Hercule Poirot | Thinking about books

Agatha Christie’s Poirot: The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb (1993)

March 11, 2012 David Marshall 2 comments

Agatha Christie’s Poirot: The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb (1993) (Season V, Episode 1) shows the good and bad sides of television adaptations. There are times when you can see the production values have been cut. This is usually because it’s not economical to spend more money in producing a more leisurely version of the story on the screen. Corners are cut to get the story out there, allow time for the ads, and hopefully keep the purists happy. In this case, ironically, we have more than enough material for a “one-hour” package, i.e. about fifty minutes actual running time. Why? you ask. Because this is bringing a short story to the screen. Whereas the purist’s angst might jump up (or should that be down?) to levels of major despondency if a full novel is abridged to fit into the straightjacket of less than an hour, this generates similar levels of despondency, albeit from the opposite end of the spectrum. Frankly, even taking the most generous view of the source material, it’s a slight story. If you were sitting around a campfire on a dark evening around Halloween, telling this tale would occupy no more than ten minutes — and that’s with the storyteller taking time between paragraphs to munch on half-a-dozen of the marshmallows toasting over the flames. That’s ten paragraphs and six marshmallows — you do the arithmetic. Some storytellers will do anything to impress their listeners.

Why Halloween? you ask. Well, this is Agatha Christie flirting with the supernatural. Yes, it’s a mummy’s curse apparently killing off the members of an archaeological team digging in the Valley of the Kings. When they break into a tomb, Sir John Willard, the team leader, lasts two minutes and then keels over. He’s dead before he hits the floor. Cue ominous music and awestruck expressions from the remainder of the team. The diggers and guards are for running away, but all the “while folk” put on a brave face and allay the fears of the superstitious locals. Amusingly when Hercule Poirot (David Suchet) and Captain Hastings (Hugh Fraser) arrive on the scene with Sir John’s son, Guy Willard (Grant Thatcher), we also have the shadow on the tent trick. As if Anubis would actually be stalking around the campsite looking for a late-night snack (possibly of marshmallows). All this is particularly shallow stuff in supernatural terms — although being fair to Agatha Christie, she wrote these stories in the early 1920s at a time when people were much more inclined to suspend disbelief and accept mere hints of the paranormal as a full story. Indeed, Poirot approaches the case with implicit scepticism. He’s much more interested in the credulity of people. For him, in the wrong hands, the force of superstition could become a murder weapon.

David Suchet and Grant Thatcher acting Egypt

So now we have to sympathise with Clive Exton who drew the short straw for adapting this tale for the screen. He has to spin out this thin gruel into a feast without spending a fortune on everyone flying out to Egypt for several month’s location shooting. We begin auspiciously with Miss Lemon (Pauline Moran) in her office in London with tarot card turning up death, and then with Hastings using the planchette board. Later the good Captain explains Miss Lemon has been depressed by the death of her cat and is trying to reach her on the other side. Thoughtfully, on his way back from Egypt, Hercule Poirot stops at one of the tourist stalls and buys her a reproduction black cat. He then convinces his gullible secretary she can use it to feel closer to her dead cat.

Once in Egypt, we have stereotyped Americans and Egyptians milling around in tents with the odd camel and other geographically appropriate props available to give the scenes credibility. All I can say is thank God for Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings who brave all hazards to dress for dinner and maintain a proper sense of decorum at all times. Put this together and you will understand how truly dreadful all this is. Despite the best efforts of the indefatigable David Suchet and the always reliable Hugh Fraser, the nature of the puzzle to be solved is trivial. Not that death is ever trivial, you understand. But it does not take many little grey cells to see who must be responsible. In this instance, the ending of the original story has been changed slightly to add a moment of drama. There’s also an early use of the telephone to gather confirmatory evidence. But all to no avail. Unless you are a completist determined to watch every episode regardless of quality, The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb is not worth bothering with.

