AGATHA CHRISTIE'S POIROT: COMPLETE CASE FILES, Blu-ray (ITV, A&E, RLJ, 1989-2003) ACORN MEDIA

 Perhaps no mystery author is as revered as Dame Agatha Christie - for good reason. In a prolific career that included a collection of short stories and 85 novels, Christie’s verve for the ‘locked room’ thriller never waned, nor did the quality in her writing. In her own time, Christie was world-renown and internationally read and respected. That her fictional alter ego, the diminutive Belgian sleuth, Hercule Poirot became an even bigger figure than Christie, indeed – to take on a life of his own – was something Christie never expected, nor intended. And so, it was with some apprehension Dame Christie elected to put a period to her most enduring – if not entirely ‘endearing’ creation, formally to announce Poirot’s ‘death’ in her final installment ‘Curtain’, later eulogized in a fitting obituary, published on Aug. 6, 1975 in the New York Times.  Mercifully, this was not to be the real ‘end’ of Hercule Poirot, thanks, in part, to a series of highly profitable feature films made throughout the 1970's and 80's, the first - starring Albert Finney - and later, Peter Ustinov as varying incarnations of the fastidious fact-finder and self-anointed arbitrator of moral truth. Then, in 1985, came the first bit of kismet to suggest one of the world’s most beloved detectives had yet to officially retire - the unlikely debut of actor, David Suchet – not as Poirot, but as Inspector Japp, opposite Ustinov in Thirteen at Dinner. From this inauspicious unveiling, Suchet could not have foreseen the monumental impact Hercule Poirot would have on his life and career, not even two-years later when he was offered an attractive three-year contract to star as the ingenious mastermind in LWT’s (later to be continued by A&E and ITV) franchise, simply titled, Agatha Christie’s Poirot (1989-2013).

In preparation for the role, Suchet immersed himself in all the Christie novels, taking to heart Poirot’s quirks as “the sort of man who takes it upon himself to straighten your tie…but also knows how to make a woman feel special.” Hercule Poirot is hardly a lovable creature. At times, he can be downright dismissive, even of his most loyal partnerships, setting aside virtually every vestige of emotion and tact to react as a sort of fact-checking human calculator, adding up the clues with his neuron-firing ‘little grey cells’ to debunk increasingly devious and psychologically complex murder plots. Poirot’s brittle nature was brought into full swing by Albert Finney’s singular turn as the celebrated detective in Sidney Lumet’s Murder on the Orient Express (1974). Peter Ustinov softened these rough edges considerably and, despite bearing virtually no physical resemblance to the character as described by Christie, nevertheless managed to convey the essence of Poirot in several movies made thereafter, the most enduring, 1978’s all-star cliffhanger, Death on the Nile. But to date, David Suchet remains the only actor to appear in adaptations of all Dame Agatha’s Poirot mysteries in a visual medium - no small feat, and one for which a change in broadcast format, as well as the creative talent toiling behind the screen, created something of a disconnect within the franchise midway through its staggering 24-year run.  Initially developed in partnership between screenwriter, Clive Exton and producer, Brian Eastman, the one-hour mystery series, to air on PBS, made exceptional use of period Art Deco locations and décor, chiefly overseen by Rob Harris until 2000. Exton, in fact, adapted seven of Christie’s novels and fourteen of her short stories for these teleplays before departing the franchise. The first eight series were overseen entirely by Exton and Eastman until 2001 when they elected to develop another series for the BBC, Rosemary & Thyme (2003-06).

