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Reviews
Hart to Hart: Harts on Campus (1982)
Drop the gum!
I'm not quite as keen on this outing as the preceding reviewers have been. For one, that gum-chewing. Aaargh! The makers of this episode very obviously adhere to the school of thinking that having a character constantly, exaggeratedly and loudly chewing gum is a quick and easy way to give them a personality. It's not! It's excruciating for the viewer to have to put up with for a whole 45 minutes.
But my main bone of contention is based on my perception that the story is all heading towards Jennifer being the one to save the day for once. Even after three quarters of the episode have gone by, Jonathan is still under Formerly Obese Evil Gum-Chewer's spell and it seems like Jennifer will have to work out what's going on and come to his rescue. But, of course, the old sexist mindset won't be beaten. So we end up with a stereotypical 70s/80s ending, with Jonathon's strength of will enabling him to somehow overcome his hypnosis and swoop in to rescue about-to-be-raped Jennifer just in the nick of time.
So, the plot has been all set up for a climax which would be a refreshing change from the usual formula but, in the end, it chickens out and we wind up with the same old, same old. Disappointing.
Kojak: Dead on His Feet (1974)
Seeing Double
This episode has a basic premise that is weirdly similar to an episode of The Streets of San Francisco which aired only four months earlier. That episode has the title "Before I Die." Seeing a resemblance already?
In that one, Leslie Nielsen plays a cop with only a short time to live who obsessively goes after a bad guy and will do anything it takes to get him. And guess what - Joanne Linville plays the romantic interest there as well! IMDB says the two episodes had completely different sets of writers, but I can't believe that it's all just coincidence...
To be honest, I have to say that I prefer the San Fran version of the story. Harry Guardino's good here, but come on - that's Leslie frickin' Nielsen! Also, Fiore's hero worship of his colleague, Ryan, is overdone and comes across as pretty creepy. Especially since, in his short time onscreen, Ryan doesn't seem particularly likeable or worthy of adoration. Even Kojak didn't actually want him in the department. The fact that Fiore is clearly the older of the two partners by a significant margin makes it even less credible. It would have been better had the roles been reversed.
Finally, it's hard to really empathize with Ellen Ryan, whose husband has just been killed but who appears more concerned about the fate of Fiore, with whom she seems to have been in love for years. Her character in TSoSF was more uncomplicatedly sympathetic.
Absolutely not a bad episode. In fact, a good episode despite some unbelievability at the end (the other restaurant patrons will testify that Fiore was the one who suddenly became violently aggressive, backing up the baddie's defence that he was set up.) But, for me, it suffers in comparison to the Nielsen version, which is still fresh in my mind as I watched it only a few months ago.
Hart to Hart: This Lady Is Murder (1980)
Jennifer, remember when I said there's no one as beautiful as you?...
I remember watching Hart to Hart as a kid back in the early 80s, but it's so long ago that I remember no individual plots. Rewatching it now, I realise that I've always underrated Stefanie Powers' acting ability, even in other projects I've seen her in since. In every scene, she never stops using subtle changes of expression to convey Jennifer's emotions vis-à-vis whatever is happening at the moment. Sounds like Acting 101, I know, but it's a lot more than a lot of other actors/actresses in fluffy shows such as this are able or are willing to do. To be brutally honest, I don't think I've yet seen Wagner try that hard in this series.
In this episode, Powers gets a dual role: Jennifer, of course, and her doppelganger. Dominique. She does it brilliantly. Jennifer is her usual bubbly, spunky, lovable self. Dominique is a calculating, unshakeable, aloof ice queen. Powers plays them both so well that we are never in any doubt which one of the two we are seeing at any time.
One might wonder how it's possible that absolutely no one has ever noticed that very famous billionaire's wife Jennifer Hart has an exact double who, moreover, is herself also part of Los Angeles' high society. That celebrity reporter can't be very good at her job to have missed that! But hey, it's Hart to Hart. Unrealistic, good, clean fun. If you can accept Max's dye job and Casanova-style love life, you can accept almost anything else they throw at you.
Shout out to Andrew Robinson as the gentle-hearted second kidnapper. Just yesterday, I saw him in an episode of The Streets of San Francisco from 5-6 years prior. Before, I only remembered him from the earlier Dirty Harry and the much later Deep Space 9. From those, I was convinced that he was afflicted in real life with crazy, wild, psycho eyes. But in San Fran and H2H, it's obvious that he actually has very normal and nice eyes. I'm glad to learn that the guy hasn't had to go through his entire life looking like a complete nutjob whose peepers would scare any passing old ladies half to death!
