Friday Forgotten (or Overlooked) Book: DESTINATION UNKNOWN aka SO MANY STEPS TO DEATH (1954) by Agatha Christie

When in doubt, reach for a Christie - words to live by. A quick re-read and all's right with the world again - at least for the moment. (This post is a re-working of a review I did several years ago of a book I never get tired of re-reading, especially when I'm in need of escaping to a more comfortable, more familiar world. And boy, these days do I ever need that.)

Destination Unknown (aka So Many Steps to Death) by Agatha Christie is a stand-alone published in 1954 - the book doesn't feature Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot nor any of the other Christie sleuths. In fact, for the most part this is a thriller though it also has, as a major plot surprise, an element of whodunit thrown in for good measure at the end. Christie was often tricky like that.

Probably not as well known as the titles in the Poirot and Marple canons, but I think this is in many ways, one of Christie's more comforting bests, even if the oh-so-improbable plot requires a larger than average suspension of disbelief. It is in my view, perfect escapist entertainment. The story begins with a sad woman on the verge of suicide and ends with her a heroine no longer sad. Through an extraordinary set of circumstances, she has found the strength to survive.

Hilary Craven is a young, typically subdued British woman who has lost her beloved child to illness and her husband to ennui. As an escape she gets on a plane to Paris, a runaway who discovers almost immediately that you cannot run away from yourself - wherever you are, there you are. Seeing no point to the emptiness of her life, she plans a nice, quite out-of-the-way suicide - wouldn't want to bother anyone back home in England. Christie was not being especially subtle when she named her heroine Craven. Though, in truth, her character's motivation is easy enough to understand.

This quest for oblivion is deduced at a conveniently opportune moment by a shady character named Jessop (of the intelligence service), who picks up on Hilary's intention with no more than an experienced hunch, To watch him reel her into his grand scheme of impersonation (it's her flaming red hair, you see) is a Christie, fairy-tale delight. (Yeah, this is definitely a candidate for my Fairy Tale Crime sub-genre which would also include THE MAN IN THE BROWN SUIT and THEY CAME TO BAGHDAD, both also by Christie.)

As she is lining up some pills, Jessop stealthily breaks into Hilary's hotel room and upsets her immediate plans:

"...You're not interested in life, you don't want to live any longer, you more or less welcome the idea of death?"

"Yes."

"Good," said Jessop, cheerfully. "So now we know where we are. Let's go on to the next step. Has it got to be sleeping pills?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've already told you that they're not as romantic as they sound. Throwing yourself off a building isn't too nice, either. You don't always die at once. And the same applies to falling under a train. What I'm getting at is that there are other ways."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"I'm suggesting another method. Rather a sporting method, really. There's some excitement in it, too. I'll be fair with you. There's just a hundred to one chance that you mightn't die. But I don't believe under the circumstances, that you'd really object by that time."

The gist of the plot: several top-notch scientists have disappeared from their various corners of the world and no one knows where they are - not their governments, families, closest friends or fellow workers. Because of the delicate nature of their scientific specialties, government agencies are naturally concerned. The suspicion is that these learned men and women have gone over to the other side, slipped away behind the Iron Curtain - it was that time in history. If so, there's not much to be done, but if there should be another explanation then...

When Olive Betterton, a young, trim red-headed English woman suspected of being on her way to wherever her husband Tom - a nuclear physicist - is hiding, is badly hurt in a plane crash on the very plane that Hilary Craven would have been on had not the weather forced her connecting flight to detour away from the airport, well then, you kind of know where this is headed. Olive Betterton is pulled barely alive from the wreckage and taken to hospital where all she knows (IF she knows) about Tom Betterton's mysterious disappearance will die with her, unless...

Well, this is an Agatha Christie plot, so you have to expect surprises on top of surprises and boy do you get them here. Such an outlandish plot, but I go along with it every time I re-read the book. I mean, why not? It couldn't happen now, but it could have happened once upon a time...

Hilary Craven is quickly remade into Olive Betterton and sent on her way to join a bunch of disparate travelers, any one of which may or may not be an unknown contact, touring Morocco and other exotic locales. When contact is at last made, it comes in the least expected way and Hillary almost blows it.

Then the circuitous adventure begins. Hillary and certain traveling companions are led away from civilization towards 'a new world.' Their destination? A sinister Utopian society hidden away where no one would ever think of looking. 

Terrific book if you're stricken with the doldrums and feel like a strangely comforting tale of spies, murder, travel, an incredible secret hideout, a cold-hearted villain and last, but not least, a bit of romance and a whodunit twist.

Since it's Friday, don't forget to check in at author Patricia Abbott's blog, Pattinase, to see what other forgotten or overlooked books other bloggers are talking about today.

For the purist: My favorite filmed Poirot and/or Miss Marple PBS episodes.

In direct response to comments on my Poirot (THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES) post, I've decided to list my own personal favorites from the long-running Poirot and Jane Marple series. These are the episodes I really, REALLY love and you know how I am when I really REALLY love something, I want to share it to my heart's content. So bear with me, my dears, I'm off and running.

For my own personal favorites, the criteria was this: faithful adaptation to the source material (or at least, as faithful as possible considering that film is different from books and some leeway must be allowed), the actors involved and the true Christie 'aura' which is something indefinable unless it's missing and well, you know how that goes.

This is NOT a definitive list by the way, we don't do definitive here. Well, maybe we do (see below), but not every day. I'm no expert, just a life-long fan of Agatha Christie's work.

Joan Hickson - in my view, the definitive Jane Marple.

First up, these are the PBS Miss Marple episodes (or short/term series) I remember best and love most:

THE BODY IN THE LIBRARY (1984) starring Joan Hickson as Miss Marple. An embarrassment of riches as far as the cast and the setting and faithful adaptation to the story. EVERYONE, and I mean, everyone (including Sting's wife whose real name I've forgotten) is brilliant. The twisted 'how-to' of a particularly clever murderer could only be deduced by an equally clever and maybe just an little bit equally twisted Jane Marple.

This is the episode that introduces the oh-so-belligerent David Horovitch as the inappropriately named Inspector Slack. He is such an awful human being - I adore him.

Miss Marple is hard-pressed but too well-mannered to role her eyes when in his company.

A MURDER IS ANNOUNCED (1985) starring Joan Hickson as Miss Marple. Another gorgeous English village setting, another fabulous cast of character actors - the sort the British seem able to produce at the drop of a hat - several nasty murders and an almost impossible villain - though in the book, the clues are fairly given, it's a little harder in the film, they are so subtle.

I find the initial crime in the story to be fairly preposterous considering the options the murderer must have had to do the thing quietly and discreetly - you do wonder why this person would bring all this unwanted attention on themselves. But that's just a minor flaw with the original story and let's not quibble since the results are so agreeable.

John Castle makes for an especially handsome (and suave) Inspector Craddock and Kevin Whately (of Morse and Inspector Lewis fame) is Sgt. Fletcher, his assistant in command.