For reviews of other Agatha Christie stories and novels, see:

Categories: TV and anime Tags: Agatha Christie, Agatha Christie's Poirot: The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb, Clive Exton, David Suchet, detective fiction, Grant Thatcher, Hercule Poirot, Hugh Fraser, mystery, Pauline Moran, supernatural

Agatha Christie’s Poirot: Hallowe’en Party (2010)

January 7, 2012 David Marshall Leave a comment

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Agatha Christie was sometimes tempted into flirting with the supernatural. There’s the collection appropriately named The Hound of Death, and some of the stories involving Harley Quin. Then we have the séances. Some are explicitly fake as in The Sittaford Mystery and Peril At End House. But there are others where, at first sight, there might be real “spooks”, e.g. Dumb Witness. The novel, The Pale Horse, is more explicit in the tradition of Dennis Weatley with its black magic theme, and then there’s this slightly atmospheric novel with the murder taking place during Halloween. If there’s a consistent theme, it’s the effect the dead have on the living. Many characters are left with the feeling there are loose ends from the past. Some bear burdens of guilt. In a sense, this is perfectly consistent with the literature with which Agatha Christie grew up. There’s a wonderful Gothic tradition that mixes in with both the bottom, penny-dreadful end of the market and the more classic work of Conan Doyle, H G Wells, and so on. It’s not surprising she should have tipped her toe in the supernatural pool from time to time, e.g. to spice up a murder in an exotic location as in Murder in Mesopotamia.

Deborah Findlay and Vera Filatova as the au-pair

In this adaptation, there’s a deliberate attempt to create atmosphere both at the beginning and later when Rowena Drake (Deborah Findlay) is walking back through the woods to her country home. I confess to being slightly ambivalent about this. Although I accept the legitimacy of creating an ambiance for the children’s halloween party, the murder itself has no supernatural connotations and there’s nothing else to justify the notion there may be a deranged stalker lurking in the woods — it’s a bit like a poor man’s slasher film and somewhat out of character with the rest of the programme. The other shift in emphasis comes from the change in the manner of the earlier school teacher’s death which is used to substantiate several hints she and the child victim were witches who went through a form of trial by water.

Putting aside these minor aberrations, the rest of the production is played straight and without any more obviously supernatural hints (allowing for the fact Agatha Christie did set one scene on an altar supposedly used for pagan rituals). Charles Palmer follows on from The Clocks with another stylish adaptation, this time penned by the increasingly ubiquitous Mark Gatiss, that stays reasonably faithful to the spirit of the original. I forgive the decision not to allow the murder(s) to escape justice. The final confrontation we see does quite perfectly capture the extent of the narcissism involved although, as I recall the original, there maybe one too many murders listed in the reveal at the end. I’ll have to dig out my copy and refresh my memory. But, more seriously, there’s the problem of the supposed lesbian relationship and the less than convincing explanation of how it ended. It’s a slightly tiresome feature of several of these Christie adaptations that a sexual subtext has been added or overemphasised. Once the decisions are taken to drop The Elms school and to change Janet White’s cause of death to generate more emphasis on the supernatural side, I suppose Mark Gatiss is forced into the open, but it runs completely contrary to the spirit of a story transplanted back into the 1930s.

Julian Rhind-Tutt sporting some big hair

As to the cast, it’s always good to see Zoë Wanamaker, this time returning as Ariadne Oliver. There’s a timeless and effortless quality to her acting and, although she’s left somewhat in the background here, she has some nice moments with David Suchet as Hercule Poirot. There’s a nice cameo from Timothy West, Julian Rhind-Tutt is eminently watchable despite all the hair, and Deborah Findlay is one of these stately-as-a-galleon matriarchs who runs a tight ship of a household despite the presence of two unprepossessing children gratuitously introduced by Mark Gatiss.

