Air date: 04/02/1990
Published: Ninth story in "Poirot Investigates" (1924)
At the fifteenth time of asking (well, fourteenth, technically, as they had tackled one novel by now) the TV producers finally dipped into the very first collection of Poirot short stories.
The Disappearance of Mr Davenheim is an enjoyable yarn about deception and fraud. It is also, as my daughter pointed out, one of those stories where you can't help giving the game away a bit when you turn the written word into a visual production.
The Mr Davenheim of the title is a banker who goes missing from his country pile the very afternoon a rival businessman, a Mr Lowen, was due to come and see him. When Davenheim's clothes are dredged from a nearby lake the finger of suspicion seems to point to Lowen. It is later discovered that the safe in Davenheim's study has been broken into, and bearer bonds, cash, and his wife's collection of expensive jewelry taken.
In the original much of the early part of the story is being reported by Inspector Japp to Poirot as they and Hastings share afternoon tea. The adaptation cleverly moves from 'live' story to Japp's account.
Poirot, ever lauding his 'little grey cells', is challenged by Japp to see if he can't solve the case without leaving his home, within seven days.
The police discover that Davenheim's signet ring has been rather clumsily pawned by a local vagrant-come-pickpocket, Billy Kellett. Poirot eventually works out that Kellett is Davenheim's alias. He had been defrauding the bank for years, and converting money into jewelry. In the TV production it's not difficult to spot British character-actor Kenneth Colley (Admiral Piett in two of the original Star Wars films!) playing both Davenheim and Kellett!
A few minor details have been changed for the TV production. In the original Davenheim was supposed to have spent the previous autumn in South America (actually he was being Kellett in prison!); whereas now it is South Africa. There is also a bigger role for Davenheim's wife.
What is more noticeable, however, are the embellishments, several of them quite humorous. Poirot, Hastings and Japp are at the theatre watching a magician. Although apparently bored, Poirot takes up an interest in card tricks and sleights-of-hand - a theme which runs through the episode.
Lowen is now, among other things, a car racing enthusiast (much to the delight of Hastings). Also, for some obscure reason, Poirot's 'confinement' at home coincides with him being asked to look after a friend's parrot.
At one point Hastings talks to it. "Don't fraternise with the creature; I'm still training him", says Poirot. "It's only a parrot", retorts Hastings. "I was talking to the parrot", says Poirot, without looking up from his desk.
Wednesday, 19 March 2014
Tuesday, 11 March 2014
14. The Cornish Mystery
Air date: 28/01/1990
Published: Third story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
I found The Cornish Mystery, both in its original written form and in its TV adaptation, a delightful story to follow.
It concerns a Mrs Pengelley, who visits Poirot from Cornwall, and who expresses the fear that she is being poisoned. The chief suspect is her husband, a dentist, and the motive the "yellow-haired hussy" who works as his assistant.
When Poirot and Hastings later travel down to Cornwall to see her they arrive to find she has just died! The local GP is convinced she was suffering from acute gastritis, but Poirot makes some initial investigations before returning to London. When, three months later, Edward Pengelley announces his engagement to his assistant, the outcry leads to an exhumation of the body. The discovery of arsenic poisoning prompts the arrest of Mr Pengelley.
It turns out that the motive was not love, but money. Mrs Pengelley's neice Freda was engaged to a local tailor, Jacob Radnor. Freda believed her aunt had a mid-life crush on him, but it turns out he had deliberately encouraged this. Radnor poisoned her and planned for her husband to go to the gallows for it so that he and Freda could pocket the family assets.
In the original Mrs Pengelley is very nervous about publicity when visiting Poirot. In the adaptation this is played out by her reluctance to come to his office. Instead Poirot and Hastings have to meet her in the park. Miss Lemon brokers this, although (again) she is not actually in the original. Japp isn't in the original, either, although turns up in the adaptation at the exhumation. Once again, he fears the worst: that Poirot will spoil what he thinks is a simple case.
Despite these differences the adaptation is remarkably faithful to the original, with large chunks of dialogue being taken verbatim from the original short story. For this reason the embellishments, such as they are, stand out all the more.