THE MURDER AT THE VICARAGE (1986) starring Joan Hickson as Miss Marple. A view of St. Mary Mead (Miss Marple's abode) as a hot-bed of romantic entanglements, sexual shenanigans and murderous doings - ah, the joys of small town village life. Though in this particular film, the implication that Miss Marple is just another nasty village gossip is hinted at, we all know that not to be the case since she listens more than anything else. Listening is an art, especially when you are on the side of the angels. The story features a fairly pedestrian murder of an unwanted, unloved hubby, still it's the solution that works a treat. Not to mention the deceptively sleepy village ambience.

SLEEPING MURDER (1987) starring Joan Hickson as Miss Marple. The last of the Miss Marple books, I believe. In this TV rendition, the English countryside is sumptuously on display, so much so, that I sometimes just stop the film and sit staring and thinking, 'surely England must be the most beautiful country on earth'. I know it probably isn't, there are many more spectacular places with much more spectacular scenery, but for sheer bliss, for quietly soothing, gently dignified country scenes set in the last century - mythical scenes, really - you simply cannot top the Brits' homeland.

And then there is the perfect country house at the center of the mystery....sigh.

The cast again is superb, the young honeymooning couple at the heart of the story, so very attractive and so very eager to get on with life right after they solve the mystery of the wife's recurrent nightmares. Even when Miss Marple cautions them that digging into the past can have nasty repercussions. And oh how right she proves to be. As always.

Oh, and this is the only adaptation of Christie's books (that I remember, anyway) which shows us Miss Marple's very obliging novelist nephew Raymond (and his rather snarly-faced, daunting wife).

NEMESIS (1987) starring Joan Hickson as Miss Marple. An eerie and almost impossible story (thwarted love is the motivation) to transcribe visually, but this is the best version and again, the scenery is superb as Miss Marple takes a bus tour of the English countryside at the behest of a certain newly dead millionaire, Mr. Rafaiel (whom she met in A CARIBBEAN MYSTERY) whose estranged son (living as a hobo) may or may not be a murderer.

Is it possible to fall in love with a green and yellow bus? I did.

Besides the early 20th century streamlined gorgeousness of the bus and the lovely scenery, there's a delightful cast including an addition: a fussy nephew named Lionel played sympathetically by Peter Tilbury. He is not in the book but here he's necessary so that Miss Marple has someone to bounce things off - things that on the written page were her interior surmises. Actually, the story is not especially logical, nor is it very coherent, but on film it is stunning to see and the cast is absolute sheer perfection.

This is definitely one episode which should be accompanied by tea and scones.

A CARIBBEAN MYSTERY (1989) starring Joan Hickson as Miss Marple. The story that introduces us to the grumpy millionaire Jason Rafiel (see above) and which should have been filmed first, but again, I say: why quibble - it all works out in the end. Here the millionaire on holiday in the Caribbean is played by Donald Pleasance. We all probably remember his score of gleeful bad guys in films from the 80's. Here he's a good guy. More or less.

Worried nephew Raymond has sent Miss Marple off on a holiday to Barbados - her health has been wonky lately - for rest and relaxation. But as we all know, where Miss Marple goes, murder is sure to follow.

Here she interrupts the well-laid plans of a serial killer with a defined modus operandi which only Miss Marple is able to spot - just in the nick of time.

I definitely miss the English countryside in this episode, but the cast and story is so good that I can bear symptoms of scenery withdrawal with a stiff upper lip.

Next up:

Besides THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES, the following list is comprised of a few of the PBS Hercule Poirot episodes (and films) I remember and love best (prodded by the list at Netflix and IMDB): There are, of course, others I watch here and there depending on mood, but in general, these are the ones I turn to when I am in search of a definitive Poirot fix:

THE ABC MURDERS (1992) starring David Suchet as Poirot. This is one of my favorite Christie books, so for me to salute the film adaptation is a 'big thing'. I only have one quibble which I will get to shortly, but aside from that, all is well in 'pretend' serial killer land. Christie was the first (at least that I can remember) to use the complex 'trick' of one murder hidden in the midst of several others in order to throw the police off the killer's real motivation. A brilliant stratagem. In the book it is practically impossible to guess the killer's identity until the very end - although once all is revealed, it's head slap time- well, of course! you shout.

I like that Inspector Japp is all over this episode (I love Philip Jackson) as well as Hastings (Hugh Fraser) who seems to me particularly dense in this one - but then he's just come back from the wilds of Argentina (with a stuffed cayman (similar to alligator) as a gift for Poirot) and can be forgiven if he's a bit rusty.

My one quibble is the casting of the killer. Sometimes just from the actor chosen you can get an idea where the story's going and I'm afraid that is the case in this episode. But maybe that's only because I'm so familiar with the whole thing from having read the book many times over the years.

THE ADVENTURE OF THE CLAPHAM COOK (1989) Starring David Suchet as Poirot and Hugh Fraser as Hastings. In which we were first introduced to David Suchet as Hercule Poirot and Hugh Fraser as Hastings. (Oh, happy day!) Here Poirot is humbled into accepting the case of a missing cook (he actually has to go to Clapham, for goodness' sake) and before long is involved in a more heinous crime -  stolen bonds and a garroted body in a trunk.

This is not a whodunit episode as we know early on who the miscreant is, the fun is in the foiling of the plot. And it's also an episode in which the casting duties begin as they mean to go on. In other words, the cast of character actors is superb as it will remain so over the course of the series. Where do they find these wonderful actors?

In this episode, Poirot receives a rather loud rancorous scolding from an ostentatious house-wife and essential info from the adorable below-stairs servant (sweetly played by Katie Murphy). There's also a nice scene stealing turn by Daniel Webb as a weisenheimer railway porter. Not to mention, a last minute chase at the docks for a killer bound for South America but more importantly there's the wonderful scene of Poirot and Hastings trudging about the countryside while a fussy Poirot laments the lack of pavement and states that the country is fine for 'little furry things' but Poirot enjoys the 'good air of the town'. Lovely stuff.

FOUR AND TWENTY BLACKBIRDS (1989) Starring David Suchet as Poirot and Hugh Fraser as Hastings. A favorite of mine primarily because of the spot-on casting and the scene, early on, showing Poirot dining with a friend (his dentist) on roast turkey and all the trimmings. "No French geegaws tonight!" There is such warmth and charm in this scene of two old friends at a restaurant where, coincidentally, they take note of an older gentleman, a well-known artist, who is uncharacteristically breaking his hard and fast rule of 'no thick soup' or 'blackberry crumble'.

You can see I am very big on charm as a component of my Poirot episodes.

I also love watching Poirot and Hastings at the art institute, chatting with a worldly-wise artist's model who just minutes before had been posing nude. The look on Hasting's face is priceless.

"The auburn hair, mon ami, always the auburn hair." 

Though in truth this episode does deviate from the original story in fairly significant ways, it is one of those very rare instances where the television script is actually better than the original short-story source. You will hardly ever hear me say that about Christie.