So, Hallowe’en Party is quite a pleasing version of a novel that came towards the end of Agatha Christie’s writing career, i.e. it sags a bit in the middle. The core mystery is fairly obvious from quite an early stage, but there’s some nice misdirection as to who’s responsible for the deaths. David Suchet shows no sign of slowing down although his feet hurt a little during the filming. There are only a few more of the Christie canon left to adapt. Roll on 2012.

For reviews of other Agatha Christie stories and novels, see:

Categories: TV and anime Tags: Agatha Christie, Agatha Christie’s Poirot: Halloween Party, Charles Palmer, David Suchet, Deborah Findlay, detective fiction, Halloween Party, Hercule Poirot, Julian Rhind-Tutt, Mark Gatiss, Zoë Wanamaker

Agatha Christie’s Poirot: The Clocks (2009)

January 2, 2012 David Marshall Leave a comment

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Sometimes, we forget how old these stories are. In this case, we have a book, The Clocks, first published in 1963 but, for these purposes, it’s relocated even further in the past. We start off in the tunnels under the White Cliffs of Dover, supposedly a secret headquarters for Naval Intelligence just before the outbreak of what will become World War II. An agent of the Nazi government has infiltrated the tunnels and, with the security so lax, an entire army of spies could have wandered in and rifled through all the secret plans, she steals the disposition of mines throughout the English Channel. This cannot be a complete secret because every ship sailing through the Channel must know which areas to avoid, particularly if they wish to enter one of the ports. But I suppose it’s always useful to German High Command to have certainty. For these purposes, we’re to assume the British would not simply move the fields once they realised the plans had been stolen. Perhaps that’s more easily said than done. Who knows?

Geoffrey Palmer and David Suchet not at sea in Dover

Anyway, the spy is observed in the act by another secretary, but her telephoned warning to the security section — a call taken by her lover, Lt. Colin Race (Tom Burke), who’s too busy playing cards to listen to her — is ignored. That forces our conscientious Brit to follow the spy. Both are killed in a car accident. Before she dies, our heroine writes a cryptic note which is presumed to be a reference to the address where the spy handed over the plans. When our negligent Lt. Race somewhat surprisingly escapes punishment and is surveying one of the possible addresses, he has the mixed fortune to collide with Sheila Webb (Jaime Winstone) who’s running out of a house having just discovered a dead body.

Tom Burke having lost one girl, quickly finds another

As a matter of historical record, the tunnels under Dover Castle were built in the early 1800s but were not adopted into use as a military command centre until 1940. Nevertheless, it’s a nice touch to start a spy story off there. The threat of a fifth column was very real and there was a strong counter-espionage operation in the Neville Chamberlain years before and after the Munich conference. The opening sequence in the tunnels and in the streets outside is nicely filmed as is the set-up with Sheila Webb, sent to the house by her typing agency. At this point we depart slightly from the novel. Over the years, a number of detective have either boasted of their ability to solve crimes without ever rising from their seats, or have only appeared in the real world through their assistants (e.g. Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe never leaves West Thirty-Fifth Street unless there’s a personal crisis). In this novel, the great Hercule Poirot is challenged to solve the murder case from the statements and other written evidence. In this adaptation, our young Lieutenant persuades Poirot to spend a day or two in Dover, ostensibly helping out Naval Intelligence which is convinced the murder and the disappearance of the plans are connected. This change in structure does make the story slightly easier to follow. It also allows the director to introduce one or two jokes at the expense of Poirot who, slightly more than usual, finds himself culturally at odds with the local Inspector Hardcastle (Phil Daniels).

Jaime Winstone as the chief murder suspect

I confess to finding both the original novel and this adaptation slightly less than the usual Agatha Christie standard. The hook is provided by the titular clocks. The question we are supposed to ask is why a young lady should so obviously arrange for herself to go to a house where she would not only kill a man, but also leave a number of clocks, all of which might suggest she was guilty. As an aside, the murder scene was the home of Miss Pebmarsh who’s played with remarkable power by Anna Massey. It was a sad loss when she died early in 2011. Her contribution to British acting for more than fifty years has been significant. Back to the plot, we also have the very tired ploy of the witness who realises something important but is killed before she can persuade the police to listen. Worse, in this adaptation, we even have the police shadowing another potential witness, only to lose sight and then find a third body. However you look at it, the police don’t come out of this story looking good. Indeed, they are shown as more than usually incompetent.