The Inspector Lynley Mysteries: Know Thine Enemy (2007)
Farewell, my Lynley
I never warmed much to this series. The main problem is the lead character himself - an unlikeable tosspot who's seemingly convinced of his own supremacy and infallibility, while considering everyone around him to be morons.
The show is so formulaically written that it's become easy, in the last few seasons, to guess who the murderer is almost as soon as they're introduced. This episode sidesteps that problem by revealing the identity of the guilty couple early on. What's at issue is the true extent of the wife's cooperation. Having already repeatedly watched the Law & Order episode based on the same real-life case, the result is no surprise to me. But that obviously can't be blamed on the writers.
But the episode does have Lynley doing his usual thing of shouting a lot at people, in particular Havers. Especially in the latter seasons, when he's not barking or outright yelling at her, he's rubbishing her ideas or making snide little digs. It's a weird way to write your hero. And it's a weird way to write a supposedly strong-willed, experienced detective sergeant that she never stands up for herself and demands to be treated with basic decency and courtesy, senior officer or no senior officer.
One last thing: what's the point in making Lynley an earl if it has no bearing on anything? I haven't read the source books, where things may be different, but in the TV series his title is relevant only in that it's mentioned from time to time and his family has a large estate that we visit twice. Really, he could just be a commoner from a rich family and it would make essentially no difference at all to the stories. It seems strange to have a premise as far out there as your lead detective being a member of the Peerage and then not use it in any meaningful way. Just as examples, more investigations involving noble families, or Lynley socializing with his peers (pun intended) would have made the series more interesting and helped it stand out in a crowded genre where so many shows so closely resemble each other.
The Inspector Lynley Mysteries: In the Blink of an Eye (2006)
The ghosts of war
After the Bosnian War has been mentioned, as soon as we then meet a man who sounds like he's from that region, it's obvious he's the murderer. To be fair, though, I must have seen the same thing in at least a dozen police shows from various Western European countries in the 2000s: the murderer turns out to be a seemingly benign immigrant killing people who know about the atrocities he committed during the conflict.
The other big news is Helen's death. Really, I expected her to end up changing her mind again and divorcing Lynley. But they found a much more tragic way for him to lose her. It is extremely stupid of her to place herself between a traumatised woman with a gun and the man who killed her entire family. That's the kind of thing that main characters can get away with. When secondary characters do it, chances are high they'll be leaving in a body bag.
Having piled misery upon misery first of all on Havers and then on Lynley, George/the scriptwriters will hopefully give us a final season where there are no more personal tragedies for either of them to endure.
The Inspector Lynley Mysteries: If Wishes Were Horses (2004)
Men behaving badly
Terrible and unbelievable. Firstly, the idea that Lynley would be allowed to continue on an investigation after his wife is attacked AND it's found out that she previously had a relationship with the victim is beyond absurd. But, at least in this episode, he seems to have no superiors to tell what he can and cannot do.
His behaviour towards Havers is all kinds of unacceptable, no matter what his personal pain (another reason why he shouldn't even be allowed to work at all right now, let alone be on this case.) A real-life police officer treating a colleague this way would certainly find themselves before a disciplinary panel and might consider themselves lucky if they kept their job. But Havers is written to just take all his crap, even act as if it's her who's in the wrong.
That principle carries on into the case itself, where we have the unedifying spectacle of a woman blubbering about how much she loved the serial cheater, abusive husband who'd sent her to hospital numerous times over the years and how he hadn't beaten her for months. This right after we've heard the doctor say precisely that he could go for months without hitting her but that there would always be something to set him off again.
Just in terms of the plot, it's clear way before the end who the murderer is. Can anybody really not be asking themselves at a certain point just why this gynaecologist is everywhere we look, seems to be involved in all aspects of the case and even takes part in discussions between the police team? Why would they discuss case details in the presence of a civilian anyway, especially one who's a potential suspect?
To top it all off, the final "shock" sequence in which Havers is shot is so badly stylised and edited - presumably to avoid it being too violent - that it loses all intended impact. It looks more like something from a children's programme or a pop video. Anyway, it's not like anyone seriously doubts that Havers will return next season. With Lynley becoming ever more unlikeable and his relationship with the fickle and sullen Helen being a constant bore, she's the highlight of the show.
The Streets of San Francisco: Trail of Terror (1975)
The Meg!