THE THIRD FLOOR FLAT (1989) Starring David Suchet as Poirot and Hugh Fraser as Hastings. An offbeat episode, it almost all takes place indoors - inside Poirot's apartment house in London - the rather claustrophobic hallway and stairs, a dumb waiter contraption and a flat either above or below Poirot's (can't remember which) where a dead body is discovered.

Poirot, as you know, is fond of  'bright young things' on the make in London, especially when one of them is a lovely and rather ethereal young woman in love with the wrong man. Well, we don't know that, initially, until Poirot steps in - this wise old Belgian does enjoy 're-arranging' the course of true love.

This is one of those episodes that improves upon re-watching by the way.

THE MYSTERY OF THE SPANISH CHEST (1991) Starring David Suchet as Poirot and Hugh Fraser as Hastings. This episode is populated with people one wouldn't really want to know, but that doesn't stop us being fascinated. Here we immediately suspect who the bad guy is going in and while we wait for this repugnant person to get his just deserts, we are mesmerized by a clever plot which is one of Christie's more icky ones. Icky in the way of the murder, that is. Very foul indeed.

In the midst of all the dark doings (a terribly intime crime full of subtle cruelty) we find ourselves smiling at Poirot's evening out with another old friend. She is Lady Chatterton (played delightfully by Antonia Pemberton), a woman of a certain age who has run into Poirot at the opera and requests his help.

We are also privileged to watch Poirot and Lady Chatteron do the Charleston which is one of the highlights of this episode. It is the 1920's after all.

THE INCREDIBLE THEFT (1989) Starring David Suchet as Poirot and Hugh Fraser as Hastings. A mysterious woman in a veil requests Poirot's help in preventing her husband's invention (some sort of airplane guidance thing) from falling into the hands of the Nazis. The setting is the gorgeous English countryside (and you know how much that carries with me) and the time is just before the Brits' official entry into the war with Germany.

The cast and scenery are just plain dazzling. The Nazi sympathizing femme fatale, Mrs. Vanderlyn, is perfectly played by Carmen Du Sautoy, her long slim figure draped in fabulous period clothing. "How English," she says as she appears in a slinky gown on the country house terrace, a late-comer to afternoon tea, "How very, very English."

THE MILLION DOLLAR BOND ROBBERY (1991) starring David Suchet as Poirot and Hugh Fraser as Hastings. The opening credits of this particular episode are wonderfully wrought: a busy throng of business types in black suits and derbies, minions of finance, flow upwards on escalators from the underground, unfurling umbrellas, jostling each other to get to their job destinations in a heavy London rain.

As the name of the episode implies, there will be a million dollar bond robbery but with Hercule Poirot on the scene, the guilty parties will soon be apprehended, all will be well and Hastings will be a wiser man - at least when it comes to the wiles of women.

But not before some heavy-duty obfuscation and the first transatlantic crossing (with appropriate newsreels of the time) of HMS Queen Mary, with Poirot and Hastings on board. This time out, it is poor Hastings who suffers from the 'mal de mer'. The scenes on 'ship-board', as you might expect, are quite delightful.

PERIL AT END HOUSE (1990) Starring David Suchet as Poirot and Hugh Fraser as Hastings. Christie's original story of a particularly heartless murder, is one of her weakest and the cast of characters isn't very likable (this is not a rare occurrence with Christie) but it makes the list because of the spectacular scenery  (Devon standing in for Cornwall) and lavish production values.

I also love the ivory three piece suit Poirot wears for most of the film. Hastings too looks rather natty in his 'casual' attire. Those are good enough reasons for me to watch this one over and over again when I have the idea in my head that I want to visit the English seaside as it might have been once upon a time. Even if the insertion of Miss Lemon who was never more that a couple of sentences in a few of the stories is a bit disconcerting. But Pauline Moran makes a lot out of an essentially thankless role.

This is not a comprehensive list, by any means, but enough to begin with, I think.

Oh, and as a last thought, here are three non-Poirot or Miss Marple films made of Christie's early books which are definitely Top-Notch and worth a look-see:

THE SEVEN DIALS MYSTERY (1981) Starring Sir John Gielgud (who is utterly delightful), Cheryl Campbell, Harry Andrews (as Superintendent Battle) and James Warwick.

WHY DIDN'T THEY ASK EVANS? (1980) Starring Sir John Gielgud (again most delightful), James Warwick and Francesca Annis.

THE SECRET ADVERSARY (1983) Starring Francesca Annis and James Warwick as Tuppence and Tommy Beresford. Our first introduction to the wily crime-solving couple. (Though they don't marry until later.)

I've just discovered that the Kindle edition of THE SECRET ADVERSARY (the first Tommy and Tuppence novel ) is available for FREE at Amazon. Hurry, hurry and get your 'copy'. I just did.

Tuesday's Forgotten (or Overlooked) Film: THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES (1990) starring David Suchet and Hugh Fraser

THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES was not only the first book featuring Hercule Poirot, it was the first book written by the young Mrs. Christie who, I understand, wrote it in a response to a challenge from someone in her family. According to Wikipedia, the actual writing was done during WWI, but the publication came later - 1920 or so.

I'd recently bought the audio version (which was a steal on audio.com) narrated by the wonderful Hugh Fraser and after listening to it, decided to re-watch the 'film' (actually 103 minutes made for television - Season 3, Episode 1 of Agatha Christie: Hercule Poirot which originally aired on PBS) once again, having nothing but happy memories of it.

THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES (1990) was directed by Ross Devenish and 'dramatized' cleverly (perhaps lovingly) by Clive Exton from the novel. Take note that the storyline follows almost completely the original created by Christie (miracle of miracles), no 'improvements' or additional nonsense added except for some scenes early on of Hastings (Hugh Fraser) recovering from shell shock after enduring trench warfare in France. This is implied in the novel but I think the additional footage in the film works very well in establishing who Hastings is and leads very nicely into the story.

I might almost say that this is a lavish production, but let's tone it down to just plain gorgeous and take it from there. The production team of designer Rob Harris, art director Peter Wenham and cinematographer Vernon Layton does a splendid job show-casing the unspoiled English countryside at its loveliest and greenest. While the guns of war are still firing and men are dying across the channel, England seems a kind of lyrical haven for those on leave, left behind or recuperating.

Not only is Hastings' (I adore Hugh Fraser) melancholy 'stiff upper lip' attitude charming, but so is life in a small English village, full of the sorts of things and the kinds of people we all go to Christie for. Add, this time around, a group of Belgian refugees for some exotic flavor and we're all set. Some of the beautifully bucolic scenes might almost be paintings, set up as they are to illustrate a time long gone.

The contrast with the mostly unlikable (as they are in the novel) cast of characters at the heart of the story couldn't be greater as the gentle Hastings meets up with an old friend, John Cavendish (David Rintoul), and is invited to stop at the family home, Styles Court, for continued rest and relaxation.

