Young lovers, virtue, villainy, and charming naivete abound. Don John and Borachio and the unwitting Margaret supply the deception regarding Hero. Claudio, Leonato, Don Pedro, and Ursula are the saddened recipients. Only Beatrice, Hero's closest friend, refuses to accept the fabrication and enlists the help of her sometimes suitor, sometimes nemesis, Benedick. Their love battle weaves through the other passions of the play. Order is restored despite the hilarious and oddly-worded meddling of Dogberry and Verges, the inept clowns, uh, constables (these plum comic roles are females in this version). The wedding day finally arrives, under most unusual circumstances, and Friar Francis (who helped right the wrong) blesses the union of Hero and Claudio. Benedick and Beatrice are each mirthfully betrayed by letters and poems in their own hands and a second love match is made. Only Don Pedro seems left out of the joy, and is chided by the formerly sworn woman-hater, Benedick -- "Prince, thou art sad. Get thee a wife!" And music and dancing and celebration bring down the curtain on Much Ado About Nothing.

Just after midnight, a snowdrift stops the Orient Express in its tracks. The luxurious train is surprisingly full for the time of the year, but by the morning it is one passenger fewer. An American tycoon lies dead in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times, his door locked from the inside. Isolated and with a killer in their midst, the passengers rely on detective Hercule Poirot to identify the murderer – in case he or she decides to strike again.