Anna Massey — still one of the best actresses, even close to the end

All this leaves us with David Suchet holding the leaky ship together. He’s his usual watchable self as Hercule Poirot. Indeed, after all these years, it’s hard to remember all the other talented actors who have tried their hands at the great detective. The director, Charles Palmer, and scriptwriter Stewart Harcourt, do their best to distract us with a mad cat lady and other eccentric neighbours around the first murder scene. The typing agency is quite nicely observed with the typists’ fascination for the awfulness of the novels they have to transcribe. Indeed, everyone does their best, sometimes melodramatically so, to get us through to the ending when the identity of the killer(s) is/are revealed and the secret plans are recovered. All Britain can sleep more safely in their beds, except for Sheila Webb and and the young Lieutenant, of course. Their meeting on the groyne on Dover beach would undoubtedly lead to less sleep for them. So, overall, Agatha Christie’s Poirot: The Clocks (2009) is a well-made episode with excellent production values and a good use of locations in Dover, but it’s a less than convincing mystery thanks to a relatively weak original plot. At least we should be grateful the production company has resisted the temptation to “improve” the original.

For reviews of other Agatha Christie stories and novels, see:

Categories: TV and anime Tags: Agatha Christie, Agatha Christie’s Poirot: The Clocks, Anna Massey, Charles Palmer, David Suchet, detective fiction, Hercule Poirot, Jaime Winstone, Phil Daniels, The Clocks, Tom Burke

Agatha Christie’s Poirot: Three Act Tragedy (2011)

December 24, 2011 David Marshall Leave a comment

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Three Act Tragedy (2011) is one of Agatha Christie’s earlier books and this adaptation is reasonably faithful to both the plot and the period, it being set in the 1930s with an interesting set of characters, some of whom are sufficiently wealthy to slum it in art deco style houses on cliff tops when not routinely dining at the Ritz or in Monte Carlo, while others put on appearances and trawl the social world in the hope of finding enough customers to stave off bankruptcy. It’s all wonderfully superficial as the cast zoom down to Cornwall or up to Yorkshire via their London pied-à-terres. The director, Ashley Pearce, also nicely plays with the mis en scène, shifting between the pleasing opening framing shots to create iconic images of 1930’s life, both “real” and theatrical, the stylised coroner’s court, and the sometimes beautiful interiors. The overall look and feel is right, reinforcing the rather luxurious world in which Hercule Poirot (David Suchet) and others of his class move so comfortably. In this context, it’s fascinating to watch Poirot breach protocol when talking with those in service. If he’s to extract useful information from them, he must be reassuring and, for example, encourage a maid to be more open and honest than she might otherwise be. Servants had to be invisible and so were often able to observe embarrassing or illuminating facts about their masters and mistresses. They would not hold on to their positions very long if they were too quick to gossip. I suppose Poirot gets away with it because he’s “foreign” and so inherently less intimidating than the British upper and upper-middle classes.

Sir Charles Cartwright (Martin Shaw) at home with his telescope

At the other end of the scale come the redoubtable Sir Charles Cartwright (Martin Shaw), a retired actor in the grand style and his life-long friend from university, Dr Bartholomew Strange (Art Malik). These are men of high social visibility and personal wealth so, in terms of casting, it’s very pleasing to see Art Malik in the role of an eminent psychologist with a major estate in Yorkshire and a purpose-built “treatment centre” in the grounds. He has restored the house and now is a respected local employer. The loose cannon floating through this world is the playwright, Miss Mills (Kate Ashfield). She’s nicely picked out from the crowd as a slightly eccentric and solitary observer of the world. Never really mixing, she would rather eavesdrop and accumulate details for her next play set in this artificial bubble of a world.