First, although referred to, Pengelley's assistant plays no real part in the original, but in the adaptation Poirot and Hastings visit her during their initial enquiries. This enables the producers to indulge in one facet of the team's characteristics that regularly surfaced: Hastings' soft-spot for an attractive woman. Here he is utterly tongue-tied in the dentist's surgery. When he and Poirot leave he exclaims: "What a stunner!"
Second, in the adaptation we see the funeral and a reading of the will, as well as Hastings and Miss Lemon dabbling in ancient Chinese oracle reading (which, I felt, was an unnecessary intrusion).
Third, in the original, Poirot - who knows he has no evidence - convinces Radnor to sign a confession, promising to give him 24 hours start before passing it to the police. Part of his ruse is to point out of the window to two bystanders and imply they are tailing him. Interestingly, in the adaptation, it is Hastings - in a rare moment of quick-witted improvisation - who does this (much to Poirot's amazement!). Interestingly, the original ends at this point, with the implication that Poirot will keep to his promise. In the adaptation it is clear he is not going to do so (to the annoyance of the ever upright and decent Hastings!).
Finally, the presence of Japp allows for the not uncommon 'light' ending. On this occasion, Poirot and Hastings disappear just before the Chief Inspector is informed his case against Pengelley has collapsed!
Published: Third story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
I found The Cornish Mystery, both in its original written form and in its TV adaptation, a delightful story to follow.
It concerns a Mrs Pengelley, who visits Poirot from Cornwall, and who expresses the fear that she is being poisoned. The chief suspect is her husband, a dentist, and the motive the "yellow-haired hussy" who works as his assistant.
When Poirot and Hastings later travel down to Cornwall to see her they arrive to find she has just died! The local GP is convinced she was suffering from acute gastritis, but Poirot makes some initial investigations before returning to London. When, three months later, Edward Pengelley announces his engagement to his assistant, the outcry leads to an exhumation of the body. The discovery of arsenic poisoning prompts the arrest of Mr Pengelley.
It turns out that the motive was not love, but money. Mrs Pengelley's neice Freda was engaged to a local tailor, Jacob Radnor. Freda believed her aunt had a mid-life crush on him, but it turns out he had deliberately encouraged this. Radnor poisoned her and planned for her husband to go to the gallows for it so that he and Freda could pocket the family assets.
In the original Mrs Pengelley is very nervous about publicity when visiting Poirot. In the adaptation this is played out by her reluctance to come to his office. Instead Poirot and Hastings have to meet her in the park. Miss Lemon brokers this, although (again) she is not actually in the original. Japp isn't in the original, either, although turns up in the adaptation at the exhumation. Once again, he fears the worst: that Poirot will spoil what he thinks is a simple case.
Despite these differences the adaptation is remarkably faithful to the original, with large chunks of dialogue being taken verbatim from the original short story. For this reason the embellishments, such as they are, stand out all the more.
First, although referred to, Pengelley's assistant plays no real part in the original, but in the adaptation Poirot and Hastings visit her during their initial enquiries. This enables the producers to indulge in one facet of the team's characteristics that regularly surfaced: Hastings' soft-spot for an attractive woman. Here he is utterly tongue-tied in the dentist's surgery. When he and Poirot leave he exclaims: "What a stunner!"
Second, in the adaptation we see the funeral and a reading of the will, as well as Hastings and Miss Lemon dabbling in ancient Chinese oracle reading (which, I felt, was an unnecessary intrusion).
Third, in the original, Poirot - who knows he has no evidence - convinces Radnor to sign a confession, promising to give him 24 hours start before passing it to the police. Part of his ruse is to point out of the window to two bystanders and imply they are tailing him. Interestingly, in the adaptation, it is Hastings - in a rare moment of quick-witted improvisation - who does this (much to Poirot's amazement!). Interestingly, the original ends at this point, with the implication that Poirot will keep to his promise. In the adaptation it is clear he is not going to do so (to the annoyance of the ever upright and decent Hastings!).