In their absence, Michele Buck and Damien Timmer set about to ‘revamp’ Poirot, the series on hiatus until 2003 when it returned as 2-hour ‘event programming’ on PBS and featuring a deep-seated change in the overall tenor. Lost in this translation was Christopher Gunning’s iconic and jocular Poirot theme, intermittently heard thereafter, mostly as somber cues peppered throughout the remaining episodes and, on the rarest occasion, re-orchestrated to spirited effect for the ‘end titles.’ One can, I suppose, accept the overall darker flavor of these event movies, as the more recent times are presumably ill-suited for that bon vivant’s good-natured approach of the late 1980’s and early 90’s. Also set aside when the franchise returned: those utterly gorgeous, uber-modernist sets as, inevitably, the timeline had moved beyond the halcyon days of the early 1930’s into that fast-approaching epoch of WWII. But personally, I cannot abide the alterations made to contemporize Poirot for a younger audience, the facelift lacking humor and taking on a much more macabre tone than was ever present in any of Dame Agatha’s Poirot novels.

Buck and Timmer also lay heavily on the more primeval metaphors and oft cliché-reoccurring motifs in their vigor to bring sex, homo-eroticism, drug abuse and abortion to the forefront of their plots, essentially abandoning all subtlety infused in the original series and, in fact, Christie’s tales of terror. One of the more unforgivable sins in these latter installments, ironically, Christie would have approved: the absence of Poirot’s entourage in Series 9 through 12; Inspector Japp (played with stoic zeal by Philip Jackson), Colonel Hastings (a disarming Hugh Fraser) and his private secretary, Miss Felicity Lemon (the ever-plucky Pauline Moran). Indeed, as Christie evolved the Poirot franchise, she too abandoned these beloved reoccurring regulars, introducing the character of mystery novelist, Ariadne Oliver as her alter ego (superbly imagined in several episodes by Zoë Wanamaker) beginning in Series 10 in 2006. The debut of David Yelland as Poirot’s ever-steadfast valet, George ought to have come much earlier, except the original series, with its focus on the bro-mantic chemistry between Poirot and Hastings, really had no place for yet another appendage to Poirot’s already exceptionally well-ordered life.   

David Suchet came to Poirot’s pedigree under the auspices and acceptance of Dame Agatha’s surviving family. Her grandson, Mathew Pritchard has been as impressed with Suchet’s performances since, and, over the series’ evolution, Pritchard’s singular regret is that his grandmother and Suchet never met. Christie died at the ripe old age of 85 in 1976. “My grandmother would have loved him, I am sure,” Pritchard has reasserted numerous times. Indeed, Suchet’s Poirot is likely a creation Christie would have found right on the mark, an outwardly fastidious disciple and chronicler of human nature, beneath which Suchet intermittently allowed Poirot’s seemingly bloodless demeanor to slip into glimpses of the inner harbingers of grave sadness for his own lost opportunities with the fairer sex, never better exhibited than in the episode, The Chocolate Box, in which a decade-old unsolved crime is exposed by Poirot and we find that, as a young Belgian police officer, he once harbored hidden feelings for the elegant, Virginie Mesnard (Anna Chancellor), a woman desperate to learn the truth behind the death of dashing young politico, Paul Deroulard (James Coombes). There were also flashes of Poirot’s devotion to the ‘fairer sex’ in Peril at End House – a 2-part mystery involving Polly Walker’s seemingly fresh-faced heiress, Magdala ‘Nick’ Buckley, presumably in grave danger from an unknown assassin, and much later, in The Labours of Hercules, where Poirot not only takes pity on chauffeur, Ted Williams (Tom Austen), offering to reunite him with his long-lost sweetheart, also, empathetic toward the drug-plagued ballerina, Katrina (Fiona O'Shaughnessy), and, supposed abused wife, Elsie Clayton (Morvan Christie).

