegance to his delivery, a mask of civility that can crack at any moment. You don’t want to trust him. But you do. That’s what makes him dangerous.

Then, there’s DSI Roy Grace. Played by George Rainsford with calm, grounded assurance, Grace remains one of the more understated detectives in fiction. There’s no swagger or tortured genius here, just a man who listens more than he speaks and carries his authority with quiet gravity. Grace arrives into the story from a separate investigation but soon finds the threads of murder, art, and ambition are tied more closely than they first appear. Rainsford’s scenes with Gemma Stroyan, who plays DS Bella Moy, are beautifully done. Stroyan brings wit and groundedness to her role; sharp, funny, efficient and the pair have a rapport that feels earned over years of cases and long nights.

Director Jonathan O’Boyle helms the production with confident restraint. He understands that a good mystery thrives not on pace alone, but on texture. Tension builds gradually, each scene tighter than the last, but the audience is allowed moments of breath…of silence and suspicion, before the next twist lands. O’Boyle never lets the energy slacken, but he also doesn’t rush the story. When the final reveal comes, it feels inevitable rather than forced.

Visually, the production is polished and evocative. The set design by Adrian Linford is deceptively simple, relying on clever transformations: sliding panels, rotating flats, and well-placed props turn one location into the next with seamless ease. The lighting by Jason Taylor does much of the emotional heavy-lifting, shifting the mood from domestic warmth to interrogation-room dread with just a flicker. At one point, a single spotlight isolates a character mid-monologue, casting their shadow large and monstrous against the back wall, it’s subtle, but effective. The sound design is equally immersive, using ambient tones and occasional jolts to heighten suspense. A particular moment, a sudden gunshot was executed with such precision that the entire auditorium visibly recoiled.

Shaun McKenna’s adaptation is faithful to the spirit of the novel, even as it compresses the sprawling narrative into a two-hour runtime. Some lines veer toward the expositional, particularly early on, when characters need to explain the art world’s intricacies. But these moments are largely forgiven by the quality of the performances and the steady build-up of stakes. The dialogue feels natural, especially in the quieter scenes between Freya and Harry, or between Grace and Moy, where pauses say as much as words.

What’s particularly impressive about Picture You Dead is that it refuses to be just a detective thriller. Beneath the surface, it’s a meditation on temptation, on the fragility of morality when opportunity knocks. The Kipling’s story isn’t one of greed, per se, but of gradual compromise. They make small, understandable choices, each one defensible in the moment until they find themselves standing in a nightmare. That slow slide from curiosity to crisis gives the play emotional weight. It’s a cautionary tale, not about evil, but about ordinary people who find themselves out of their depth.

The play also invites reflection on the nature of art. Who decides what’s valuable? A signature? A story? A name? In this world, authenticity is currency but it’s also illusion. The most dangerous characters are those who understand how easily perception can be manipulated, and the story asks whether beauty itself is ever truly objective, or simply a tool for those who know how to sell it.

The audience on the night I attended was fully engaged. There were audible gasps at key twists, murmurs during the interval, and a sharp intake of breath during one particularly unexpected scene. You could feel the tension ripple through the rows. This is a play that thrives on live energy; its pacing, its revelations, even its silences feel made for the communal experience of theatre.

That said, there are a few uneven patches. The first half takes time to settle, with some scenes feeling more like information delivery than drama. A couple of supporting characters particularly in the art world feel underdeveloped, used more for plot propulsion than for dramatic payoff. The ending, while well-executed, may not shock seasoned crime fans. But it satisfies, and more importantly, it resonates emotionally.

The production makes the most of its source material without becoming overly dependent on it. You don’t need to be a Roy Grace reader or ITV series fan to enjoy this version it stands confidently on its own. What elevates it is not just the plot mechanics, but the craft behind every choice: direction, design, performance, pacing. Everything is built to serve the story.

By the time the final applause rolled through the theatre, the audience was on its feet not in an obligatory way, but with genuine appreciation. People lingered in the aisles, still discussing theories, still trying to unpack what they’d seen. That kind of afterglow is rare. It’s a mark of theatre that doesn’t just entertain, but stays with you.

Picture You Dead is a smart, slick, and thoughtful thriller. It doesn’t rely on bombast or gimmicks it lets tension speak for itself. With a stellar cast, elegant design, and just the right amount of psychological bite, it offers one of the most satisfying nights at the theatre this season. Whether you come for the mystery, the drama, or the characters, you’re unlikely to leave disappointed. And like all good thrillers, it just might make you look twice at the next old painting you see!

Picture You Dead is at The Alexandra Theatre, Birmingham until Saturday 28th June 2025 with tickets available at atgtickets.com/birmingham