REVIEW: Guilty Conscience

The Theatre Royal, Windsor – June/July 1986

Character: The Prosecutor

The action takes place in the living room of the Jamison’s townhouse in the East 60’s, New York

Act I

• Scene 1 – Sunday in late May
• Scene 2 – Night

Act II

• Scene 1 – Wednesday evening, twelve days earlier
• Scene 2 – Twelve days later on a Sunday afternoon

Some Background

‘Guilty Conscience’ was written by Richard Levinson and William Link – two American television producers and writers who collaborated for over 40 years, and who penned scripts for the feature films ‘The Hindenburg’ and ‘Rollercoaster’, and the television series, ‘Columbo’ and ‘Murder, She Wrote’. In the 1985 made-for-TV film, Anthony Hopkins took the part of Arthur Jamison, while the role of the Prosecuting Attorney did not exist – instead, Jamison’s sounding board was his own alter ego (or Conscience) which he named ‘Donegan Smith’.

The Story

Few playwrights have grasped the mechanics of suspense as instinctively as Richard Levinson and William Link. Best known as the creative forces behind Columbo and numerous other television mysteries, they built their careers on misleading audiences, challenging assumptions, and demonstrating that intellectual rigor can be as thrilling as physical action. Guilty Conscience is one of their most accomplished stage works – a sophisticated blend of psychological thriller, black comedy, courtroom drama, and murder mystery that delights in keeping its audience off balance. First staged in 1980, the play centres on a brilliant New York attorney whose obsession with orchestrating the perfect murder becomes a dangerous game in which imagination and reality gradually converge.

The premise is deceptively simple. Arthur Jamison (William Franklyn), a successful but unscrupulous lawyer, seeks to rid himself of his wife, Louise (Jan Holden), to avoid the financial repercussions of a divorce. Drawing on his intimate knowledge of criminal law, Arthur constructs elaborate murder schemes, testing each for weaknesses and loopholes. Throughout this process, he debates his plans with an imagined prosecutor (Peter Wyngarde) who exposes every flaw in his reasoning. The plot complicates further when Arthur discovers he is not the only person contemplating murder, leading to a succession of twists, reversals, and competing agendas.

What distinguishes Guilty Conscience from conventional thrillers is its playful self-awareness. Levinson and Link clearly understood the clichés of the genre and took pleasure in dismantling them before the audience’s eyes. Every seemingly fool proof scheme is scrutinised, and every apparent solution reveals a hidden complication. Just as the viewer believes they have anticipated the next development, the playwrights shift the narrative, forcing a reconsideration of everything witnessed. Consequently, the play becomes not merely a mystery, but a commentary on the nature of mysteries themselves.

Arthur Jamison is a compelling protagonist because he fits neither the mold of a traditional villain nor a conventional hero. He is intelligent, arrogant, witty, and morally bankrupt in nearly equal measure. While audiences may disapprove of his intentions, they cannot help but admire the ingenuity of his execution. Levinson and Link wisely position Arthur’s intellect as both his greatest strength and his primary weakness; his confidence in his own brilliance repeatedly leads him into traps of his own making. He is so convinced of his ability to anticipate every possibility that he overlooks the inherent unpredictability of human behaviour.

The play’s dialogue is one of its chief strengths. Arthur’s verbal duels with the prosecutor are charged with energy and humour, resembling a chess match where every move is instantly countered. Long passages that might feel static in lesser works remain engaging here due to the sharp, precise language. The audience is invited to participate mentally, searching for flaws in Arthur’s logic before the prosecutor identifies them, creating a gratifying sense of intellectual involvement.

Humour is another essential component of the play’s success. Despite the gravity of murder and betrayal, Guilty Conscience is frequently comedic. Levinson and Link possess a wicked delight in exposing their characters’ vanity, greed, and hypocrisy. Arthur’s increasingly desperate attempts to devise the perfect crime often border on farce without ever undermining the tension. The laughter arises organically from the characters and situations rather than from forced comic relief.

Structurally, the play is remarkably inventive. It constantly shifts perspective, challenging the audience to distinguish between fantasy, rehearsal, and reality. The line separating Arthur’s imagined scenarios from actual events becomes progressively blurred. While such an approach could easily become confusing, the playwrights maintain enough clarity to ensure the audience remains intrigued. These shifting realities reflect Arthur’s own inability to control the world around him, despite his conviction that he can.

The themes explored in Guilty Conscience are richer than those of a typical commercial thriller. At its core, the play examines ego and self-deception. Arthur believes his intelligence grants him mastery over others, yet the more elaborate his plans become, the more vulnerable he appears. The title is subtly ironic; Arthur imagines himself free from guilt because he can rationalise any action. However, his constant mental rehearsals suggest a man haunted by consequences he refuses to acknowledge. His true adversary is not the prosecutor, but his own conscience.

