When guests Frank (Nigel Thomas), Vera (Isla Ure) and Major Burns (Tom Knight) arrive at a sleek maisonette apartment in central London they are anticipating a normal night among friends. Unbeknownst to them, Jack (Andrew Fitch), their host for the evening, has other plans. Every detail has been meticulously planned, their arrivals timed to the second and the evening scripted in advance. Jack has been sleeping with Vera behind Frank’s back, and having grown increasingly resentful of his friend and their mutual lover now seeks revenge on them both. In Cluedo as in life, Frank’s weapon of choice is the much-maligned and dangerously underestimated candlestick.

There is something quietly confident about Christopher Presswell’s Candlestick — the writer-director’s second film, following Forget Paris, which premiered at Raindance in 2011 to favourable reviews. Billed as a Hitchcockian homage, the film is quick to credit the Master of Suspense with a title sequence that skilfully recalls Vertigo with its red and white design. This aesthetic works beautifully, and the effect — as reinforced by the simple poster and the die counting down to its debut at the Aberdeen Film Festival on Wednesday — is both inventive and self-aware. It’s all very promising indeed.

Presswell is certainly resourceful, and Candlestick achieves a lot with relatively little. It’s 83 minutes long, contains five named characters and is essentially confined to three small rooms, but doesn’t for a moment feel limited in scope or ambition. Cinematographer Haidar Zafar makes full use of the space provided, never failing to find an interesting angle as he stalks the characters around the flat, while András Forgács — who co-wrote with Presswell — has developed the premise until it has more in common with a Derren Brown special than an episode of Midsomer Murders, prizing build up over pay off. A compliment, believe me — that’s coming from a Midsomer fan.

It’s a funny film too, particularly as it takes pot shots at other murder mysteries, but is sadly let down by one or two of the performances — some cast members are more adept at comedy than others. On paper Jack sounds like an interesting villain — a wannabe actor who shifts one point further along the autism spectrum with every revelation about his character — but he works better wrought in words than in flesh. Given how witty the script is, how quirky the marketing and plucky the (admittedly sparse) score, the lead seems a little lifeless by comparison. There’s no edge, no menace or glee, just a slightly smug looking man in a suit. He’s such poor company that you begin to wonder why everyone else — particularly the strangely sympathetic Frank and the immediately likeable Major Burns — even turned up.

Candlestick is a fun film with a lot to say about the genre in general — and easily the most enjoyment you will ever get out of watching other people play Cluedo — but ultimately it has little to add. A candlestick may get the job done, but in Jack’s hands it’s still just a blunt instrument.