Deconstructing the elements of murder is like the dismantling of a Michelin star sandwich, each layer carefully examined and reimagined in the pursuit of reinvention. This same fascination with the macabre, and its intriguing undertones, is a continued human obsession.

The era of family-friendly consumption, characterized by conventional goodness, has since faded. Today, audiences are drawn to narrative structures that defy the safe in favor of the more taboo; delving into the depth of presumed evil, and challenging ethical cores, has almost become a spectator sport.

What once would repulse the majority now stands as the new centerpiece of media culture, and extends itself to our everyday lives. While some still choose to avert their gaze from the dreariness of topical content, director Gary Boyer proposes something quite different: Embrace it.

“Dial ‘M’ for Murder” opened The Pennsylvania Playhouse’s cinematic season urging spectators to consider this same idea of confronting our collective troubled obsession. Resulting, then, in an engaging Hitchcock-spun play that allows a flirtation with the morbidity of uncovering a murder mystery that is presented head-on.

The Jan. 26 performance was seen for this review. “Dial ‘M’ for Murder” continues through Feb. 9 at Pennsylvania Playhouse.

Following the blueprint of most true-crime stories, “Dial ‘M’” begins with a typical pacing, sluggish in a way that evokes positive intent.

This slowness, deliberate in its dense dialogue, is essential to establish the setting.

Having the three-act intentional in its stillness left room for Margaret Wilson as Margot Wendice, and Josh Steinhouse as Max Halliday, to shine amidst an otherwise dull, albeit thoughtfully-crafted, living room.

The lifelessness of the London apartment adopts a personality of its own, almost feeling like a silent accomplice to the then explained murder plot from the onset.

For a play that explains itself from the beginning, particularly a murder mystery, it begs for a cast to be strong enough to retain engagement throughout. Each actor did just that in their commitment to their own archetype.

Perhaps most committed is Armand Reiser as Tony Wendice, Margot’s husband narrating her proposed downfall in the shape of murder. Sinister in stance, and bold in character choice, Reiser cemented himself as the show’s gravitational force that oozes this constant feeling of spine-tingling dread.

There was a believability to the chemistry shared with an equally-footed Wilson, too, delivering a multilayered performance worthy of a closer look.

Bringing this same level of intentional depth is Brad Campbell as Inspector Hubbard, the show’s detective type that leads with a certain 1950s’ charm.

Reiser and Campbell share a quality reminiscent of the greats from the film noir era; a replication of that magnitude is difficult to achieve through a modern lens, and yet, it felt as if we were transported to a tale told in black-and-white.

Thus achieving Boyer’s accuracy toward paying homage to the cinematic adaption rather than just phoning a play-by-play copy of the original stage version. Which, in any turn, would have negated the Playhouse’s bold, but already successful, attempt to recreate household favorites on its Hollywood-like soundstage.

Rounding out the ensemble cast are Deven Windisch and Allen Riegel. Riegel is introduced to us as Captain Lesgate, a pawn in this cat-and-mouse thriller crafted by Resier’s central character.

Proving that no part is too small, Riegel and Windisch use the most of their stage time with presence, a seeming appreciation for the source material, and even offer brief glimpses of comedic relief baked into the seriousness of the production.

Their characters, specifically, seem to nourish the appetite of audiences finding themselves too closely involved with the murder plot.

We should, as audiences, want the dead characters to be avenged. Further, we should want the traditional hero, the police in this story, to catch the culprit.

Because, again, we have to be reminded that our fascination with death and murder as media can only start and end with curiosity of breaching the unethical. “Dial ‘M’ for Murder” is a sharp reminder of that.

“Dial ‘M’ for Murder,” 7:30 p.m. Jan. 24, 25, 31, Feb. 1, 7, 8; 3 p.m. Jan. 26, Feb. 2, 9, The Pennsylvania Playhouse, 390 Illick’s Mill Road, Bethlehem. 610-865-6665, http://www.paplayhouse.org/