David Suchet consults Kate Ashield, the very observant playwright

Although some other Christies do move around a little, this novel not only has Poirot and others charging across the English landscape courtesy of the railway service, there must also be a scene in Monte Carlo. This creates a slightly rushed feel, particularly as our detective must actually do the PI thing, stake-out a person of interest and then use the traditional, “follow that cab” line as if it was new. It’s always good to see our consulting detective get into the practicality of investigation rather than merely sitting in a room and allowing his little grey cells the chance to shine.

Reverend Babbington (Nigel Pegram) gets ready to sample his drink

As to the mystery itself, it offers a pleasing case for Poirot to investigate. Indeed, in a way, it comes as almost a personal challenge to see through the necessary deceptions to arrive at the truth. However, the reveal is rather more staged than usual. One of the critical problems for any detective working outside the formal police force is the acquisition of sufficient evidence to guarantee a conviction. Having a gathering of all the suspects and then working through to a reasoned conclusion is one of the ways in which the problem can be overcome. Superintendent Crossfield (Tony Maudsley) literally lurking in the wings of the theatre in the hope of a confession is potentially good. Except Poirot and the Superintendent already have more than enough evidence to arrest the suspect before everyone arrives at the theatre. More importantly, Poirot goes out of his way to protect one potential witness but there’s another person probably more at risk, i.e. the one protected may know whodunnit but the other has certain knowledge. Although it’s not a major defect, it does make the ending less satisfying than it might otherwise have been. Overall, this is one of the better adaptations with David Suchet allowed to engage in a little self-parody at times and make us smile.

As a final thought, I offer a note of clarification. If we travel back eighty and more years, it was necessary to prove fault in order to obtain a divorce. It’s fairly obvious if one spouse commits adultery or deserts the other, this is a form of matrimonial “offence” and will justify a court finding that spouse at fault. But, if the spouse is insane, he or she has no ability to form any intention of wrongdoing. Finding fault in such cases is therefore more difficult. Today, we have no-fault divorce and a decree is granted if the marriage has irretrievably broken down. This avoids the problem where one spouse lacks mental capacity.

For reviews of other Agatha Christie stories and novels, see:

Categories: TV and anime Tags: Agatha Christie, Art Malik, Ashley Pearce, David Suchet, detective fiction, Hercule Poirot, Kate Ashfield, Martin Shaw, Three Act Tragedy

Agatha Christie’s Poirot: Murder on the Orient Express (2010)

December 18, 2011 David Marshall 6 comments

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Murder on the Orient Express (2010) is a joint production of ITV Studios and WGBH Boston staring David Suchet as Hercule Poirot. As an adaptation of the original novel by Agatha Christie, this is an interesting attempt to reframe the story as a moral dilemma. It begins with Poirot conducting an investigation in Palestine which is abruptly concluded by the suicide of a man whom he was accusing of involvement in a murder. Regardless whether he was correct in his accusation, the immediacy of the man’s response to snatch up a gun, his blood splattering over Poirot, left Poirot with the sense he did not handle the entire affair well. When we get to Istanbul, a further street scene is added to the plot as he watches an angry crowd stone an adulteress. As viewers, we’re supposed to make a judgement about the act of retribution on behalf of the wronged husband. In this Turkish culture, stoning is the accepted form of punishment but we’re expected to condemn it as barbaric. We’re supposed to be predisposed to condemn vigilanteism by a crowd regardless of the perceived provocation.

David Suchet who has made the role of Hercule Poirot his own

There’s quite a heavy religious element running through this adaptation with Poirot shown praying and saying the rosary as a good Catholic should, except. . . Although Poirot almost certainly was a Catholic — most Belgians of that time would have been — there’s no real sign of religiosity in the particular book or, more generally, in the series as written by Agatha Christie. This is one episode of a long-running series of television adaptations and, although it’s an effective element in this one episode, it does rather skew the normal characterisation of the man. In the book, Poirot is a man of compassion who, while he does not approve the murder, agrees to allow the murderer(s) to go free. This version does not feel quite right.