There are two main schools of thought concerning Meg Foster. The religious one states that her eyes are a gateway to hell and anybody who looks directly into them for too long is condemned to eternal damnation. The scientific one says that they came into existence simultaneously with the Big Bang and are intrinsically linked to the very existence of the Universe. Well, I'm a man of science, and I have been since I saw Foster in Masters of the Universe in my puberty. (Stop laughing! A lot of people worked quite hard to make that film.)
Here, Meg plays a gangster's moll whom the writers can't decide if she's slightly mentally challenged, childish, naive, or just plain stupid for the first half of the episode. Then we go all Tony Curtis-Sidney Poitier; she she gets chained up to Micky D and shows a set of balls big enough to overwhelm even the typically over-the-top James Woods. (Fun fact: I don't know about his balls, but the lovely, not-quite-as-innocent-as-I-thought actress Dana Delaney describes Woods' wood as being "literally a foot long.")
Other interesting characters are involved in the episode, including a surprisingly likeable, honest and competent local sheriff (can you believe it?!), a sensible black baddie who decides to split just a bit too late, and a loyal brother who won't abandon his sibling even in the worst of times and ends up going down with him.
But in the end, it's all about our... no, MY Meg, who rescues Kirk's little boy from all the villains, bullets, trees and mud so that he and his distressing sideburns can continue the war against crime. Oh, Margaret, if only we'd been born about 30 years closer. Maybe in the next universe...
The Streets of San Francisco: School of Fear (1975)
School of hard profs
[Disclaimer: Character descriptions kept basic for ease of writing - no offence whatsoever intended towards anyone.]
As already mentioned by another reviewer, a highly improbable storyline. But the shifting dynamics between the stereotypically assorted "classmates" and their captor keep this episode interesting.
At first, only the black guy is willing to go along with the kidnapper and learn his prescribed lessons. Then the white guy. Eventually, the reluctant girl also starts to study. The Latino guy holds out all the way.
But when the girl's dad bursts in and she tries to get him to kill the kidnapper by accusing him of touching her, all the guys are instantly outraged and yell that she's lying and to not hurt the professor.
In the end, the black guy goes back to school, the white guy is about to do the same, and the Latino guy is undecided. The girl has left.
I have no idea whether or not the scriptwriters are trying to convey any sort of race/gender/class/age message here. Maybe that sweet, innocent-looking girls can actually turn out to be as dangerous as any man? I don't know.
In any case, I have to admit to enjoying this episode, with its very unbelievable premise, a lot more than I would have thought.
The Inspector Lynley Mysteries: A Suitable Vengeance (2003)
Do as I say, not as I do
At one point in this episode, Havers accuses Lynley of telling someone to do one thing while he himself is doing the exact opposite - and she's absolutely right. This isn't the correct, egalitarian Lynley that we've come to know. As soon as his family is involved, he tosses away all his lofty ideals and respect for police procedure and, worse, pulls rank to force Havers to go along with his actions when she most clearly doesn't want to.
This is a standard "humanisation" trope of police series, to show that even a good officer can act differently when their own loved ones are are in the frame. The idea certainly isn't unrealistic, which is precisely why officers in real life aren't allowed anywhere near cases involving family or friends. But if taken too far, like here, the characters end up looking like total hypocrites who believe that the principles they espouse don't apply to them. Lynley's double standards actually lead to a final, avoidable death which can only occur because he affords a family friend special treatment, again over Havers' objections.
It won't be easy to not recall this episode the next time Lynley is indignantly berating someone for abetting a relative, or taking a colleague to task for not following the code of conduct. That's the problem with stories like this. The sudden loss of integrity tarnishes the hero's brand for the future.
The Streets of San Francisco: Labyrinth (1975)
Stupid is as stupid does
What a shame, coming after a great preceding episode (Asylum.) It's all going so well for most of the story. It's been fairly tight, intense and interesting. Then we get to the final ten minutes and everything dissolves into a mish-mash of clichés and idiotic actions in order to get the story wrapped up.
Of course, there has to be a presumably blind and deaf civilian who hasn't noticed that there's something big going down around them and strolls unawares within reaching distance of Bad Guy just as he's been caught and is about to be cuffed and carted off to jail.
Having grabbed hold of the idiot civilian, Bad Guy demands that the three (three!) cops surrounding him surrender their weapons, and, of course, they all immediately comply. Moreover, the cop who'd caught Bad Guy most obligingly offers up not only his own gun, but also the gun that he took off Bad Guy and had tucked away out of sight, without even having to be reminded.