The rather stiff-necked Cavendish is in a snit (I don't quite understand why he isn't at the front - even if it is explained in passing, I gather he's doing some sort of home-front work) because his elderly mother has married a man twenty years younger than herself - Alfred Inglethorpe (Michael Cronin) - a man whom the rest of the family considers an unprincipled bounder. Well, he wears a bushy black beard and dresses in totally inappropriate funereally dark clothing - what more is there to say? Obviously the man is beyond the pale.

What's worse: Not only is the foolish Mrs. Inglethorpe (Gillian Barge) besotted by her obsequiously doting hubby, she has changed her will so that Alfred will inherit everything except Styles Court and the house in London. John Cavendish gets those, but none of the money. Uh-oh.

John has never really worked, you see - not actual work. Neither has his younger brother Lawrence (Anthony Calf) who has studied medicine but would rather be a poet or writer or something - though he is currently helping out at the local hospital. Both men would benefit from some hard labor far as I can see, but these are the landed gentry of the time and I suppose that was the way of it - the mother rules the roost and controls the money and the sons go along with it. Naturally that leads to resentment and murder. At least in Agatha Christie's world.

Working at the hospital dispensary is another member of the household, young and lovely Cynthia Murdoch (Allie Byrne) who is a kind of protege of Emily Inglethorpe's, an orphan taken in - that sort of thing. Rounding out the inhabitants of Styles Court are John Cavendish's jealously inclined wife Mary (Beatie Edney) who suspects him of hanky-panky with a saucy local widow, and Evie Howard (Joanna McCallum) a general all purpose factotum (tweeds and stout walking shoes) who is not only a long-time friend of Mrs. Inglethorpe's but has her own various duties around the house all the while making sure everyone knows how much she detests the new hubby.

Hastings is bowled over by the beauty of Styles Court as he is soon partaking of all the family's rituals, afternoon tea, tennis, riding (the few horses not commandeered by the army), etc. But he can't help notice the change in his old friend, the tension hanging over the family; there is evil lurking within the bosom of the Cavendish clan. The only problem for us is that these people are just not very likable - as I've mentioned - so that when the old lady is killed - as we know she will be - there's not much sentiment for the family or, for that matter, for us, to feel. These are not people one can cozy up to.

But never mind, once Hercule Poirot (David Suchet) enters the picture - he unexpectedly meets up with his old friend Hastings (they knew each other in Belgium) at a local village tobacco shop - the entire demeanor, the feel of the movie changes. David Suchet has such warmth and charm and is such a likable presence that nothing much else is needed.

Poirot is a refugee, fleeing from his Belgian homeland and the scene in which he and Hastings reconnect is just delightful - 'Mon ami, mon ami!' It always makes me misty to see the affection these two men have for each other. Of course, one can immediately cozy up to them - and later to Inspector Japp (Philip Jackson) - and leave the rest of the characters to fend for themselves. Poirot makes everything fine and dandy.

Once the indefatigable Belgian is on the job, the murderer of Emily Inglethorpe aka Emily Cavendish is as good as done for. But of course it has to be the correct murderer. I mean, everyone knows the husband did it - right? Needless to say, when the wrong person is arrested and tried, it's up to Poirot to straighten everything out. Which of course he does, rounding up all the suspects in one room where, to the consternation and general amazement of all, he then patiently explains what really happened.

This is one of the best adaptations of Chrisite and if you've somehow managed to miss it, then head on over to Netflix where the entire first (and best) seasons (1989 - 1995) of Poirot are currently available for streaming.

Don't forget to check in at Todd Mason's blog, Sweet Freedom, to see what other Forgotten and/or Overlooked Films (and other A/V material) other bloggers are talking about today. As usual, it's an eclectic list.

Forgotten Book Friday: SO MANY STEPS TO DEATH (1955) by Agatha Christie

Friday is Forgotten (or Overlooked) Book day, the weekly meme hosted by Patti Abbott at her blog, Pattinase. So don't forget to take a look at the books other bloggers are talking about today - the links are at Patti's. It's Agatha Christie Day today - plenty of books by the Grand Dame of the Golden Age to think about reading again or even, if you're a late bloomer, for the first time.

SO MANY STEPS TO DEATH (aka DESTINATION UNKNOWN) is a fascinating entry in Agatha Christie's long line of mysteries simply because it's not, technically, a whodunit except that it is. In the end, the 'whodunit' part is slipped in almost as an afterthought. Surprise!

This is one of the few 'spy' thrillers written by Christie - books that work for me just as well as her more 'regular' fare. I am a Christie fanatic, so you can't really go by me, I'm bound to love her books, though of course I have my favorites. SO MANY STEPS TO DEATH is one of them. I've lost track of how many times I've read it over the years. It never fails to capture my imagination.

Hilary Craven is a young English woman whose child has died and whose husband, tired of the unending grief, has left for greener pastures. On the eve of his re-marriage, she flies off to Casablanca, thinking escape. But when there's a mix-up in schedules and she is bumped onto another plane "You will arrive three hours later, that is all, Madame, on the later service." But when the original plane takes off without her only to crash in the desert, we see that fate has stepped in to divert Hilary's path.

She bemoans the fact that she wasn't on the doomed plane for then her troubles would be over and she'd be at peace. Landing in Morocco, Hilary determines to kill herself for the unhappy truth of the matter is, no matter where you go, you take your troubles with you. She is just as miserable in sunny Morocco as she was back in rainy London. So off she goes to buy drugs.

"Hilary had always imagined that drugs were easy to buy in foreign cities. Rather to her surprise, she found that this was not so."

As she goes from pharmacy to pharmacy buying enough sleeping powder to do the job correctly but not to attract too much attention - Hillary does, in fact, come to the attention of Mr. Jessop, an 'owlish' young man buying toothpaste. He follows her to her hotel room and breaks in just as she's putting the finishing touches on her dramatic exit tableau. To Hilary's astonishment he then proceeds to offer her an alternative way out of her misery.

The plot is this: A group of brilliant scientists around the world have been disappearing from their lives and governments are interested to find out the why and wherefore. In this case, the British government wants to know if physicist Thomas Betterton (supposedly dead in a plane crash - there are several fortuitous plane crashes in this book) is actually dead and if not, where the heck is he? Has he joined the other missing scientists somewhere?

Behind the Iron Curtain is a doubtful destination for several reasons and searches made world-wide have turned up only the vague information that something sinister may be afoot. A plot to take over the world? Hey, it was the 1950's - no plot seemed too grandiose.

And what does all this have to do with Hillary Craven?

Well, turns out that Mrs. Thomas Betterton (the missing physicists' beautiful red-headed wife) is being watched for any signs of contact from her hubby. When she suddenly decides to take a trip abroad, the men in the Intelligence Service, i.e. Mr. Jessop (who have been watching and monitoring her) figure that maybe she is headed to meet her husband.

But wait. Come to find out, a few days later, Mrs. Betterton is one of the passengers in the doomed plane crash. The same plane Hillary would have been on had she not been bumped. Are you getting a glimmer now?