If Poirot is inflexibly moralistic and we apply the tenets of the religion at that time, why should he decide to look the other way? The murderer(s) have paid their victim the compliment of imitation. Indeed, their premeditation probably makes them even less sympathetic than their victim unless we’re to assume the kidnapper always intended to kill the girl he abducted. A Catholic of that period would have been self-righteous and lack the will to lie to the police. The idea Poirot would cover up the crime and then walk away praying the rosary in the hope it would somehow wash away his sin is somewhat extraordinary. If the adaptation does offer a reason for this decision, we should consider Poirot’s refusal to act as the man’s bodyguard. He has seen the man in the hotel and observed him on the train. Regardless whether he recognises him as Cassetti, Poirot turns down the offer of a large sum to protect him. So, by omission, Poirot has some responsibility for the man’s death. He could have saved him but, as in the parable of the Good Samaritan, chose to walk on the other side. Looking at the adaptations still to come to the small screen, this characterisation of Poirot could foreshadow Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case. This more intense Catholicism and sense of guilt would fit more comfortably into the final mystery where much of the man’s narcissistic pride has evaporated and the little grey cells have lost some of their certainty.

David Suchet and the crowd

In this respect, it’s interesting to compare Poirot with Jacques Futrelle’s creation Professor Augustus S. F. X. Van Dusen. As a detective, this man aspires to being a “calculating machine”. There’s no light or dark in his scientific approach to solving problems. He enjoys the challenge and leaves it to the world to deal with the morally grey areas in ascribing degrees of blameworthiness to the criminals. In most of his cases, Poirot is similarly free of moral doubts. He hands his solutions over to the police and courts, and rarely seems troubled by the human consequences of his work. This makes this adaptation somewhat heavy-handed. For example, at least one of the murders asserts the Lord was on her side. If this was believed real, the detective must step aside to allow divine retribution to prevail. In this battle between scientific methods of detection and religion, Sherlock Holmes is more clearly willing to work outside the law and exercise a personal judgement for mercy. Only once, in “Speckled Band”, does he flirt with the idea of taking the law into his own hands and dispatching the criminal. For all his trappings of science, Holmes remains a man rooted in the culture of his time. He’s more inclined to see the potential for destructiveness if pure science prevails over morality. It requires immense arrogance on the part of scientists or detectives using scientific methods, to assert only they can lead humanity to a new life of happiness.

Toby Jones as Cassetti after meeting the crowd

Returning to this television adaptation and looking past the attempt to convert a murder mystery into a modern morality tale, we do find a nicely claustrophobic production. There’s been a very real attempt to put the characters on top of each other in the different compartments with little room to swing a small proverbial cat. Even the dining car feels narrow and cramped with everyone huddling together. This is reinforced by limited lighting with shadows cast into the hollows of eyes and sunken cheeks as sleep comes hard and the cold creeps in from the snow drifts outside. Curiously, the cast is not asked to do much. They are shuffled around and, when asked, offer the usual evasions. I suppose the point is to leave them as faceless as the crowd who stoned the adulteress. Only Toby Jones as Cassetti is allowed enough time to establish himself as thoroughly unlikeable.

So, overall, Murder on the Orient Express is an interesting effort. It seems to have offended the Christie purists but there’s nothing inherently wrong with an adaptation that challenges conventional wisdom. For me, it’s a moderately successful version of a classic detective story.

For reviews of other Agatha Christie stories and novels, see:

Categories: TV and anime Tags: Agatha Christie, David Suchet, detective fiction, Hercule Poirot, Murder on the Orient Express, Toby Jones

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Agatha Christie’s Poirot: The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb (1993)

Agatha Christie’s Poirot: Hallowe’en Party (2010)

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