So, Bad Guy now has rickety old grandpa as a hostage, four fully-loaded revolvers at his feet, and three entirely defenceless detectives before him. What can he possibly do or not do to ensure that the episode ends in the right way within the next five minutes?
For a start, he can choose to pick up only two of the guns. He could grab them all and tuck the ones he doesn't need into his waistband. But no, he just leaves the other two. And he can avoid doing anything to stop the cops from following him or to slow them down, like cuffing them or ordering them to go back down the corridor.
And he can agree to swap out frail, harmless Pop-Pops for one of the officers so that when he heads for the roof he has a more able and dangerous hostage to control. He can also actually kick one of the pistols he's leaving behind towards one of the officers.
In a truly shocking twist, the policeman hostage dives out of the way at the crucial moment, allowing his re-armed colleagues to shoot Bad Guy. Result: The police win by being marginally less knuckleheaded than the criminals.
Marple: Murder Is Easy (2008)
And then there were none
... well, there would have been if this episode had gone on for another half hour! Sweet, sociopathic, little Honoria was dispatching the inhabitants of Wychwood as if she were the fourth horseman of the Apocalypse. Having gone in expecting the customary two or three kills, I was very pleasantly surprised to come across a murderer with genuine genocidal aspirations. Seven victims! I think she must have been tried before the International Criminal Court.
I haven't read the book, so I can't comment on changes from it. But I do agree about some dodgy elements pointed out by other reviewers. For one, Honoria being able to blatantly shove Lavinia down a busy escalator (of course, Lavinia rolled all the way to the bottom, without being stopped by all the legs in the way!) and then just walk off right past the body without being noticed by anyone was highly implausible.
Also, were we really to believe that, with the village's population rapidly heading towards zero (see what I did there?) the police investigation would be left entirely in the hands of a single, university-age-looking junior officer, aided by a not-much-older ex-policeman with only five years experience - in Malaysia - and a little old lady?
Those quibbles aside, I did honestly love this story. The high body count meant that things were always happening and we never had chance to get bored. I was kept busy guessing who was next in line to meet their maker as much as trying to figure out who the killer could be.
An added bonus: because of the greater amount of time necessarily dedicated to so many deaths, we got a mercifully short and simple romantic subplot, rather than yet another of the mind-numbingly predictable and boring love triangles which took up far too much space in the majority of Marple episodes. "Make war, not love" - that's the motto of a good murder mystery.
The Streets of San Francisco: Asylum (1975)
Silence is golden
This episode is made great by Belinda Montgomery. In the last couple of years, I've been going through a lot of detective, thriller, horror - in short, manly - stuff from the 70s and 80s and I've now seen her in a lot of TV series and quite a few films (you horror fans out there, check out Silent Madness from 1984, in which she's the lead; it's schlock, as you would expect, but still well worth a look.)
Here, she plays a patient in a psychiatric institute who becomes an unwitting participant in the case of the week. She's more or less the focal point of Stone and Keller's investigation. The thing is - and get this, talkers - she never utters a single word. If the reason is given, I've obviously missed it; I just know that she doesn't speak at all. The success of the whole episode depends on the mixture of innocence, fragility, beauty and fear she can portray at any point, how much emotion she can convey through her facial expressions.
And she pulls it off effortlessly. She plays the role so brilliantly that all you want to do is jump into a time machine, go back to the mid-70s, rescue her and make her listen to some decent music. "And then?" I hear you eagerly cry in unison. Well, what happens next is the lady's choice, of course.
A fantastic episode. Malden and Douglas have had the cop camaraderie down pat from the beginning. The stories are well written and there's never a shortage of familiar, very capable guest stars to give each episode an extra boost. But this is my favourite so far, anchored by a terrific central performance from the belle Bel'.
Okay, enough of this jibber-jabber. My Ikea delivery's just arrived and I've got a time machine to assemble. See you earlier, suckers!
Marple: Sleeping Murder (2006)
Dickie Galore
Sleeping murder is a so-so episode. It has a hubba-licious lead guest in Sophia Myles (even if her character is pretty irritating) and an awesome final twist, but a rather plodding and unengaging plot which risks losing your attention at more than one point before the finale.
As always, there's a veritable cornucopia of well-known British screen faces making up the cast list so you can go, "Ooh, it's him! And her! And him! And her!" But the actors in these shows are always largely small-screen pros who are seasoned enough to know how to do their best with whatever they're given in an easy-viewing drama, so I generally have no complaints of stunt casting.