Finally, the presence of Japp allows for the not uncommon 'light' ending. On this occasion, Poirot and Hastings disappear just before the Chief Inspector is informed his case against Pengelley has collapsed!
Thursday, 27 February 2014
13. The Lost Mine
Air date: 21/01/1990
Published: Eighth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
This latest episode, in many ways, illustrates elements of what I might call the 'formula of adaptation' in those early days of Poirot one-hour episodes.
The basic story surrounds the proposed sale of a map of a Chinese silver mine to an English company. A Mr Wu-Ling turns up in the UK and books into a hotel prior to a business meeting. He subsequently goes missing and is found dead. Chief suspects are a rather down-and-out character called Dyer and a young bank clerk by the name of Charles Lester, who has a passion for gambling. In the end it turns out to be a Mr Pearson, from the company planning to buy the map.
In the adaptation a number of details and aspects of the plot are changed; more than had become customary, in my view. It is now a bank planning on acquiring the map and Mr Pearson is a director of the bank. Charles Lester, however, is a slightly dodgy American solicitor, whose weakness is opium, not gambling (Pearson is the gambler). Dyer (who is involved with the Chinatown narcotics world) has a much bigger role in the story. In fact, the whole sequence of events is different.
In the original Poirot is telling the story as flashback to Hastings after they begin discussing stocks and shares (Poirot had been given shares in "Burma Mines Ltd" for his part in solving the case). Japp isn't in the original (although he is briefly referred to): now he has a prominent role, using a operations room to dramatically co-ordinate the arrest of Dyer.
So much for the plot (which I didn't think was the most riveting). What do I mean by elements of the 'formula' of adaptation?
First, there is often a thematic link between the crime and Poirot and his 'team'. In this instance, as this is a tale about money and business, Hastings and Poirot are playing Monopoly; Poirot's bank account is overdrawn (it is later discovered that a cheque has not been paid in); and not only Hastings but even Miss Lemon (who is not in the original) are suddenly now followers of stocks and shares.
Also, it was becoming increasingly common for the one-hour episodes to begin and end on the same, slightly tangential piece of humour: in this instance, the Monopoly game. At the beginning Poirot doesn't really see the point of it (presumably because he is not doing too well), but at the end of the episode he wins - much to Hastings' annoyance.
Published: Eighth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
This latest episode, in many ways, illustrates elements of what I might call the 'formula of adaptation' in those early days of Poirot one-hour episodes.
The basic story surrounds the proposed sale of a map of a Chinese silver mine to an English company. A Mr Wu-Ling turns up in the UK and books into a hotel prior to a business meeting. He subsequently goes missing and is found dead. Chief suspects are a rather down-and-out character called Dyer and a young bank clerk by the name of Charles Lester, who has a passion for gambling. In the end it turns out to be a Mr Pearson, from the company planning to buy the map.
In the adaptation a number of details and aspects of the plot are changed; more than had become customary, in my view. It is now a bank planning on acquiring the map and Mr Pearson is a director of the bank. Charles Lester, however, is a slightly dodgy American solicitor, whose weakness is opium, not gambling (Pearson is the gambler). Dyer (who is involved with the Chinatown narcotics world) has a much bigger role in the story. In fact, the whole sequence of events is different.
In the original Poirot is telling the story as flashback to Hastings after they begin discussing stocks and shares (Poirot had been given shares in "Burma Mines Ltd" for his part in solving the case). Japp isn't in the original (although he is briefly referred to): now he has a prominent role, using a operations room to dramatically co-ordinate the arrest of Dyer.
So much for the plot (which I didn't think was the most riveting). What do I mean by elements of the 'formula' of adaptation?
First, there is often a thematic link between the crime and Poirot and his 'team'. In this instance, as this is a tale about money and business, Hastings and Poirot are playing Monopoly; Poirot's bank account is overdrawn (it is later discovered that a cheque has not been paid in); and not only Hastings but even Miss Lemon (who is not in the original) are suddenly now followers of stocks and shares.