Yes, Hilary has brilliant red hair, same as Mrs. Betterton.

Is she willing to take on an assignment from Mr. Jessop and the powers that be, that requires her to impersonate Mrs. Betterton going to join her husband heaven knows where? Mr. Jessop and his minions will try and follow Hillary as she continues her trip (pretending to have survived the crash) and perhaps, rescue her in the nick of time. Maybe. Once she arrives she will, most undoubtedly be unmasked and killed, but that shouldn't matter much to her. Right?

Only Agatha Christie could come up with a plot like this.

What I like best is watching Hilary's gumption return, watching her dormant will to live come back to life. As the adventure deepens and friend and foe become indivisible, she is called upon to use her wits and bravado to help put an end to the most outlandish of plots thought up by a billionaire with a fiendishly clever mind and the money to indulge it.

A terrific book. And as I said, at the end, there is the surprise that makes you realize you were reading a 'whodunit' all along and didn't know it.

Happy Days Are Here Again....lalalalalalalalala!!

Heaven, I'm in heaven,
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.
And I seem to find the happiness I seek,
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.
Irving Berlin

That's how I felt a few days ago, ladies and gentlemen, when I discovered that - are you ready for this? - SEASONS ONE THROUGH SIX OF THE ORIGINALLY WONDERFUL HERCULE POIROT SERIES FOR PBS MYSTERY ARE CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FOR STREAMING ON NETFLIX!!!!

David Suchet and Hugh Fraser return in all their early glory. You know how lackluster I found the later Poirots - when they changed the stories so much they became almost unrecognizable AND Hugh Fraser as Hastings was nowhere to be seen, not to mention, the utterly wonderful Philip Jackson as Japp and Pauline Moran as Miss Lemon. I mean, really!

This is an embarrassment of riches, my friends:

Especially since I'd forgotten many of the episodes, so it will be like watching again for the first time.

Off the top of my head, here are a few that do stand out in my almost depleted old lady memory bank:

THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES - Christie's first ever Poirot book! This has the wonderful scene where Poirot and Hastings meet up again after many years. Poirot is a WWI Belgian refugee in this and Hastings is a recuperating shell-shocked soldier. Who poisoned the rich, cantankerous old lady?

PERIL AT END HOUSE - a beautifully produced version very close to the book and photographed in a gorgeous area of the English coast. Who is trying to kill the very sympathetic and beautiful heroine?

DEATH IN THE CLOUDS - with the nasty wasp sting that wasn't. Poirot must solve a murder that takes place in front of his and every other passenger's eye on board a plane.

ONE TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE - one of my favorites that begs the question: do the ends ever justify the means?

DUMB WITNESS - this was changed quite a bit from the original story, but the setting is so typically English country-side dreamy and the terrier dog is so cute, I never minded.

HERCULE POIROT'S CHRISTMAS - the episode in which Poirot must show a nouveau riche family, at the dinner table, how to carve a mango - I think. That's what I remember anyway. If this is the Simeon Lee episode, then it has the same villain trick as in Christie's play, THE MOUSE TRAP.

There are 32 ORIGINAL EPISODES in addition to the 10 episodes of Season One which we talked about a few months ago. Link to my original post.

42 EPISODES OF EARLY POIROT AND CAPTAIN HASTINGS AND CHIEF INSPECTOR JAPP AND MISS LEMON for viewing whenever I feel like it....You wonder that I'm in heaven??

Poirot and the always sartorially correct Captain Hastings. A wonderfully funny scene from THE ADVENTURE OF THE CLAPHAM COOK (Season One) where Poirot extols the virtues of the 'good air of the town' as opposed to the discomfort and bucolic air of the countryside which, for him, is merely a place for 'trees and furry little things.' 

Captain Hastings, Poirot and Chief Inspector Japp of Scotland Yard. Still from THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES, I believe.

Pauline Moran as Miss Lemon who really doesn't have much to do in the books, but whose role was somewhat increased in the early episodes.


The charming duo of Calvin and Hobbes (shown at the very top of the post) are the creations of American cartoonist Bill Watterson.

A Bit of Agatha Christie On A Beautiful Sunny Day in April.

One of many reasons why I adore Dame Agatha's writing:

(The following is an interlude between dead bodies at the English Country estate of Lord Caterham where a body with a bullet in it has just been discovered by a maid. The police are on the scene, Lord Caterham plans on leaving all the details in their hands as well as in those of George Lomax (known as Codders), a government toady who is on his way over from a neighboring estate. The dead man was an important and very hush-hush dignitary.)

"Well," said Lord Caterham, eager to escape, "I'll leave you here, Inspector. You'll be able to find me if you - er - want me. But Mr. George Lomax is coming over from Wyvern Abbey shortly, and he'll be able to tell you far more than I could. It's his business really. I can't explain, but he will when he comes."


Lord Caterham beat a precipitate retreat without waiting for a reply. "Too bad for Lomax," he complained. "Letting me in for this. What's the matter, Tredwell?"


The white-haired butler was hovering deferentially at his elbow. "I have taken the liberty, my lord, of advancing the breakfast hour as far as you are concerned. Everything is ready in the dining room."


"I don't suppose for a minute I can eat anything," said Lord Caterham gloomily, turning his footsteps in that direction. "Not for a moment."


Bundle [Caterham's daughter] slipped her hand through his arm, and they entered the dining room together. On the sideboard were half a score of heavy silver dishes, ingeniously kept hot by patent arrangements.


"Omelet," said Lord Caterham, lifting each lid in turn. "Eggs and bacon, kidneys, deviled bird, haddock, cold ham, cold pheasant. I don't like any of these things, Tredwell. Ask the cook to pouch me an egg, will you?"


"Very good, my lord."


Tredwell withdrew. Lord Caterham, in an absent-minded fashion, helped himself plentifully to kidneys and bacon, poured himself out a cup of coffee, and sat down at the long table. Bundle was already busy with a plateful of eggs and bacon.


"I'm damned hungry," said Bundle with her mouth full. "It must be the excitement."


"It's all very well for you," complained her father. "You young people like excitement. But I'm in a very delicate state of health. Avoid all worry, that's what Sir Abner Willis said - avoid all worry. So easy for a man sitting his consulting room in Harley Street to say that. How can I avoid worry when that ass Lomax lands me with a thing like this?..."


With a sad shake of the head, Lord Caterham rose and carved himself a plate of ham.


"Codders has certainly done it this time," observed Bundle cheerfully. "He was almost incoherent over the telephone. He'll be here in a minute or two spluttering nineteen to the dozen about discretion and hushing it up."


Lord Caterham groaned at the prospect. "Was he up?" he asked.


"He told me," replied Bundle, "that he had been up and dictating letters and memoranda ever since seven o'clock."


