REVIEW: Close But No Cigar - Silent Sky Collective

BackDock Arts, Directed by Cale Dennis, Written by Samara Louise

I walked into Close But No Cigar expecting a quirky little noir and walked out grinning like an idiot, having just witnessed one of the most inventive, engaging, and flat-out hilarious new works I’ve seen in a while. Presented by Silent Sky Collective at BackDock Arts, this 60-minute monochromatic whodunnit was a truly distinctive theatrical experience – clever, playful, and packed to the brim with originality.

The piece was developed as a university assignment and blossomed into a full production under the guidance of writer Samara Louise and director/set/lighting designer Cale Dennis. What set this apart from the get-go was the show’s development approach: instead of writing characters to fit a story, Samara asked the actors to develop the characters they wanted to play. She then built the world, context, and storyline around them – flipping the script, so to speak, and creating a play that prioritised characterisation. And wow, did that approach pay off. The result? Five New York archetypes who felt instantly familiar but were completely original.

Once the play began, we were quickly introduced to the five suspiciously suspicious characters, all occupying a single location – a private investigator’s office – for the entire hour. These characters—Dick, Odette, Vivian, Arthur, and Dr Graves—all know each other just enough to cast suspicion. They each have a motive, the means, or the stomach to commit murder (please read that in a thick Brooklyn accent, and you’re now Arthur). When Senator A. Williams turns up dead, the finger-pointing begins—and with every accusation, more secrets and scandals are unearthed. I was expecting some serious noir drama, but what we got instead was a whip-smart, tightly written comedy with a noir flavour, and it was absolutely hilarious!

Steeped in the aesthetic of 1940s film noir, Close But No Cigar didn’t just nod to the genre – it became it. Everything was black, white, and grey. I mean everything. Every single detail, down to the wigs, the rotary phone, and even the whisky was void of colour. As if to wink at us through the fog, each character bore one striking red item to stand out against the monochromatic backdrop: a scarf, heels, cane, pencil, or a croquet mallet. A few red roses and red string on the pinboard completed the picture. Visually, it was stunning. The movement and blocking were so dynamic that the space never felt still. The performers were constantly interacting, using the space to full comedic advantage. Once I got to know the characters, I realised just how perfect their costumes were (by Lucy Wilding). Even the program was themed, designed like an old-timey paper titled The Silent Sky Times and dated the 27th of March 1947.

The lighting design was also worth a round of applause. White lights dominated, in keeping with the aesthetic, but there were dramatic red spotlights during the moments of accusation, and one absolutely brilliant lighting trick that made a section of the stage look like a window with venetian blinds – like you were peeking out of the shadowy detective’s office (or WE were peeking in). Add to that some effective blackouts and old-timey music pre-show, and the immersion was complete before a single line was spoken.

Now let’s talk cast. Because truly, these five actors made the show. Each was clearly deeply connected to their character – and no wonder, given they invented them. Every single one felt authentic to the world, but with a delightfully heightened absurdity that kept me cackling.

Caleb Hockings as Arthur Blackbird was a total standout. His physical comedy had big Jim Carrey energy – all floppy postures and exaggerated gestures – while his voice was pure Brooklyn noir. He had this brilliant running gag with his pencil (always knocking it off his ear and pulling out a fresh one from his pocket like some kind of stylised magic trick), and his movement was so precise it was like watching a living cartoon detective. I couldn't look away.

Cullyn Beckton as Dick Clarke had a wildly unique voice that for some reason made me think of Roger Rabbit – in the best way. Their clueless moments and dramatic monologues were outrageous, their energy unhinged, and their commitment to the absurd was unmatched. Together, Arthur and Dick were the chaotic soul of the show – scene stealers through and through.

Claudia Lyons played Odette Blair with a kind of frenzied but clueless charm. As the theatre girly, she was hilariously relatable and had a standout monologue that stopped me in my tracks. You could feel the shift in tone in her scene – suddenly grounded, raw, and beautiful amidst the chaos.

Lucy Wilding as the icy, unreadable Viviene Fareweather was pitch-perfect noir. She exuded cool elegance with every glance and every drag of her ever-present cigarette. Her performance was often driven by the eyes alone, saying more with a side-glance than a paragraph of dialogue ever could.

Mitch Guyatt as Dr Graves brought this quiet, observational presence that made his character all the more intriguing. He limped with commitment, exuded superiority, and managed to react to every scene like he was watching his own murder mystery unfold. I also spare a moment of admiration for the poor man being made up to look ancient every performance – grey hairspray, wrinkles and all.

What truly elevated the show for me though was the writing. Samara Louise’s script is layered with wordplay, old-timey lingo, theatre in-jokes, and even the occasional pop culture Easter egg—I nearly lost it when I picked up on a sneaky trail of Taylor Swift album titles subtly woven into a scene. It must have been incredibly well researched. Every line feels like a wink to the audience. It's the kind of writing that demands to be listened to – and the cast delivered it with such incredible rhythm and pace. It was the kind of comedy that snuck up on you with its brilliance – slapstick one second, biting satire the next. There were layers too, tucked subtly beneath the humour. It managed to touch on gender roles, power structures, artistic struggle, government corruption, and more—all while making us laugh.

Close But No Cigar is proof that when creatives are given the freedom to collaborate and play, extraordinary things can happen. Silent Sky Collective have crafted something truly memorable, and I’ll be keeping my eyes out for whatever they do next.