Also, it was becoming increasingly common for the one-hour episodes to begin and end on the same, slightly tangential piece of humour: in this instance, the Monopoly game. At the beginning Poirot doesn't really see the point of it (presumably because he is not doing too well), but at the end of the episode he wins - much to Hastings' annoyance.
Friday, 21 February 2014
12. The Veiled Lady
Air date: 14/01/1990
Published: Sixteenth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
After the two-hour feature length episode of the previous week we returned to the one-hour adaptations of story stories, with a highly entertaining episode that has a wonderful twist to it.
At only 18 pages the original story is very short indeed. It opens with Hastings and Poirot discussing possible cases; the latter feeling somewhat frustrated. Hastings mentions a jewel theft in London and the killing of an Englishman in Holland, neither of which inspire. Astute readers of Agatha Christie will know, however, not to ignore such seemingly insignificant asides: they have a habit of coming back and biting you!
A Lady Millicent Castle Vaughan (the veiled lady of the title) turns up, seeking Poirot's help. Her engagement to a prominent Duke is threatened, it seems, by blackmail. An indiscreet letter, written in her teens, has apparently fallen into the unscrupulous hands of a Mr Lavington, who is demanding £20,000 to suppress it.
When Lavington pays a visit and rejects Poirot's attempts to resolve the matter amicably, our Belgian friend takes the law into his own hands, breaking into Lavington's home while he is in Paris. The letter had been hidden in a Chinese puzzle box, which Poirot and Hastings manage to retrieve. However, when they later present the letter to a relieved Lady Millicent she asks for the box as a souvenir of the incident. Poirot duly unmasks her as part of the jewel theft gang (the jewels are in another secret compartment in the puzzle box). The real Lavington had double-crossed the gang, who had later caught up with him in Holland and killed him. The blackmail story was a rouse to get Poirot to retrieve the jewels.
It is a lively story and in the TV adaptation it is hammed up for all its worth. In the original the night-time break-in at Laverton's home is aided by Poirot having visited earlier in the day, under the pretext of being a fitter of burglar alarms - but Poirot simply recounts this to Hastings in a couple of sentences. In the adaptation, however, the events of earlier in the day are played out superbly, and in full, with Poirot in suitable workman's clothes, arriving on a bike, and persuading the housekeeper he is a Swiss locksmith! Again, in the original, when the puzzle box is retrieved Hastings and Poirot simply return home. In the adaptation they are caught by a policeman (although Hastings does a runner) and Poirot spends a night in police cells! Our friend Japp enjoys every moment having him released the following morning. In the original the finale takes place at Poirot's flat, with Japp hiding in the bedroom to make an arrest at the appropriate moment. In the adaptation it takes place in the British Museum with a prolonged, comical attempt by the two culprits to hide! In the original it is made explicit that the compromising letter is bogus; in the adaptation this explanation gets a bit lost in the fun of the finale.
I have to add that this episode provides the defining 'Hastings moment', as far as I and my children are concerned. When Lady Millicent recounts her predicament at the hands of the dastardly Lavington, Hastings - dashing as ever - ejaculates: "The dirty swine!" And, yes, that line is in the original! For television the scriptwriters loved it enough to have Hastings repeat it a little later when the slimy Lavington pays them a visit!
Published: Sixteenth story in "Poirot's Early Cases" (1974)
After the two-hour feature length episode of the previous week we returned to the one-hour adaptations of story stories, with a highly entertaining episode that has a wonderful twist to it.
At only 18 pages the original story is very short indeed. It opens with Hastings and Poirot discussing possible cases; the latter feeling somewhat frustrated. Hastings mentions a jewel theft in London and the killing of an Englishman in Holland, neither of which inspire. Astute readers of Agatha Christie will know, however, not to ignore such seemingly insignificant asides: they have a habit of coming back and biting you!
A Lady Millicent Castle Vaughan (the veiled lady of the title) turns up, seeking Poirot's help. Her engagement to a prominent Duke is threatened, it seems, by blackmail. An indiscreet letter, written in her teens, has apparently fallen into the unscrupulous hands of a Mr Lavington, who is demanding £20,000 to suppress it.