"Proud of it, too," remarked her father. "Extraordinarily selfish, these public men. They make their wretched secretaries get up at the most unearthly hours in order to dictate rubbish to them. If a law was passed compelling them to stop in bed until eleven, what a benefit it would be to the nation! I wouldn't mind so much if they didn't talk such balderdash. Lomax is always talking to me of my 'position.' As if I had any. Who wants to be a peer nowadays?"


"Nobody," said Bundle. "They'd much rather keep a prosperous public house."


Tredwell reappeared silently with two poached eggs in a little silver dish which he placed on the table in front of Lord Caterham. "What's that, Tredwell?" said the latter, looking at them with faint distaste.


"Poached eggs, my lord."


"I hate poached eggs," said Lord Caterham peevishly. "They're so insipid. I don't like to look at them even. Take them away, will you Tredwell?"


"Very good, my lord." Tredwell and the poached eggs withdrew as silently as they had come.


The book was published in 1925, only Christie's sixth mystery. But I don't even mind the adverbs. I am in love with Lord Caterham. He is one of the few men in literature that I would willingly marry. Ha!


I've lost track of how many times I've read THE SECRET OF CHIMNEYS, but I suspect I'm not done yet.

Vintage Mysteries Reading Challenge 2012 - Review: THREE BLIND MICE by Agatha Christie

I hadn't read this collection of Christie short stories in many years so I think reading it again qualifies for Bev's Vintage Mystery Reading Challenge. I have the old Dell version (cover shown above) but I have to hold it very carefully as some of the pages are falling out. I love these old Dell copies.

Anyway, this collection is a mixed bag of stories featuring not only Hercule Poirot, Jane Marple, Mr. Satterthwaite and Harley Quinn, but also the stand-alone THREE BLIND MICE which gives the collection its name.

According to Les Blatt, one of our favorite vintage mystery bloggers, THREE BLIND MICE was written after a radio production of the same name - originally created for Queen Mary by Christie - had aired. She then expanded the earlier radio piece into a three act play, THE MOUSETRAP - which has been running now for sixty years!

I was lucky enough to see a production of it in the 80's while in London and enjoyed it very much. Though I knew the ending, I was still caught up in the mystery and suspense.

A couple of the stories in this collection have been turned into excellent PBS Mysteries, all done in the early years of David Suchet's reign when the producers were staying true to the stories.

This particular group is available for instant streaming on Netflix. My favorites of that year are FOUR AND TWENTY BLACKBIRDS and THE THIRD-FLOOR FLAT. Just wonderfully done even if a few odds and ends are added to fatten out the stories. Never mind a bit of that if it makes sense and stays in tune with the characters. In truth both of these stories are actually better in the filmed versions than on the page. Both very visually interesting, both having Captain Hastings added to the mix.

In the short story collection, I enjoyed THE TAPE MEASURE MURDER very much. It features a well-known murder mystery trick which has been used over and over in the years since Christie was turning out her wonderful stories. It's a very tidy murder.

THREE BLIND MICE I didn't like as much as I remembered because the two main characters, Giles and Molly, a newly married couple, are just so 'limp'. (They work better in the play.) And the 'surprise' ending has also been used often enough since then. But  I did like Mr. Paravicini, the black market 'Santa Claus.'

THE THIRD FLOOR FLAT is also a good, quick read. Murder in the very same London apartment building in which Poirot has a flat. It is a pleasure reading (or watching) Poirot interact with some 'bright young things'. Very touching watching David Suchet's face as he wistfully looks at one of the beautiful girls involved in the case. Suchet is such a thinking actor. I simply adore him.

Then I noticed that the last story in this collection, THE LOVE DETECTIVES has the very same murderer's trick as in the Jane Marple novel, THE BODY IN THE LIBRARY. Though the short story features Mr. Satterthwaite and Harley Quinn, the most enigmatic of Christie's creations.

It's obvious to me that Christie often expanded on ideas she would use in her short stories. EVIL UNDER THE SUN is a primary example. (Though the short story TRIANGLE AT RHODES is not included in this collection.)

STRANGE JEST, one of the Jane Marple stories that is included, uses the very same clever  'hidden' treasure trick as was used in the Audrey Hepburn, Cary Grant film, CHARADE. I wonder if the screenwriter read Agatha Christie?

Tuesday's Overlooked Films: Double Feature. SEVEN DIALS MYSTERY and WHY DIDN'T THEY ASK EVANS?

This is my entry today in Tuesday's Overlooked (or Forgotten) Films, a weekly meme hosted by Todd Mason at his blog, SWEET FREEDOM. Don't forget to check out the list of other participating bloggers at Todd's website.

Both of these films are based on early Agatha Christie books and both were adapted years before some mis-guided masterminds began changing all of Christie's plots to suit who know what agenda. So they are both faithful to Christies books. A very refreshing thing.

A second thing both movies have in common is that the inside scenes were filmed on video and the outside scenes on film. Is that possible? Well, that's what it looks like. So I'm assuming both of these were for meant for television and not the big screen.

A third thing these films have in common is that they both star James Warwick. In one he plays the good guy and in the other he plays the bad.

A fourth thing these two movies have in common is that they both feature the inimitable John Gielgud. I am mad about Gielgud.

A fifth thing both these stories have in common is that both feature 'dying words'.

A sixth thing both stories have in common is that neither of them feature Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple.

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WHY DIDN'T THEY ASK EVANS? features a cameo by Joan Hickson who (as we know), would go on to play the best Miss Marple of them all. In this story, she is the antithesis of Marple.

Both films are currently available on Netflix streaming, so they're easy enough to find. You might also be able to watch them on youtube.

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SEVEN DIALS MYSTERY (1981) directed by Tony Wharmby, starring Sir John Gielgud, Cheryl Campbell, James Warwick, Harry Andrews and Lucy Gutteridge is an absolute delight from start to finish. It's all about a preposterous, secret organization known as The Seven Dials.

Whether they are heroes or villains we won't find out until the end, but in the meantime the death of two of Lady Eileen 'Bundle' Brent's friends - both young men murdered most foully - brings her in contact with this most mysterious of organizations.

Cheryl Campbell

Bundle Brent is played by the ultra wonderful Cheryl Campbell. She is the epitome of the charming if slightly ditzy, devil-may-care British aristocrat. She is not above involving herself in a whodunit when a friend of hers is found dead at the family estate much to the chagrin of her father, the Marquise who'd rented the house out to Sir Oswald (Leslie Sands) and Lady Coote (Joyce Redman). The Marquise very much resents the idea of a stranger dying in his home.

Bundle's father, the Marquise of Caterham (John Gielgud) is the epitome of the elderly, fun loving, slightly dotty aristocrat. A part tailor maid for Gielgud who has tremendous fun with it. I especially love seeing him in his plaid country woolens and plus fours.

When a second friend of Bundle's is shot (but not before Bundle almost hits him with her car) and his dying words mention The Seven Dials, there's no stopping her from becoming involved in the hunt for a master criminal. In this hunt she has the aid of Jimmy Thesiger (James Warwick), Bill Eversleigh (Christopher Scoular) and Lorraine Wade (Lucy Gutteridge). These fashionable young things (as they were known back then) run about looking for clues, getting into trouble and playing amateur detective to the hilt, much to the chagrin of Superintendent Battle (Harry Andrews) who tries to keep things from getting out of hand.