There are two instances here, however, where I feel the casting choices are abysmal. The first is having Dawn French playing a man magnet whose milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. No offence intended, but while I variably may or may not be capable of sufficient suspension of disbelief to accept the wildly convoluted murder schemes in these series, no amount of goodwill can make me buy the notion of Dawn French being lusted after by Paul McGann, Peter Serafinowicz AND Martin Kemp. I'm sure they'd say that we're supposed to take it all with a pinch of humour but, to me, this is just the production team publicly declaring, "Hey, look how open-minded and unprejudiced we are, casting such a large woman as an irresistible sex object," while, in reality, inviting viewers to have a good laugh at the very idea. It's the old trick of using obesity as a source of amusement while accusing any critics of fat shaming. Not that I think French is an unknowing victim. This is what her whole career was built on.
The second - even worse, from a story point of view - poor decision is Phil Davis. Why put the the one sinister-looking actor of the whole cast in the role which eventually turns out to be that of the twisted murderer? Again, no offence to Davis (a genuinely talented actor) but he instantly sticks out like a sore thumb amongst all the sweet, jolly, pretty faces around him. He might as well have "GUILTY!!!" stamped on his forehead. In fact, he's so obviously the bad guy from the first moment we meet him that you end up half thinking he might be the biggest red herring and could turn out to be innocent. But only half. And he doesn't. The only surprise is that he's even worse than you thought. I don't understand why the makers of a crime mystery show would accept a piece of casting that gives away (okay, at least gives rise to strong suspicions about) the killer's identity as soon as we lay eyes on them.
Poirot: The Labours of Hercules (2013)
Well, since my baby left me, well, I found a new bench to dwell
The Labours of Hercules is by far my favourite of the season 13 episodes. That it turns out so well came as a bit of a surprise to me, because the beginning is frankly less than promising, full of ridiculous contrivances to get the story going.
For a start, how can Poirot be stupid enough to introduce the young lady with the diamonds to her "undercover" personal protection officer the way he does, where anybody around might hear? How can this officer then be dumb enough to demonstrate the secret signal in public for the whole world to see? The idea of Poirot trekking to Switzerland just like that to look for his lovesick chauffeur's lost fling is laughable. It's not like she was kidnapped or in some kind of trouble. She left of her own free will. Get over it, you weird, pathetic crybaby. Finally, Marrascaud just happening to arrive at the very same hotel and at the very same time as Poirot is surely overtaxing the notion of coincidence.
But once in the hotel, things certainly get a whole lot better. The confined setting gives the story a mood of intimacy. The main mystery and the subplots are intriguing. The various characters and their interactions are a lot of fun. I was especially glad to see Tom Wlaschiha, who's always worth watching, whether it be in international productions or those from his native Germany. Countess Rossakoff is back. I didn't particularly like her last time, but now that she's portrayed by the beautiful Orla Brady, I suddenly appreciate her much more. Even better, she's brought along her delectable daughter, Alice. What a babe! And you know what they say; when she's good, she's good... She can come and give the secret knock on my door anytime. I'm willing to take the risk.
I have to admit to being happy to see a couple of characters call Poirot out on his conceit and arrogance. The little guy's limitless self-esteem, especially in the later seasons, can be extremely annoying. What happened to becoming the humblest person in the world, Hercule? Something else you failed at.
Poirot: The Clocks (2009)
We shall fight on the beaches... just as soon as we've finished this round
The Clocks is a good production featuring a case which at first stumps Poirot. As we find out at the end, he has been, in fact, working on two separate, only tangentially connected cases at once, which explains why he's had such a hard time of it. Needless to say, the plot is packed pretty thick here. It's not the best episode to watch distractedly while on your phone, or cooking, or recreating the Venus de Milo using matchsticks. You need to pay attention, Bond, but it's rewarding.
There's one aspect of the episode that I have a problem with - I detested the very important character of Lt. Race from his first scene onwards. Clearly, we're supposed to take to him and see him as a dashing hero. But this is a naval and intelligence officer who, in the opening, ignores his girlfriend's pleas to come do his job of protecting vital defence documents because his card game is more important to him. The documents are stolen and his girlfriend dies trying to do what he should have done. Some hero!
But since we just have to have a flipping romance to keep the frustrated housewives watching happy, grief and guilt don't hit the rat Race too hard, and he and Sheila are making googly eyes at each other almost as soon as they meet. Instead of facing a court martial and years in prison, he ends up riding into the sunset with his new love, just days after his wilful dereliction of duty got the last one killed! Oh, the injustice.