When Lavington pays a visit and rejects Poirot's attempts to resolve the matter amicably, our Belgian friend takes the law into his own hands, breaking into Lavington's home while he is in Paris. The letter had been hidden in a Chinese puzzle box, which Poirot and Hastings manage to retrieve. However, when they later present the letter to a relieved Lady Millicent she asks for the box as a souvenir of the incident. Poirot duly unmasks her as part of the jewel theft gang (the jewels are in another secret compartment in the puzzle box). The real Lavington had double-crossed the gang, who had later caught up with him in Holland and killed him. The blackmail story was a rouse to get Poirot to retrieve the jewels.
It is a lively story and in the TV adaptation it is hammed up for all its worth. In the original the night-time break-in at Laverton's home is aided by Poirot having visited earlier in the day, under the pretext of being a fitter of burglar alarms - but Poirot simply recounts this to Hastings in a couple of sentences. In the adaptation, however, the events of earlier in the day are played out superbly, and in full, with Poirot in suitable workman's clothes, arriving on a bike, and persuading the housekeeper he is a Swiss locksmith! Again, in the original, when the puzzle box is retrieved Hastings and Poirot simply return home. In the adaptation they are caught by a policeman (although Hastings does a runner) and Poirot spends a night in police cells! Our friend Japp enjoys every moment having him released the following morning. In the original the finale takes place at Poirot's flat, with Japp hiding in the bedroom to make an arrest at the appropriate moment. In the adaptation it takes place in the British Museum with a prolonged, comical attempt by the two culprits to hide! In the original it is made explicit that the compromising letter is bogus; in the adaptation this explanation gets a bit lost in the fun of the finale.
I have to add that this episode provides the defining 'Hastings moment', as far as I and my children are concerned. When Lady Millicent recounts her predicament at the hands of the dastardly Lavington, Hastings - dashing as ever - ejaculates: "The dirty swine!" And, yes, that line is in the original! For television the scriptwriters loved it enough to have Hastings repeat it a little later when the slimy Lavington pays them a visit!
Thursday, 20 February 2014
11. Peril at End House
Air date: 07/01/1990
Published: 1932
Series two began with what I guess at the time would have been called 'a feature-length episode'.
It's funny how that phrase has become largely redundant today. The two-hour episode - pioneered, to an extent, by Inspector Morse - became increasingly popular in the 1990s, in long-running crime series such as A Touch of Frost and the indefatigable Midsomer Murders. All Agatha Christie's Poirot episodes followed this format from 1995 but, back in 1990, it was novel. Yes, pun intended: the two-hour episodes are all adaptations of Poirot novels, rather than short-stories.
Peril at End House was a good choice to launch the foray into novels. It comes fairly early in the Agatha Christie canon and the original - like many of the short stories - has Hastings narrating. This all meant it fitted easily into the world the producers had created in the first series.
It is also, I think, a good story. Poirot and Hastings, on holiday in St Loo, bump into Magdala 'Nick' Buckley, who lives in the somewhat run-down End House, and who, it seems, has recently survived a series of attempts on her life. Poirot becomes involved, but the plot thickens when her cousin, Maggie, is shot during an evening firework display - while wearing Nick's shawl. Nick's cocaine-user friend Freddie (that's short for Frederica, by the way), is an obvious suspect, as she is a beneficiary of Nick's will, as is her lawyer-cousin, Charles Vyse.
I began this project with a theory that the two-hour productions were likely to be less scrupulously faithful to the originals - if only because adapting a full-blown novel inevitably involves more by way of condensing and omission than would be the case with the short stories.
I have to say, however, that this first two-hour production is remarkably faithful once again. Yes, of course, some of the comings-and-goings are simplified or re-arranged to conform nearly 300 pages of narrative into the time-frame, and we get to the killing sooner. Even so, the general structure, flow - and a good deal of the script - follow the original closely.