The supporting characters are equally vital to the drama. Louise is far more than an inconvenient spouse; she possesses her own determination, intelligence, and capacity for manipulation. The various relationships within the play reveal that deceit is never a one-way process—everyone is hiding something and pursuing a private agenda. This creates an atmosphere of perpetual uncertainty in which trust is impossible.

One of the most impressive aspects of Guilty Conscience is its economy. The play does not rely on elaborate sets or large casts; instead, it generates excitement through ideas and carefully constructed suspense. This makes it an attractive piece for theatre companies and highlights the strength of the writing. The audience is captivated not by physical spectacle, but by the intellectual battle unfolding on stage.

A notable strength of Guilty Conscience is its economy. By eschewing elaborate sets, spectacular effects, and large casts, the play generates tension through conceptual depth, character interaction, and carefully constructed suspense. This efficiency makes the production particularly attractive to theatre companies while underscoring the quality of the writing. The audience is captivated not by physical spectacle, but by the intellectual battle unfolding on stage.

The influence of Levinson and Link’s television experience is evident throughout the work. The pacing is brisk, scenes are tightly structured, and revelations are delivered with impeccable timing. However, the play avoids the feeling of a television script transplanted to the stage; instead, it leverages the theatrical medium, using dialogue and imagination to create scenarios that would be less effective on screen. Consequently, the audience becomes an active participant, assembling clues and testing theories alongside the characters.

If the play has a weakness, it may be that its reliance on plot twists occasionally borders on excess. Some viewers might find that the frequent reversals require a considerable suspension of disbelief. Yet, this quality also contributes to the work’s charm. Guilty Conscience does not strive for strict realism; rather, it aims to entertain through ingenuity and psychological gamesmanship, achieving this brilliantly.

Ultimately, Guilty Conscience is a highly satisfying piece of theatrical suspense. Clever without being pretentious and intricate without becoming inaccessible, it exemplifies the craftsmanship that established Richard Levinson and William Link as masters of the mystery genre. The play invites the audience into a world where every certainty is questioned and every solution conceals a new problem. By the final curtain, the viewer is left impressed by the dexterity with which the playwrights have manipulated both characters and audience alike. It remains one of the most intelligent stage thrillers of its era and a testament to the enduring appeal of a well-constructed mystery.

Focus on The Prosecutor

In Guilty Conscience, the Prosecutor serves as one of the play’s most compelling and unconventional characters. While he appears to function as a legal adversary, his role extends far beyond that of a conventional courtroom opponent; he acts as the intellectual foil to Arthur Jamison, the unscrupulous lawyer plotting his wife’s murder. Throughout the drama, the Prosecutor systematically challenges Arthur’s elaborate schemes, exposing critical weaknesses and unforeseen consequences. In many respects, he represents the force of reason standing between Arthur and the execution of the “perfect crime.”

The character is particularly effective due to his detached, analytical nature. While Arthur is driven by greed, frustration, and arrogance, the Prosecutor remains composed and methodical. As Arthur presents seemingly flawless plans, the Prosecutor dismantles them piece by piece, identifying the legal loopholes that would lead to a conviction. Their exchanges form the dramatic core of the play, elevating a standard thriller into a sophisticated battle of wits. The audience’s engagement is largely derived from watching the Prosecutor intellectually outmanoeuvres Arthur, puncturing his confidence with precision.

On a symbolic level, the Prosecutor embodies Arthur’s own conscience – a voice that challenges his criminal fantasies. Whether interpreted as a literal character, a psychological projection of Arthur’s mind, or a combination of both, he serves as a constant reminder that actions have consequences and that no criminal can account for every variable.

Despite the gravity of his role, the Prosecutor provides significant comic relief. Levinson and Link endow him with a sharp wit and irony, allowing him to deliver some of the play’s most memorable lines. His relish in exposing Arthur’s errors creates a dynamic of verbal sparring that drives much of the script’s energy. Their relationship resembles a chess match, where every move is calculated and every apparent victory is swiftly countered.

Ultimately, the Prosecutor is far more than a supporting character; he is the engine of the play’s suspense and the embodiment of logic and conscience. Without his presence, Guilty Conscience would lack much of its intellectual rigor, humour, and psychological depth. He ensures that the play transcends the genre of a simple murder mystery to become a compelling exploration of guilt, ego, and the limits of human cunning.

After Thoughts

The play succeeds in its own ability to recognize its weaknesses. Unlike most stage mysteries where the audience is asked to ignore the plot holes and revel in the detective’s brilliance at spotting the clue and solving the crime, this play takes pride in pointing out its own holes as it goes along. As an audience participation spectacle, it was fun to play along, spotting the holes before the characters do. Fans of the genre would have no doubt remained intrigued and found the ending quite satisfying. The whole play came off much like the great Olivier and Caine character study in ‘Sleuth’ and those who have seen that particular film know what kind of a compliment that is.

Interview with Peter

The following is an interview with Peter that was published in the programme for the play