Poirot: Appointment with Death (2008)
Big Bad Mama
Definitely not as good as I expected it to be after seeing the cast list and the setting. I saw the Ustinov version a few months ago and I have to say that I enjoyed that a lot more. A whole plethora of problems with the script have already been expressed by other reviewers, so I'll restrict myself to citing just a few of those that I see.
I know they're not explicit, but the child abuse scenes are still pretty distressing and really only need to be shown once or twice. Repeating them over and over is too much. I've read that in the book there's a quite credible explanation for Lady Boynton's domineering manner: she's an ex-prison warden whose professional habits caused her to treat her own children like prisoners, ruling them with an iron rod. But in this adaptation we have no explanation at all as to why she had them constantly physically abused throughout their childhoods. Unless you can accept "because we're adopted" as a reason. And that ancient, cadaverous nanny being the one to actually carry out the abuse really isn't a believable sight in the flashbacks. Also, why would anyone be hauling along a person in her semi-zombified state to a dig in a far-off, sweltering land?
In fact, as another reviewer asked, why is anyone who isn't a member of the Boynton clan there at all? Did they all just randomly meet in a bar, down a load of shots and then drunkenly decide to descend en masse upon the closest excavation site? Otherwise, why? Is dig-crashing a common pastime in the Middle East? Well, actually, if the lead archaeologist believes he's going to find the skull of John the Baptist(!) maybe everything else seems normal in relation.
The murder plan is ridiculously and needlessly convoluted, being carried out in stages and counting on everyone present at any of those stages to either be looking in the wrong direction at the crucial moment or be totally stupid and inobservant. There were at least a billion other, less risky ways to kill the wicked witch.
Poirot's final summing up and revealing of the murderers seems to get more and more drawn out as these 90-minute episodes progress. His already annoying habits of referring to himself in the third person, taking lengthy... dramatic pauses, seemingly accusing people before then declaring them innocent, and boiling over with indignation at wrongdoing are in full overdrive here. It's one thing for the scriptwriters to want to build suspense. It's another to drag things out so long that viewers start wishing another character would give Poirot a slap and tell him to bloody well get on with it.
Finally, you know the Oscar Wilde quote: "To lose one parent [...] may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness"? Well, Jinny manages to lose three in just a few days. On Wilde's scale, that would probably be considered criminal negligence! But at the end, all the revelations and tragedy surrounding her don't seem to have affected her very much at all. A rosary and a quick sermon from newly-ordained Père Poirot and she's all ready to go traipsing merrily around the pyramids. Ah, the frivolity of youth.
Poirot: Cat Among the Pigeons (2008)
The Adventures of Monsieur H. Poirot in Oestrogenia
I love Cat Among the Pigeons. For me, it's Poirot done right. There's an intriguing mystery - several, in fact. We have a very unique environment for Poirot to move around in, surrounded overwhelmingly by women. The large roster of supporting characters are fleshed out adequately, given the time constraints. Poirot's investigation and conclusions are logical; no wild suppositions or facts that he couldn't possibly know during his summing-up.
The only drawback is that, ironically, sticking to logic makes the culprit's identity obvious well before the end. I remember watching the episode the first time and, in the scene where Mrs Upjohn thinks she recognises somebody, immediately thinking that it must be a recent arrival, otherwise she presumably would have seen them before now. Later, we learn that she was probably referring to a woman. There are only two new female members of staff. When Mlle Blanche (the gorgeous Miranda Raison, so successfully "frumpified" that I didn't realise it was her until I saw her name in the end credits) is killed, it leaves Ms Shapland as the sole possibility. Of course, there's always a chance of the writers pulling something out of their hat at the last moment to confound expectations, but it doesn't happen here.
Strangely enough, though, this didn't really spoil my enjoyment of the episode at all. In fact, I've rewatched it twice now. I guess maybe the pleasure of actually having used my own two little grey cells to identify the killer trumps the lack of surprise in the reveal. But whatever the case may be, congrats to all involved for a job well done.
Poirot: Taken at the Flood (2006)
Don't put words in people's mouths - at least, not these words!
My heading refers to some frankly unbelievable crap that the writers have Lynn Marchmont say to express her love for David Hunter. At one point, she comes out with words to the effect of, "I know we'll never be happy together, but I don't care." Even worse, "Even if he were to beat me, I'd still love him." Come on, now.
I have no idea if this drivel is actually in the book, but even if it is, there's no need to copy it in a show produced in an age where it's just plain offensive. After all, it's clear that the Poirot writers are more than happy to make sometimes huge changes to the source material when they want.