Despite Suchet’s claim to have pictorialized ‘all’ of Christie’s Poirot mysteries, there are several omissions worth mentioning. First, two short stories ‘The Submarine Plans’ and ‘The Market Basing Mystery,’ were never filmed in their original short story format as Agatha Christie later reworked both into novellas (The Incredible Theft, and, Murder in the Mews, respectively).  Each of these was made into hour-long episodes for the original franchise.  Also, the thirteen short stories comprising ‘The Labors of Hercules’ have been combined into a single episode of the same name – and, one of the very best 2-hr. event movies in the franchise, with the character of Lemesurier, giving a polite nod in another short story entirely, The Lemesurier Inheritance, again - never filmed. Another absence is ‘The Regatta Mystery’ – generally not considered part of the Poirot canon, despite having first appeared in installments in the Strand Magazine in 1936 with Poirot as its crime-solver. Christie would later rework this story as a Parker Pyne mystery. This is, in fact, how it was published as a full-fledged novel in 1939 and has since been accepted into the Christie/Pyne, rather than Poirot catalog. Lastly, the play ‘Black Coffee’ – distinctly a Hercule Poirot mystery – remains conspicuously MIA for dubious reasons. It seems Christie never rewrote the play as a novel. With the family’s complicity, a post-mortem adaptation finally did arrive in book form in 1998. And Suchet did, also, appear in the original play on stage – thus, solidifying his claim to have ‘done justice’ to the entire authentic annals of Hercule Poirot. 

The Poirot franchise is so extensive that to do it justice in any review would mean a recitation as long as the great man’s illustrious career. I shall refrain from such a list. Suffice it to say, an evening spent with Hercule Poirot is never anything less than invigorating. Interestingly, some of the most highly anticipated mysteries in the Christie franchise are not altogether well-served by the television format. Murder on the Orient Express, arguably Christie’s most enduring Poirot mystery, is a rather wan ghost flower when directly compared to Sidney Lumet’s feature film from 1974, starring Albert Finney; as is Death on the Nile – the production values and lack of an all-star international cast, leaving one to pine for Peter Ustinov’s glib repartee with David Niven’s Colonel Race from 1978. Some of the irrefutable highlights in the TV franchise are Triangle at Rhodes, in which a well-heeled actress is poisoned at a posh hotel, Peril at End House/The Veiled Lady – where Poirot suspects the intended victim and the murderer may be one in the same, The Kidnapped Prime Minister, as Poirot is called in to restore order to a government in crisis, and, The ABC Murders, where a killer taunts Poirot with homicides, seemingly unrelated except for their adherence to the alphabet. In Death in the Clouds the series’ creators splurged for a travelogue through Paris as Poirot attempts to get to the bottom of a brutal homicide, while Hercule Poirot’s Christmas has Poirot invited to an imposing country estate where a wealthy diamond mine owner has been killed. In The Mystery of the Blue Train, an heiress meets her untimely end while bound for a country retreat with her lover. And, in Appointment with Death Poirot investigates the murder of an archeologist’s mean-spirited wife. 

Hallowe’en Party charts the drowning of a child during a game of bobbing for apples while Cat Among the Pigeons, creates an eerie atmosphere at an all-girl’s preparatory school where the faculty are being picked off one at a time. In Elephants Can Remember, Poirot is unaware his investigation into the murder of a noted psychiatrist is linked to a 20-year-old murder/suicide, and in Dead Man’s Folly, Poirot and Ariande Oliver journey to Nass House to investigate the murder of a teenager and sudden disappearance of a wealthy young woman. In The Labours of Hercule, Poirot hunts down a cunning serial killer atop an isolated mountain retreat and in Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case we bid a bittersweet farewell to a dying Poirot, cared for by an aged Colonel Hastings after his return to London finds Poirot in a convalescence home. Virtually all the ITV installments immeasurably benefit from the producers’ great pains to photograph this franchise in authentic, oft exotic locales - from London to Paris to Egypt and all points in-between. Indeed, Poirot is one of the most lavishly appointed TV series of its generation, most readily and superbly photographed by Chris O’Dell (15 episodes) and Ivan Strasburg (11 episodes).  The small army of writers, producers, cinematographers, and production designers who have contributed to its period look are to be sincerely commended, not just for their attention to every last detail, but in maintaining continuity throughout the series’ fractured past with intermittent fallow periods never once unsettling Suchet’s unimpeachable assimilation into character. He remains the continuity that holds this franchise together.

