The Capone Trilogy: Vindici

“Forgive me, but I thought of you as more of a cliché.” When this line is spoken by Vindici, a psychologically disturbed Italian American detective plucked from the pages of noirish crime fiction, its implication is that the femme fatale he's addressing has acted against type. This couldn't be further from the truth. Jethro Compton's Capone Trilogy is a glorious celebration of cliché, and fans of the genre to which it pays homage will have already come across each of the three characters found in this instalment more times than they'd care to remember. Their motivations are clear from the beginning and the various plot twists thrown our way serve to reassure rather than surprise.

A classic revenge tragedy, Vindici makes little attempt at narrative innovation, yet isn't content to coast on stylised period detail and sharp one-liners. Its action takes place in a tiny performance space reminiscent of a dank 1940s Chicago slum. Paper peels off the walls and the silhouette of a ceiling fan cuts through whatever dim light there is. With benches running along either side of the room, the play becomes a truly immersive experience for the audience. Indeed, once the characters' witty dialogue begins to dry up, they opt instead for intense histrionics that leave many in open mouthed shock. Self-consciously cinematic and yet entirely tangible, this mini-epic of voyeurism, death and corruption is an addictive hit in the making.