The summing-up is somewhat simplified, in which Nick is unmasked as the killer, pretending to have been engaged to the recently-killed airman Michael Seton (heir to a fortune), when, in actual fact, Maggie was. A sub-plot, involving Australian con-artists the Crofts, is retained, but another, involving Freddie's estranged husband, is omitted. In the original we as readers know Poirot lets everyone believe that Nick has died, in order to 'make something happen'. In the adaptation more tension is created by this not being revealed to the viewer until his fake-seance finale.
Japp, who, in the original, is consulted briefly in London and then turns up at the end, now has a bigger role. Miss Lemon (not in the original) comes down to St Loo with some information for Poirot on the cocaine-dealing antics of another character, George Challenger.
Interestingly, there are references in the original to The Mystery of the Blue Train (the previous Poirot novel) as well as to The Mysterious Affair at Styles and the short story The Chocolate Box. These were omitted in the adaptation.
In the novel's opening scene at the Majestic Hotel Poirot is retired or, at least, on the threshold of retiring - a theme that crops up regularly in the books. As all serious fans will know, chronology is something of an issue with Poirot. Agatha Christie later admitted she had made a mistake depicting him as elderly in the very first novel. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and, of course, she originally killed him off in the early 1940s, which would have made the chronology workable. That story (Curtain) was suppressed for four decades; a capitulation, I suspect, to commercial pressure (particularly given the fact that Christie had by then become thoroughly fed-up with her Belgian hero). Nevertheless, who can blame her?
The retirement issue is ignored in the TV production. It is, however, a theme we will inevitably re-visit as the episodes continue.
Published: 1932
Series two began with what I guess at the time would have been called 'a feature-length episode'.
It's funny how that phrase has become largely redundant today. The two-hour episode - pioneered, to an extent, by Inspector Morse - became increasingly popular in the 1990s, in long-running crime series such as A Touch of Frost and the indefatigable Midsomer Murders. All Agatha Christie's Poirot episodes followed this format from 1995 but, back in 1990, it was novel. Yes, pun intended: the two-hour episodes are all adaptations of Poirot novels, rather than short-stories.
Peril at End House was a good choice to launch the foray into novels. It comes fairly early in the Agatha Christie canon and the original - like many of the short stories - has Hastings narrating. This all meant it fitted easily into the world the producers had created in the first series.
It is also, I think, a good story. Poirot and Hastings, on holiday in St Loo, bump into Magdala 'Nick' Buckley, who lives in the somewhat run-down End House, and who, it seems, has recently survived a series of attempts on her life. Poirot becomes involved, but the plot thickens when her cousin, Maggie, is shot during an evening firework display - while wearing Nick's shawl. Nick's cocaine-user friend Freddie (that's short for Frederica, by the way), is an obvious suspect, as she is a beneficiary of Nick's will, as is her lawyer-cousin, Charles Vyse.
I began this project with a theory that the two-hour productions were likely to be less scrupulously faithful to the originals - if only because adapting a full-blown novel inevitably involves more by way of condensing and omission than would be the case with the short stories.
I have to say, however, that this first two-hour production is remarkably faithful once again. Yes, of course, some of the comings-and-goings are simplified or re-arranged to conform nearly 300 pages of narrative into the time-frame, and we get to the killing sooner. Even so, the general structure, flow - and a good deal of the script - follow the original closely.
The summing-up is somewhat simplified, in which Nick is unmasked as the killer, pretending to have been engaged to the recently-killed airman Michael Seton (heir to a fortune), when, in actual fact, Maggie was. A sub-plot, involving Australian con-artists the Crofts, is retained, but another, involving Freddie's estranged husband, is omitted. In the original we as readers know Poirot lets everyone believe that Nick has died, in order to 'make something happen'. In the adaptation more tension is created by this not being revealed to the viewer until his fake-seance finale.
Japp, who, in the original, is consulted briefly in London and then turns up at the end, now has a bigger role. Miss Lemon (not in the original) comes down to St Loo with some information for Poirot on the cocaine-dealing antics of another character, George Challenger.
