Review: THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN, The Alexandra - Tour
Photo credit: Danny Kaan
Adapted for the stage by Rachel Wagstaff and Duncan Abel from Paula Hawkins’ chart-topping psychological thriller, The Girl on the Train arrives with a sleek design and a familiar story – one that’s already captivated readers, filmgoers and audiobook listeners alike. Directed by Loveday Ingram, this version stays faithful to the original plot, offering a linear and straightforward retelling that is atmospheric and engaging, if a little safe.
Rachel Watson (Louisa Lytton) is the troubled heart of the story – an alcoholic, recently divorced, and adrift after losing her job. Each day, she takes the train past the home of what looks like the perfect couple, until one day the woman, Megan Hipwell, disappears. Rachel’s involvement in the case blurs the lines between witness and suspect, and what unfolds is a mystery wrapped in memory, misdirection, and trauma.
Lytton is a capable Rachel, and she finds flashes of lightness in a role that too often feels one-note. While her pain is evident, her performance lacks some of the nuance and emotional layering that makes the novel’s unreliable narrator so compelling. More memorable is Paul McEwan’s DI Gaskill, who brings a subtle charisma to his role. With a slightly bumbling air and a warm, knowing presence, he becomes a kind of moral compass – a gentle guide through the emotional fog that Rachel finds herself in.
Visually, the production is handsomely realised. Adam Wiltshire’s set design is clean and clever – three large, gorse-covered panels act as both backdrop and canvas for Dan Light’s impressive video projections. Together with Jack Knowles’ shadowy lighting and Elizabeth Purnell’s spine-prickling sound design, the technical elements conjure a sense of psychological unease that the script itself sometimes lacks. Composer Paul Englishby adds a restrained score that sits quietly under scenes, occasionally surfacing to add tension or melancholy.
Scenes shift fluidly with the help of minimal but meaningful props – a drinks cabinet, a chair, a rug – grounding us in each location without fuss. Rachel’s mattress, while thematically effective, occasionally feels cumbersome on stage. Mike Ashcroft’s movement direction keeps things tight and purposeful, while in-scene flashbacks are particularly well handled, offering insight into the past without slowing the present.
There are moments of levity – welcome and well-placed – and these are where Lytton comes alive, offering glimpses of the emotional range the role demands. The supporting cast, including Jason Merrells as Rachel’s slippery ex Tom, and Natalie Dunne as the enigmatic Megan, deliver solid performances, adding texture to the drama.
For those unfamiliar with the book or film, this is a satisfying evening of theatre – handsomely produced, well-acted, and easy to follow. But for fans of the source material, the lack of narrative ambiguity and psychological complexity may feel like a missed opportunity. The tension never quite tightens, and the mystery never fully grips.
That said, there’s a lot to admire here – from the sleek design to some standout performances. While this train may not rattle the tracks, it still makes for a decent journey.
A polished production that doesn’t quite pull into the station.
*** Three stars
Reviewed by: Alanna Boden