We're obviously supposed to be sympathetic to Lynn because she's Poirot's friend. To me, she just comes across as a complete moron over a man she's known for all of five minutes and whom no self-respecting woman would go near. Her behaviour might not seem so stupid if David were played with any finesse, his character given some nuance. Unfortunately, he's played by Elliot Cowan, an actor who has never knowingly underacted or just acted.
I first saw Cowan in a production of Don Carlos less than a year before this episode was broadcast. Even on the stage, where everything naturally has to be bigger and louder, and among some experienced scenery-chewers, his overacting ensured that he stood out. It's the same here. David is so exaggeratedly E-V-I-L that you're surprised he's not the murder victim (if only) and, consequently, in no way surprised when he turns out to be the murderer. I'm only grateful that dolt Lynn doesn't go ahead and marry him anyway while he's awaiting execution.
Poirot: Cards on the Table (2006)
Getting away with murder
This is an okay episode, nothing special. But there's one thing I can't get my head around. At the end, Mrs Lorrimer, who's confessed to killing her husband (a confession corroborated by her daughter) simply gets to ride off in a taxi!
Do the police not care? Or has Poirot decided to take pity on her and not inform them? I can't see why. There's nothing to mitigate her crime. She killed her husband simply because she wanted to marry another man. She even gets a big hug from the daughter before she leaves. What's that about? "It's okay, mother. I forgive you for murdering daddy so you could shack up with your lover." Uh?
Poirot: Five Little Pigs (2003)
I remember it like it was yesterday...
An okay episode which was easy to watch but didn't really grab me. I think that I kind of tuned out slightly when I realised that it was all going to be about Poirot listening to different people's remarkably accurate accounts (which may, of course, be mistaken or made up) of what happened 14 whole years ago and then somehow coming up with the solution as to what really went down, with no new evidence or witnesses. There's really no excuse for not being the world's greatest detective when you're already the world's greatest psychic. Still, it's something a bit different.
The murder victim is such an odious, self-obsessed little a-hole that it's a pleasure watching knowing he's going to be killed. His lover is the same, so it's a double pleasure when she turns out to be guilty at the end, although it looks like she'll probably get away with it because she's since slept her way to a title. Difficult to see how Poirot's going to get Caroline's conviction quashed if the authorities don't want to implicate Lady Elsa.
Speaking of Elsa, I have to say that she makes for a more unbelievable 18-year-old than even Brandon and co in Beverley Hills, 90210. Couldn't they have found a younger actress to play the character in the flashbacks? Also, getting someone actually more attractive than the wife would have helped, given the storyline.
True to form, the casting department does get it right in dishing us up another atomic blonde, this time in the truly scrumptious form of Aimee Mullins, as Lucy Crane. Phew, what a scorcher!
All in all, a decent enough way to pass the time but not, in my opinion, one of the superior episodes of Poirot.
Poirot: Lord Edgware Dies (2000)
Is this love that I'm feeling?
In one single bound, Poirot goes from the depths of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd to the heights of Lord Edgware Dies.
This really is a great episode, one of my very favourites in the series. The mystery is very clever and engaging, with an unexpected conclusion. The only misstep is the oft-mentioned dinner party, where we're first shown one woman, confirming her innocence to us, then later shown a completely different woman. Play fair, Mr Director.
The cast is superb. No prizes for guessing who my favourite guest star is. As Jane Wilkinson, Helen Grace is a knockout of the Mike Tyson class of knockouts. Indefensibly beautiful, oh so tall, with legs that go on forever, and blonder than blonde. It's no wonder that even Poirot falls under her spell as he stands in her shadow. The fact that she turns out be totally evil, an ice queen entirely bereft of scruples, empathy and remorse, only somehow makes her even sexier. I need help.
Poirot eventually but inevitably arrives at the truth and, as usual, a murderer who thought they were being super clever in hiring him to "prove" their innocence ends up learning the way hard way that it was the worst thing they could have done. A word to the wise: if you're going to commit murder, do not, I repeat, do NOT go and get the world's best detective involved in the matter. It probably won't end well for you.
I was kind of holding out hope that Poirot would decide to let lovely lady Jane go at the very end, as he's already done on several occasions with culprits. Maybe on the grounds that depriving society of her gorgeousness would be the worst crime of all. It would have made as much sense as the reasons the other times. After all, what's a little murder or three compared to such stellar hotness? But hélas, mes amis, it was not to be. Sacre bleu!