Interestingly, there are references in the original to The Mystery of the Blue Train (the previous Poirot novel) as well as to The Mysterious Affair at Styles and the short story The Chocolate Box. These were omitted in the adaptation.
In the novel's opening scene at the Majestic Hotel Poirot is retired or, at least, on the threshold of retiring - a theme that crops up regularly in the books. As all serious fans will know, chronology is something of an issue with Poirot. Agatha Christie later admitted she had made a mistake depicting him as elderly in the very first novel. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and, of course, she originally killed him off in the early 1940s, which would have made the chronology workable. That story (Curtain) was suppressed for four decades; a capitulation, I suspect, to commercial pressure (particularly given the fact that Christie had by then become thoroughly fed-up with her Belgian hero). Nevertheless, who can blame her?
The retirement issue is ignored in the TV production. It is, however, a theme we will inevitably re-visit as the episodes continue.
Tuesday, 18 February 2014
Interlude: "Poirot and Me"
For Christmas (2013) my wife bought me David Suchet's recently published account, "Poirot and Me", which I had eagerly devoured in those 'lovely lazy days' between Christmas and New Year.
It occurred to me that I could add another dimension to this blog by re-reading the parallel section of the actor's book, at the end of each series.
It takes David Suchet four (out of a total of 19) chapters to bring us to the point where he had just completed the filming of series one, with a short fifth chapter then commenting on its reception when it began to air.
This is understandable: He was not, after all, writing an episode-by-episode review, but an autobiographical reminisence of his incredible 25 years playing Poirot. How it all began is clearly of major significance.
So, after a moving Preface (on filming Curtain) we are given insight, in the opening chapters, into how he came to be offered the role, and how his 'character actor' background led him to gradually, methodically, take on the mantle of the fastidious Belgian detective. This included writing a lengthy list of Poirot's characteristics, drawn from his reading of the original novels and short stories. A facsimile of his original list is published at the end of the book.
The first series was filmed between July and December 1988 - at an exhausting pace. There was considerable uncertainty as to how it would be received. In the end, media and audience reaction was overwhelmingly good - and towards the end of February 1989 (while the first series was still on air) ITV confirmed they wanted to go ahead and make a second series.
It occurred to me that I could add another dimension to this blog by re-reading the parallel section of the actor's book, at the end of each series.
It takes David Suchet four (out of a total of 19) chapters to bring us to the point where he had just completed the filming of series one, with a short fifth chapter then commenting on its reception when it began to air.
This is understandable: He was not, after all, writing an episode-by-episode review, but an autobiographical reminisence of his incredible 25 years playing Poirot. How it all began is clearly of major significance.
So, after a moving Preface (on filming Curtain) we are given insight, in the opening chapters, into how he came to be offered the role, and how his 'character actor' background led him to gradually, methodically, take on the mantle of the fastidious Belgian detective. This included writing a lengthy list of Poirot's characteristics, drawn from his reading of the original novels and short stories. A facsimile of his original list is published at the end of the book.
The first series was filmed between July and December 1988 - at an exhausting pace. There was considerable uncertainty as to how it would be received. In the end, media and audience reaction was overwhelmingly good - and towards the end of February 1989 (while the first series was still on air) ITV confirmed they wanted to go ahead and make a second series.
10. The Dream
Air date: 19/03/1989
Published: Fifth story in "The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding" (1960)
The Dream is one of those episodes of Agatha Christie's Poirot that, for whatever reason, I seem to have watched several times over the years - or, at least, the plot and details have stayed with me.
That possibly threatens to skew one's perspective, even though for "Little Grey Cells" I am continuing to read the original before watching the adaptation.
The story concerns a rich businessman, Benedict Farley, who consults Poirot over a recurring dream he has been having of shooting himself. Poirot is unable to help but when, a few days later, Farley is found shot (and evidence of their meeting comes to light) he is called in to assist the investigation.
It turns out that Poirot did not meet Farley. Rather, it was his private secretary, Hugo Cornworthy, in disguise. Cornworthy, who had meticulously planned the whole thing (in cahoots with Farley's wife), had later shot Farley through an adjacent window.
