Murder, She Laughed: The Women of Deathtrap at freeFall
At freeFall Theatre, Deathtrap turns suspense into communion—blending laughter, murder, and mischief in a thriller that still bites back.
by Avery Anderson
“I was screaming and jumping out of my seat,” says Natalie Symons, remembering the first time she saw Deathtrap as a teenager. “And laughing. I mean, it’s funny.” Sara DelBeato doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah,” she says. “Until it isn’t.”
That’s Deathtrap in a nutshell — a laugh, a gasp, a nervous glance at whoever’s sitting next to you. In a year when the arts headlines read like obituaries—closures, funding cuts, existential panic—there’s something delicious about a play that just wants to thrill you. No metaphors to decode. No think pieces to endure. Just a masterclass in craft that reminds you why people still gather in the dark to feel something together.
At freeFall Theatre this fall, laughter and danger share a stage (and maybe a weapon). Ira Levin’s Deathtrap—the longest-running thriller in Broadway history—runs Oct. 24 through Dec. 7, directed by Matthew McGee and starring freeFall’s own artistic director Eric Davis as playwright-turned-plotter Sidney Bruhl.
Symons plays his wife, Myra, and DelBeato appears as psychic interloper Helga Ten Dorp. The two talk about the show like co-conspirators swapping evidence: part admiration, part mischief, all delight.
“It’s a perfect script.”
“Deathtrap is so perfectly constructed,” Symons says. “It’s like an onion—you peel and peel and there’s always another truth, another lie.” She starts to say what her favorite layer reveals, then stops herself. “The thing I love most about it is—” [REDACTED]. DelBeato bursts out laughing. “You can’t say that!” “I know!” Symons groans. “I almost did.”
If spoilers are a sin, these two are devout sinners trying to stay on the wagon.
DelBeato calls it “a perfect formula, a comedy thriller in two acts.” Symons nods: “Our director Matthew says, ‘even bad productions of it can still be wonderful.’ It just works.”
That confidence—rare in an era of anxious remounts and re-imagined classics—feels refreshing. In a moment when theaters across the country are struggling to sell tickets to anything that isn’t a musical comfort food, Deathtrap is the comfort food that still bites back.
Enter Helga (and the Merv Griffin Show)
Before you picture a grim murder mystery, meet Helga Ten Dorp: clairvoyant, nosy, and impossible to ignore.“ She’s felt pain coming from this certain area,” DelBeato says gravely, “but she also wants you to know she’ll be on The Merv Griffin Show Thursday night.”
It’s part séance, part satire—exactly the kind of tonal gymnastics freeFall specializes in. “You can be laughing one second,” DelBeato says, “and then there’s this tension that makes you go… oh.” What happens after “oh”? [REDACTED].
Why now
So why this show now?
“Because the world’s too loud,” Symons says without hesitation. “You want to escape but not have to unpack anything.”DelBeato nods. “Yeah. We’re all true-crime people now—but this is the pre-true-crime true crime. No podcasts. Just murder and wallpaper.”
She’s joking, but she’s right. In 2025, when audiences doom-scroll between wars, elections, and arts-funding panic, the act of gathering to gasp together feels quietly radical. Suspense becomes communion.
Deathtrap isn’t just another revival—it’s a reminder of what theater can do that screens can’t. It makes you laugh in the same breath you gasp, and then it lets you release the breath with everyone else in the room. Escapism, as it turns out, is an act of connection.
The joy of the long run
Most local shows get two, maybe three weekends. Deathtrap gets seven.
“That’s 7,000 years,” DelBeato jokes. Symons laughs. “Call me in week six.”
But neither sounds tired. “This one’s just so much fun,” Symons says. “I can’t wait to get here every day.”
Their enthusiasm feels contagious—the kind of backstage energy the arts could use more of. As theaters everywhere fight to prove their relevance, freeFall’s brand of theatrical mischief is a quiet rebuttal: relevance isn’t always about politics; sometimes it’s about joy.And if joy comes laced with a little murder? Even better.
Classified Ending
By now you’re wondering: what’s the big twist? What secret are they keeping?
We can’t tell you. (Legally, morally, theatrically—take your pick.) But Symons leaves one hint: “Every time you think you’ve figured it out,” she says, “you realize you haven’t.”
She grins. “And the real shock?”[REDACTED].
If You Go:
Deathtrap runs Oct. 24–Dec. 7, 2025, at freeFall Theatre (6099 Central Ave., St. Petersburg).
Tickets $55 ($25 youth/previews) or included with freeFall’s $29/month subscription.