Poirot: The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (2000)
The murder of proper writing
I can see that this episode is extremely unpopular among reviewers who've read the book it's based upon. I haven't read the novel, but their descriptions of it certainly make it sound far better than what we've got here. This is a flat, dull and uninspired affair. I ask you, how is it even possible to make an uninspired adaptation out of a novel by one of the greatest crime writers in history?
I've complained before about Poirot accusing people without having any evidence and them confessing. Fortunately, that's not the case here. Unfortunately, it's because the killer spontaneously gives a full and detailed confession without even being accused!
And what's with the ending? Are we really supposed to believe that policeman Japp would agree to lie about hearing the doctor's confession, conceal evidence (the diary) and leave two murders officially unsolved? All that just to spare the feelings of a woman he doesn't even know? Come on! And how's he going to explain what happened in the factory?
If I've understood correctly, in the novel there is no Japp, and Caroline Shepherd doesn't know that her brother's a murderer, so Poirot keeps the secret after his suicide. Is that right? If so, then it's somewhat credible. But with the scriptwriters having inserted Japp into the story, made Caroline fully aware of her brother's deeds, and put in some pointless gunplay leading to the doctor's suicide, the cover-up is now not only pointless but also totally unbelievable.
Poirot: Dumb Witness (1996)
Dumb Writer
Not Christie, of course, but whoever wrote this adaptation. It's yet another case which is resolved by Poirot simply deciding that such-and-such happened with no reasonable grounds for doing so and then the accused helpfully confessing.
I mean, the big reveal is based on the first victim's account of how she'd seen the reflection of someone wearing a dressing gown with certain initials embroidered onto it which would be reversed looking at them directly. That's it. That's the sum total of the "evidence." The prosecution rests, you honour. Give me a break.
But who would have guessed that lovely Laura from The Brittas Empire would turn out so bad? (Actually, Poirot does just that - guess.) And check out the IMDB portrait of Muriel Pavlov, the smaller of our sprightly twisted sisters. She was an absolute babe in her day.
Poirot: Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1993)
Mon dieu, Hastings! Ze Lucky Len, he iz beautiful!
This isn't the cleverest story in the series, nor the most suspenseful or exciting. But that certainly doesn't mean that it doesn't have its positives or that it's not an enjoyable way to pass 50 minutes.
We get out of London again. This time, we're staying in Brighton, something probably best done vicariously. Initially just Poirot and Hastings, it ends up being the complete Gang of Four. I'm guessing that Japp's beat is the whole of England.
Yet another person refers to Poirot as an odious little man or words to that effect. I suspect that's what most of us would think of him if we met him in real life, to be honest. But I'd sure as hell want him on my side if I were in a fix.
There's a young Hermione Norris. Ding dong! Finally, the Lucky Len running gag is amusing throughout the episode, with a great payoff at the end.
Poirot: The Underdog (1993)
Please to put your names in ze hat so Poirot can pick ze killer
The huge problem with this episode is that, at the end, not only does Poirot have absolutely no proof of anything, he doesn't even really have a reason to suspect Trefusis any more than the others. While the contract gives Trefusis a possible motive, all of the other suspects also stand to gain financially (and otherwise) from Atwell's death, some of them a lot more than he does.
Poirot's account of how the crime was committed is pure conjecture. As bensonmum2 explains well, any of the suspects could have murdered Atwell, and Poirot's found nothing to either substantiate or repudiate an accusation against anyone. So his declaring anyone guilty is purely down to randomly deciding to believe everyone else's professions of innocence. That's not how the great detective is supposed to work. And if Trefusis doesn't confess, there's not enough to even get him arrested, let alone charged, much less convicted. The needless confession in the absence of proof brings us right into "Murder, She Wrote" territory.
Funniest thing this episode? Atwell has a safe installed in his office wall, concealed by a portrait. At the press of a button, a secret mechanism slides the portrait aside to grant access to the hidden safe. And where's this button ingeniously concealed? Why, on a massive great hotel reception bell mounted on his desktop, of course!
Best thing? The blondes are back in town! The previous episode (Egyptian Tomb) featured only two women, Miss Lemon and old Lady Willard. No beautiful young blondes. Not one. I had to lie down after viewing while I went through the seven stages of grief. But here, the ship corrects course and we have luscious, lovely, long-legged Lilly to contemplate. She would be right at home on a catwalk, modelling one of those garish 30s creations they sometimes show as high fashion. All is forgiven, casting team. But try not to do it again. It's too traumatic.