STAGE REVIEW : Stacy Keach Carries a Clever, Thrilling ‘Solitary Confinement’

There is no assumption in the program bio at the Pasadena Playhouse that Rupert Holmes is in any way related to Sherlock Holmes, but, trust me, they are kindred spirits.

Sherlock never, as far as anyone knows, especially not Sir Conan Doyle, indulged in writing musicals or even music. Rupert, on the other hand, has written many popular songs and one popular Broadway musical, “The Mystery of Edwin Drood.” It may have whetted his appetite for mystery thrillers, although it’s hard to tell which came first: the chicken or the egg.

That mystery--the chicken/egg dilemma--is one of a number of questions pondered by Richard Jannings, the suave protagonist of Rupert Holmes’ newest thriller, “Solitary Confinement.”

In this puzzler, which opened Sunday at the Playhouse, tycoon Jannings (Stacy Keach) is something of a composite of Donald Trump, Leona Helmsley and Howard Hughes with the looks of Ted Turner. This is an eccentric, supersharp, mega-rich loner who lives in solitary splendor in the south tower of his fully automated New Mexico castle.

As far as Jannings is concerned, every man is an island (that could be construed as a clue, but forget it). This self-made mogul claims he wants nothing to do with other people, except to use them. No personal contact, please. So for self-centered fun, Jannings writes his memoirs, browbeats the help via a giant TV screen, drives the cook crazy with requests for highly specific meals, researches such recondite issues as the similarities between a raven and a writing desk (or the chicken/egg debate) and plays with his electronic toys.

Lots of toys: Doors and windows that can seal off the room; an array of sound simulations; an indoor putting green like no other; a fascination with magic, Houdini’s magic in particular; and an obsession with sophisticated security.

It is when that security is suddenly threatened (toys alone do not a thriller make) that we’re off on several rounds of the ultimate guessing game--a cliffhanger that upends logic, keeps our minds limber and like the best crossword puzzles, insists that we work hard to make the pieces fit.

That’s as much plot, or sense of plot, as you’ll get from this corner. A thriller is nothing if it can’t be thrilling, and while there is some question at the end of “Solitary Confinement” about whether its circuitry is quite as perfect as Holmes wants us to believe, it can’t be dissected here without revealing entirely too much of what makes the mystery work.

If you liked such specialty items as “Sleuth” or “Deathrap” or even Holmes’ previous thriller, “Accomplice” (which premiered at the Playhouse in 1989, just as this one is premiering now), “Solitary Confinement” could be your cup of hemlock. For good measure, Holmes even throws in some character redemption at the end. Not very persuasive or heart-warming, but that’s hardly the point.

The point, as you’ve figured out, is to lie, cheat and keep us guessing on the edge of our seat. We’re kept guessing all right, but the edge of the seat part is another matter.

“Solitary Confinement” is more of a riddle than a mystery--an elaborately cerebral enigma within a conundrum designed to confuse and titillate our computer within more than our emotions. What rises here is not the adrenalin so much as dispassionate admiration for the sheer cleverness of Holmes’ construct and the way in which he keeps us from thinking straight.

There are minor glitches in the resolution that deal mostly with the efficacy of the electronics involved. These can be easily corrected, but as an entertainment based on the element of surprise--and there is a very large one at the end--”Solitary Confinement” is at the top of its genre.

It is also more a vehicle than it is a play, with Keach firmly in the driver’s seat. He’s first-rate as the irascible poor little rich boy whose arrogance gets taken down a peg or three and whose seemingly endless ingenuity keeps us constantly bemused. William Barclay’s set (Postmodern Gothic or as the play describes it: “Oscar Wilde meets the Sharper Image”) enhanced by Donald Holder’s lights and Jack Allaway’s sound, are grand partners in a grand deception.

It’s true that, unlike Holmes’ “Drood,” “Accomplice,” did not fare that well when it hit Broadway. But a clever, commercial one-set entertainment such as “Solitary Confinement,” with its versatile star and its stunning surprise would seem tailor-made for the prohibitive Broadway stage.

As that other Holmes might say: Elementary, my dear Watson.

* “Solitary Confinement,” Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena. Tuesdays-Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 5 and 9 p.m.; Sundays, 2 and 7 p.m. Ends Dec. 29. $31.50; (818) 356-PLAY, (213) 480-3232. Running time: 2 hours.