In brief, Poirot was to suffer several shake-ups along the way, threatening both its continuation and its continuity. Acorn Media acquired the rights to series 1–6 and 11–12 while series 7–10 remained the intellectual property of co-producers, A&E. Of interest, the A&E network broadcast versions omitted scenes, presumably for time constraints. The eventual reissue of these episodes via ITV has reinstated all this excised footage. But the change in corporate sponsorship may also account for why these episodes included in ITV’s comprehensive Poirot Blu-ray box set appear to have been sourced from badly worn digital tape rather than film stock, with overly harsh contrast and riddled in edge enhancement, marred also by a decided loss in color fidelity. It really is quite unforgiveable, with appallingly subpar image quality to dog this set intermittently from Season 7 onward. Beginning with The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, and continuing right on through Cards on the Table, image quality is highly suspect. Some episodes are more richly contrasted and stable, but far too many exhibit wan colors, chroma smearing, anemic contrast and digital anomalies to distort and distract, with jaggies and digital grit plaguing quite a few of the masters used herein.

Series 1-6 and 12-13 represent the most competent mastering efforts in this box set. Herein, colors are rich, contrast superb and fine detail shockingly layered in clothes, skin, hair and background detail. Sheena Napier’s costume design showcases immaculate suits for Poirot with razor-sharp exposure of their gorgeous tailoring in pin-stripes and various other hand-woven textures. In close-up we can see even the brilliantine matting Suchet’s perfectly upturned moustache. Alas, in Series 7-11, these virtues inexplicably evaporate, with image quality uneven and problematic at best. Color density turns to chalk, as does overall clarity – replaced in a few episodes by a very artificial sharpening of the image and severe chroma bleeding. Miss McGuinty is Dead, as example, is virtually unwatchable. Cards on the Table, not much better. In long shot, textures and details severely blur, introducing other anomalies – aliasing and electronic processing. It has been difficult to get any information on the sources used in remastering these episodes in hi-def (despite ITV’s claim everything was shot on Super16 between 1999-2000), but again, I strongly suspect these episodes have been upscaled from digital tape, or, are the result of some very dated hi-def scans in desperate need of a revisit. Whatever the case, Poirot deserves far better than this!

The audio on all episodes from Series 1-13 has been superbly handled in 2.0 DTS. There are virtually zero complaints here. Dialogue is very crisp and nuanced, and music and effects well integrated into the mix. ITV has added some impressive bonus features along the way, albeit – only on standard DVD, including 3 comprehensive documentaries. The first, Being Poirot is a 62-minute globe-trotting excursion that takes actor, David Suchet back to the various locales of Poirot’s most memorable mysteries. The second, Super Sleuths (47 min.) is a wonderful retrospective on the series with all its key players returning ‘to the scene of the crime’ as it were, and recounting their favorite moments. Finally, there is David Suchet on the Orient Express – also 47 min. but by far the least successful, made as a junket to coincide with ITV’s re-imagining of the classic Christie tale to whet the public’s appetite for its upcoming television broadcast.  Bottom line: Agatha Christie’s drawing power as one of the most prescient writers of the 20th century shows little signs of diminishing in the years since her passing. Hercule Poirot remains as steadfast a part of our mystery-viewing culture as Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes; the super sleuth whose popularity Christie had candidly endeavored to equal with Poirot’s creation. ITV’s comprehensive box set is not without its shortcomings. But, this is still a worthwhile set to get your favorite armchair crime-solver moxie on. There are no ‘dull’ moments in Poirot. While we all have our favorites, each here is a gemstone to be treasured for years to come. Bottom line: highly recommended for content, but with caveats for its inconsistently rendered video quality. Regrets.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

Series 1-6       4.5

Series 7-11     2

Series 12-13   4

 EXTRAS

3.5

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