Tucked away in a repurposed livestock sale barn in Clinton, Oklahoma—because of course—lies one of the sharpest, sassiest, and most side-splitting productions this side of Broadway (or at least Weatherford). When the Southwest Playhouse rolled the dice on *Clue*, they didn’t just cast the usual suspects— they threw a party full of murder, mayhem, and marvelously timed mischief. You still have three chances to catch the show, Friday May 2nd, 7:30pm; Saturday May 3rd, 7:30pm; and May 4th, 2:00pm. Tickets are available at southwestplayhouse. com The set sprawled across the stage like an architectural game board, with every room, hallway, and dramatically lit stairwell packed to the gills with suspicious activity. Bonus points for a long upstairs table—a tableau so theatrically composed it looked like Da Vinci himself had staged it for a murder.
At the helm of this mystery madness was first-time director Natalie Houck—whose debut performance proved she’s got the chops to turn chaos into choreography. Pacing? Tight. Blocking? Clever. Homage to the original movie? Faithful without being a copycat. She didn’t just direct a play—she conducted a symphony of suspicion.
Each character came dressed to kill—figuratively and occasionally literally. Colonel Mustard (John Williams) blustered around with the swagger of a man who’s both armed and absolutely confused. Miss Scarlett (Gina Jones), gliding through scenes in a red dress that seemed to carry its own spotlight, was impossible to ignore. Mr. Green (Wesley Javorsky) was green with nerves, guilt, or both—who knows? Mrs. Peacock (Sheri McCoy) strutted in full-feathered glory, flapping like high society one martini deep. And Mrs. White (Julie K. Barnett), dressed in black— because irony is the best color— glided through scenes with deadly precision. Scene-stealing cameos from Yvette the Maid (Gini Smith) and the Cook (Karolyn Koester) reminded us that fewer lines sometimes lead to louder applause.
And Professor Plum (Ryan Houck), ever the bumbling intellectual, shuffled through the scenes with the distracted charm of a man who’s definitely read all the murder mystery books—and still can’t quite solve one in real life. Houck gave Plum a lovable mix of absentmindedness and sly wit, making him as suspicious as he was hilarious.
And speaking of that Maid— mon dieu. Gini Smith delivered one of the strongest French accents ever heard on an Okla- homa stage, and it never slipped—not once. She was sharp, sultry, and commanding, holding her own with whip-smart comedic delivery and stage presence that rivaled anyone else’s. She didn’t just sweep the stage—she stole it.
Now, let’s talk about the real stars: the dead bodies. Bodies dropped faster than internet service during an Oklahoma windstorm. It was less a murder mystery and more like a boneless actor farm. One particularly stiff guest remained motionless for nearly 45 minutes—call it performance art or extreme napping, but it was impressive.
When the lights come down at Southwest Playhouse… they *really* come down. In a production full of surprises, the lighting and sound didn’t just support the show— they amplified it. Timing was everything, and this tech crew hit every mark with the precision of, well, Chekhov’s gun on a dimmer switch: slow, deliberate, and perfectly in sync with the rising tension of each scene.
This was not tech in the background—it was tech as character. The lighting didn’t just reveal the scene, it sculpted it. The sound didn’t just support the action, it drove it. The stage management, calling every blackout, every entrance, every reveal, deserves its own standing ovation. It’s easy to forget that behind every perfectly timed pratfall and dramatic gasp is a backstage army armed with cues, dimmers, gels, and sheer grit. This crew didn’t just elevate the performance—they *anchored* it.
And the laughter? Oh, the laughter. Every giggle and gasp was exactly where it belonged. Scripted? Probably. Hysterical? Definitely. At times, the cast seemed to laugh right along with us—but never out of character. Just enough to feel like we were all in on the joke, solving the mystery together.
But Wait—Was That the Ending? Or Was It… In true *Clue* fashion, just when you think the curtain’s coming down, it swings right back up again. Was it Professor Plum in the library with the wrench? Miss Scarlett— gliding through the ballroom in a red dress that could stop a heartbeat— with the candlestick? Or perhaps Mr. Green in the kitchen, visibly sweating bullets while reaching for the revolver? Could it have been Colonel Mustard in the study with the lead pipe, puffed up with patriotic confusion? Or Mrs. Peacock, feathers flying in full flair, flailing through the lounge with a dagger tucked just out of sight? Then again, maybe it was Mrs. White, all in black and twice as sharp, tightening the rope with a smirk from the shadows.
At Southwest Playhouse, you don’t just get a show. You get every ending, every twist, and every possible combination of suspect, room, and weapon— played out with the kind of timing and theatrical panache that makes the mayhem not only believable, but downright irresistible.
The final act is a merry march of misdirection, topped off with what can only be described as Western Oklahoma’s own Keystone Kops—stumbling, bumbling, and utterly delightful as they attempt to restore order to the mansion of madness. And somehow… it works. Again. And again. And again.
By the end, you’re not just clapping—you’re half convinced you committed the crime yourself. Or maybe it was the tech crew. They *did* know all the cues.
So whether it’s the dagger or the lead pipe, the study or the lounge, the butler or the bird-brained guest—*Clue* at Southwest Playhouse delivers a deadly dose of theater magic. And if you don’t know whodunit by the time the lights go out?
Well… maybe it was *you* all along.
Cast of Characters (and the Crew Who Caught Them) The suspects were played to perfection by a cast that couldn’t miss—even with a lead pipe: Wadsworth – Whitten Eustace Miss Scarlett – Gina Jones Colonel Mustard – John Williams Mrs. Peacock – Sheri McCoy Professor Plum – Ryan Houck Mrs. White – Julie K. Barnett Mr. Green – Wesley Javorsky Yvette – Gini Smith Cook – Karolyn Koester Mr. Boddy / Telegram Girl – Diana Torres Police Chief – Jerry Sheppard Motorist – Amy Baker Unexpected Officer – Malynda Blevins Backup Cop – Shona Stermer Directed by Natalie Houck Lights – Ashley Underwood & Lupita Mora Soundboard – Nic Adkinson & Julie Adkinson Props – Misty Brooks & Julie Adkinson Set – Jerry Sheppard, John Williams, Ryan Houck, Craig McCoy & Marji Anderson Costumes – Jasey Burnam, Kathy Gregory, Teddi McAbee & Elizabeth McLean Soundtracks – Emma Brown