I was struck by the faithfulness of the TV adaptation's script to the original, down to several chunks of dialogue being taken verbatim.
That's not to say there aren't embellishments, of course: in fact, there are plenty, but they don't grate. The full 'team' of Hastings, Miss Lemon and Japp are in attendance, although none of them appear in the original. Farley's business (not really stated in the original) is now seen to be, of all things, the manufacturing of pies. In fact, the episode opens with a Pathe news piece on an expansion of his factory. For some reason the murder happens at 12:28, not 3:28, and Farley was due to meet some union reps, not journalists.
There is considerable humour in this episode. At the beginning Miss Lemon complains that she needs a new typewriter - but at the end Poirot presents her with a new clock. When unable to solve the case Poirot complains that the failure of his 'little grey cells' are the fruits of fast living in younger days - to which Hastings is suitably flabbergasted! Poirot - ever the connoiseur - is dismissive of Farley's pies. All of this shows the degree to which the writers had developed the main characters by the end of this first series.
Interestingly, in the original Poirot consults his new acquisition: a wrist-watch! As the TV producers set everything in the 1930s this would be anathema to the little Belgian. We also have a 'summing up' scene involving all the characters; something that would become a regular feature in the later, two-hour episodes.
In the adaptation we once again have a dramatic 'television' ending that is absent from the original. Cornworthy does a runner (even evading the derring-do of Hastings), only to be taken down, rugby-tackle style, by Herbert, the impoverished love-interest of Farley's daughter Joanna.
And so on this spirited and entertaining note the first series of Agatha Christie's Poirot came to an end.
Published: Fifth story in "The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding" (1960)
The Dream is one of those episodes of Agatha Christie's Poirot that, for whatever reason, I seem to have watched several times over the years - or, at least, the plot and details have stayed with me.
That possibly threatens to skew one's perspective, even though for "Little Grey Cells" I am continuing to read the original before watching the adaptation.
The story concerns a rich businessman, Benedict Farley, who consults Poirot over a recurring dream he has been having of shooting himself. Poirot is unable to help but when, a few days later, Farley is found shot (and evidence of their meeting comes to light) he is called in to assist the investigation.
It turns out that Poirot did not meet Farley. Rather, it was his private secretary, Hugo Cornworthy, in disguise. Cornworthy, who had meticulously planned the whole thing (in cahoots with Farley's wife), had later shot Farley through an adjacent window.
I was struck by the faithfulness of the TV adaptation's script to the original, down to several chunks of dialogue being taken verbatim.
That's not to say there aren't embellishments, of course: in fact, there are plenty, but they don't grate. The full 'team' of Hastings, Miss Lemon and Japp are in attendance, although none of them appear in the original. Farley's business (not really stated in the original) is now seen to be, of all things, the manufacturing of pies. In fact, the episode opens with a Pathe news piece on an expansion of his factory. For some reason the murder happens at 12:28, not 3:28, and Farley was due to meet some union reps, not journalists.
There is considerable humour in this episode. At the beginning Miss Lemon complains that she needs a new typewriter - but at the end Poirot presents her with a new clock. When unable to solve the case Poirot complains that the failure of his 'little grey cells' are the fruits of fast living in younger days - to which Hastings is suitably flabbergasted! Poirot - ever the connoiseur - is dismissive of Farley's pies. All of this shows the degree to which the writers had developed the main characters by the end of this first series.
Interestingly, in the original Poirot consults his new acquisition: a wrist-watch! As the TV producers set everything in the 1930s this would be anathema to the little Belgian. We also have a 'summing up' scene involving all the characters; something that would become a regular feature in the later, two-hour episodes.
In the adaptation we once again have a dramatic 'television' ending that is absent from the original. Cornworthy does a runner (even evading the derring-do of Hastings), only to be taken down, rugby-tackle style, by Herbert, the impoverished love-interest of Farley's daughter Joanna.
And so on this spirited and entertaining note the first series of Agatha Christie's Poirot came to an end.
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