But out of hand they get when Bundle hides herself in a closet inside a club so she can overhear - and see through a peephole - the goings on at a meeting of the Seven Dials. The seven members wear black hoods with gold clock faces on them - they themselves do not know (except for Number 7) the identities of the others. (I said it was preposterous.) I believe this story was written by Christie when so-called secret organizations were all the rage.

Rula Lenska - remember her? - has a bit part as a myterious Countess. She is really quite good.

English country houses, butlers, the upper classes, great clothes, great cars, bits of stylishly hambone overacting and murder - a great deal of fun is had by all.

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WHY DIDN'T THEY ASK EVANS? (1980) directed by John Davies and Tony Wharmby, starring James Warwick, Sir John Gielgud and Francesca Annis is another absolute delight - don't know what else to call these two films BUT Absolute, Sparkling Delights. This is my favorite era for mysteries and with these brilliant casts of actors, you can't go wrong.

This time out, the action takes place in Wales as well as the English countryside. John Gielgud plays  Reverend Jones, a persnickety country vicar, who despairs that his son Bobby (not the golfer) played by James Warwick, will never amount to anything.

While out playing bad golf with a friend, Dr. Thomas (Bernard Miles), one day on the local cliffs, Bobby hears a cry and almost immediately discovers the body of a man who has fallen off the cliffs onto the rocks below. When Bobby and the doctor run down to see if they can be of any help, it's too late. The man is only minutes away from death - his back is broken.

The doctor dashes off to town to fetch the necessaries and Bobby stays behind not liking to leave the poor man lying alone, dashed on the rocks.

Suddenly the man groans, briefly opens his eyes and says, "Why didn't they ask Evans?" Then he dies.

Seconds later, another man overlooks the cliffs and asks if he can help - should he come down? Bobby says it's too late, the man's dead. But the other scampers down the path anyway. He identifies himself as Roger Bassington-ffrench (Leigh Lawson), just down from town looking for a house to rent.

Bobby hates to ask him a favor, but does anyway. He has to rush off (to play the organ for his father at afternoon services) and would Bassington-ffrench mind staying with the body until the doctor returns. Roger says that of course, he wouldn't mind and Bobby rushes off, arriving late, clanking into church in his golf shoes, but swiftly settling himself at the organ.

The expressions on the vicar's face (John Gielgud) as his son Bobby clumps to the organ are so hilarious to watch. This scene alone is worth the price of admission.

And so begins the adventure of a lifetime for the hapless Bobby, whom enemies will soon try to get out of the way with 8 grams of morphine.

But I'm getting ahead of myself as usual.

The next day, while Bobby is traveling to London by train to take up with another of his friend Badger Beadon's (Robert Longden) failing enterprises - this time revamping gunky second hand cars - he trips (literally) over another friend, Lady Frances Derwent (Francesca Annis) - known as Frankie -when he falls into her first class carriage.

Francesca Annis as Frankie Derwent.

While they're reacquainting themselves, she asks about the dead man who toppled off the cliff. She's been reading about it in the papers. Once Bobby tells her that he was in '...at the death, so to speak." She wants to know all the details. The paper failed to mention Bobby's name.

Later, at the inquest, all sorts of questions go unanswered and a verdict of 'death by misadventure' is brought in. Frankie suspects foul play.

Especially when the dead man's sister, who has shown up to identify the body, seems all wrong. (The English class system in play.) Bobby realizes that she simply cannot be the sister whose photo he originally saw in the dead man's shirt pocket.

Most especially when shortly thereafter Bobby is almost done to death by morphine.

Frankie thinks Roger Bassington-ffrench could bear some looking into. But Bobby's not so sure. He's the hesitant type. Frankie is the full speed ahead type.

Not one to let the grass grow under her feet, Frankie has arranged to have an 'accident' right in front of the gates of the large house in the country where Bassington-ffrench (gotta' love that name!) is currently staying. The house belongs to his brother Henry (James Cossins), a troubled man who lives there with his wife and young son.

Frankie explains that since she has a title - "Very useful things, titles," she will likely be asked to stay while she 'recovers' from her car crash. (She's brought a doctor friend along to insist she can't be moved. She's thought of everything.) And while she's a 'guest' at the house, she can sleuth.

Francesca Annis and James Warwick.

Later, Bobby shows up masquerading as her chauffeur. "No one ever looks at chauffeurs."

Well, long story short: It just so happens that right next door to the Bassington-ffrench house is a sanatorium for drug addicts, run by the very mysterious Doctor Nicholson (Eric Porter) who wears the creepiest round, thick eyeglasses and whose beautiful young wife goes about in fear of her life. Just the usual.

No one named Evans, though.

Little by little, as the mystery unfolds and another particularly beastly murder occurs, it becomes obvious that the death of the man on the cliff was put into motion long ago but is connected to more recent events under investigation by Bobby and Frankie. Events which propel the two amateurs on a dangerous journey which, unexpectedly, leads them back home.

I defy anyone to know who Evans is and how very wise of Agatha Christie to make the character, under our very noses early on, truly the least likely.

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Note: The two versions I saw on Netflix appear to have a few scenes which I'd not seen before when I watched old videos of the films.

Agatha Christie Vintage Covers: You know you love them.

This is my second entry this month in the Agatha Christie Carnival hosted by Kerrie Smith over at her blog, MYSTERIES IN PARADISE. I thought you'd like to see more Vintage Christie book covers just for the heck of it. Again I ask: why aren't modern day dust jackets as much wicked fun as these?

I wish someone would put together a museum exhibit of the artwork from old mystery book covers. That would be something really special. It might take real detective work to track down the artwork and get the covers all together in one place. But I don't think it would be impossible.

I'll Take Vintage: Great Agatha Covers

Time once again for more Vintage Mystery Covers. If you read this blog then you know I'm not only crazy about Vintage Mysteries, but also about the wonderfully graphic covers that usually accompanied them once upon a time. I'll look for any excuse to post some vintage covers. This time out, I'm posting Great Vintage Agatha Covers as an entry in the monthly Agatha Christie Carnival hosted by Kerrie Smith over at her blog, MYSTERIES IN PARADISE. Every month various bloggers post Agatha Christie opinion pieces, reviews, covers or anything else Agatha-related that strikes their fancy. I hope you'll take a look.

Are these covers fun or what?

Crime Fiction Alphabet - LETTER P = Poirot

The Crime Fiction Alphabet is a weekly meme hosted by Kerrie at her bloc, MYSTERIES IN PARADISE. This week's letter is P. Don't forget to check this link to see who is participating this week and what books or topics they've chosen.

