David Mister, Jen Cuevas, and Zach Vaughn-Munck Photo by Mikenzie Gilbert

The triggering event is that noted artist Jack invites his New York City art dealer, Vincent, to dinner at his country home in Connecticut. Jack's motivation is to demand that Vincent sell Jack's newest painting, "Study in Red #4," for $1 million–though it has languished for four months at Vincent's gallery. Incidentally, the painting is yellow, and there were no studies 1, 2, or 3, but call it an artist's eccentricity. What's more, don't evaluate the title, as Jack's mantra is "Never judge an artist," which appears in conflict with reality, as an artist's very success depends on the market's judgment. But then Jack doesn't believe that life should be rational.

We also meet Jack's wife Annie who is an artist as well. She receives second-class treatment from Vincent, who misogynistically argues that only men are true artists, though we will learn that Annie's ample skills have been largely hidden.

Also hidden at first are the agendas that each of the three main characters pursue. Ambition, resentment, seemingly shifting alliances, and thoughts of murder emerge as the plot thickens. Indeed, when the trio discusses how to increase the value of an artist's work, death by any means works wonders, but murder or suicide are especially good career moves.

Although most of the twists and turns are clever and well executed, and several ideas appear original, including Jack's beloved isolation tank as a death trap, one major development is telegraphed. Even that does deserve some forgiveness, however, as it is pretty essential to the overall arc, and it's one of many ruses. Otherwise, some conventions elicit gasps and laughs, from faked deaths to darkened rooms and eviscerated voices.

If there is a weakness in the script and the execution, it is that the two male characters are strong stereotypes and performed as written. In fairness, this is a farce, which usually demands over-the-top and often one-note if relentlessly earsplitting performance. Zach Vaughn-Munck is Jack, and he is convincing in the role. But he is boisterous, self-centered, domineering, and single-minded (whew!), which can become tiresome, and his volume levels are loud and louder. Annie has even suggested that he is psychotic but that there is a monster in all of us. David Mister is Vincent, and he too is loud with exaggerated diction, arms-flailing flamboyance, and totally self-aggrandizing.

In contrast, the two women are understated and bring balance to the presentation. As Annie, Jen Cuevas shows a range of emotions but with subtlety that can be appreciated. It's sometimes hard to know what she is thinking or what direction Annie is going in. In a smaller but instrumental role, Adriana Hokk is also modulated as Kate, an immigrant housekeeper seeking a green card, who happens to possess a degree in chemistry. Hmm!

Despite the elements of farce and mystery, considerable social commentary enriches the story. Gender roles play large. Interestingly, director Jones's program notes fix on gender bias, even citing that the original script and other sources list Jack first in the cast, though by many common listing practices, Annie would appear first. However, I would argue that Jack is the central character. What Jones fails to reveal is that, ultimately, the talent and the ideas in the play are shown to reside with the women. So, if anything, The Art of Murder can be appreciated as a sneaky tribute to female competence.

The action plays out on Louis Stone-Collonge's very functional great room, whose most distinguishing feature is the isolation tank with its conspicuous lever for water control. Chris Beer's lighting and Tina Vo's sound add to the sense of tension which contributes to the unsettling but enjoyable experience that will keep the audience wondering what will come next.

The Art of Murder runs through October 19, 2025, at The Pear Theatre, 1110 La Avenida, Mountain View CA. For tickets and information please visit www.thepear.org.