For me, the letter P means Hercule Poirot, none other. Poirot was first introduced to us in Agatha Christie's debut, THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES. He was then a Belgian refugee, a retired policeman, who runs into his friend Captain Hastings and helps solve an 'unsolvable' crime.

From then on there was no stopping Poirot. If there was a celebrated crime usually among the British upper crust, then Poirot was on the job. His French...uh, Belgian, mannerisms duly noted by his often amused patrons who looked at his fussy dressing, his patent leather shoes, his egg-shaped head, and most of all, his waxed mustaches, with some derision. Derision which turned to respect when Poirot gathered everyone in a room and named the murderer.

Poirot's reliance on his 'little grey cells' and his belief in his own infallibility grew wearisome at times, but mostly he delivered the goods and who can quarrel with success? I loved the character even if Christie herself got tired of him and bemoaned the day she thought him up with all his little quirks and peculiarities AND Belgian, to boot. She made fun of him in several books, through her character Ariadne Oliver - fictional mystery writer - and her eccentric Norwegian detective.

But Poirot became a fixture, at least in my world. I found him strangely attractive and sympathetic, even with his out-sized ego and odd appearance. I've always admired brains in men, even men who wore patent leather shoes in all sorts of weather.

My favorite Hercule Poirot books, then and now:

THE ABC MURDERS

CAT AMONG THE PIGEONS

CARDS ON THE TABLE

HALLOWE'EN MURDER

MURDER IN MESOPOTAMIA

DEATH IN THE CLOUDS

ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE

DEATH ON THE NILE

MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS

MRS. McGINTY'S DEAD

The best portrayer of Poirot in films? In my opinion, David Suchet, without a single doubt. Suchet was born to play Poirot. He 'gets' him perfectly. Suchet uses his eyes as all great actors on film, do, to express thought, intelligence and sympathy.

On the other hand, Peter Ustinov, despite playing him in three films (EVIL UNDER THE SUN, APPOINTMENT WITH DEATH and DEATH ON THE NILE), was just physically TOO BIG and generally too unsympathetic, more a bon-vivant than a detective. Although I did enjoy the unexpected view of Ustinov in a bathing suit and matching cap in EVIL UNDER THE SUN, a fun film with Maggie Smith, Diana Rigg, Jane Birkin and Sylvia Miles - all wonderful. What I remember best about that film are the beautiful opening credits featuring gorgeous watercolors, the Cole Porter music and the terrific cinematography - filmed in Majorca, how could they go wrong? A better screenplay would have helped, but hey, you can't have everything.

Albert Finney as Poirot in MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS didn't do it for me either. He was just too, too...I don't know, TOO something or other. Too unlikable, I think. Also that hair net - did we really need to see that? But with a great rest-of-the-cast and director - Sidney Lumet - the film is still a very good one. Okay, I admit it, I'm not a fan of Albert Finney in anything, so sue me. He was horrible in the last Bourne film, but that's another story for another day.

My Favorite Reads: THE MAN IN THE BROWN SUIT by Agatha Christie

I'm meaning this post for the March edition of the Agatha Christie Carnival hosted by Kerrie over at MYSTERIES IN PARADISE. Every month, the Carnival has a great listing of links to other Agatha Christie inspired reviews and info. If you have any interest in the work of Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery, it's fun to take a look. This month's Carnival debuts on March 24th.

THE MAN IN THE BROWN SUIT is early Christie (1924) and one of my favorites. A book that, for whatever reason, I never tire of re-reading. A terrific book for when you're feeling ill or out-of-sorts or need general cheering up OR are just in the mood for a good mystery/caper. For me, reading THE MAN IN THE BROWN SUIT is like visiting an old friend whose company I've been missing.

The heroine of the plot, Anne Beddingfeld is a young, plucky English girl - Agatha Christie created dozens of this type, take your pick, this is a particularly good one. She is a country lass whose paleontologist father ( ...one of England's greatest living authorities on Primitive Man.) has recently died and left Anne alone in the world, in need of earning a living. Well, Anne has always wanted to see the world so off to London she goes, hopeful of landing something that will lead to 'adventure'.

My affairs did not progress very fast. The house and furniture had been sold, and the amount realized had just covered our debts. As yet, I had not been successful in finding a post. Not that I really wanted one! I had the firm conviction that, if I went about looking for adventure, adventure would meet me halfway. It is a theory of mine that one always gets what one wants.

Anne's theory proves correct: on the way home from another fruitless job interview - she is temporarily staying with the family of her father's lawyer in London - she is witness to a horrible incident on the underground line. The death of a man who has fallen onto the third rail and been electrocuted.

From that moment, Anne's life will never be the same. She surmises that somehow the death was no mere accident. This, coupled with the mysterious presence on the platform of a deeply tanned man in a brown suit behaving suspiciously (while claiming to be a doctor), sets Anne Beddingfeld off on the adventure of a lifetime. All because a piece of paper and a man's suit both smelled of mothballs. Then shortly thereafter, there is the dead body of a woman found in an empty cottage. A cottage (owned by Sir Eustace Pedler M.P. who was abroad at the time) in which the same man with a deep tan seen by Anne on the underground, has been spotted by a witness.

While all of London and the cops are looking for 'the man in the brown suit', Anne finagles a job with a newspaper and is soon onboard a ship bound for Cape Town, South Africa. (!) Onboard are all sorts of interesting characters as you would imagine, including the always mysterious and attractive Christie creation, Colonel Race, also the beautiful and wealthy Mrs. Blair, who befriends Anne and becomes her cohort in conspiracy. Sir Eustace Pedler M.P. (coincidentally, the same Sir Eustace who owns the cottage in which the dead woman was found) on a minor diplomatic mission is traveling with his grim-faced secretary. Also on board a missionary who doesn't act like a missionary and a few other assorted characters. Just enough to make for a nice selection of suspects when danger lurks as, of course, it will.

The book is divided between Anne's first person account AND the entertaining journal pages of fellow traveler, Sir Eustace Pedler:

It is an extraordinary thing that I never seem to get any peace. I am a man who likes a quiet life. I like my Club, my rubber of Bridge, a well-cooked meal, a sound wine. I like England in the summer, and the Riviera in the winter. I have no desire to participate in sensational happenings. Sometimes, in front of a good fire, I do not object to reding about them in the newspaper. But that is as far as I am willing to go. My object in life is to be thoroughly comfortable. I have devoted a certain amount of thought and a considerable amount of money, to further that end. But I cannot say that I always succeed. If things to do actually happen to me, they happen around me, and frequently, in spite of myself, I become involved. I hate being involved.

Pedler is one of Agatha Chrisite's more inspired creations and despite his faults, one of my favorite characters.

Onboard ship, when a small package is thrust through Anne's cabin window in the middle of one night AND on another night, a mysterious and attractive young man (with a deep tan) bursts into the cabin, wounded and needing help, the adventure threatens to overwhelm Anne. But only just. Ever resourceful, she manages beautifully. From that moment on, though, not only is she in fear for her life, but her heart has been touched as well.

(An incident like this was also instrumental to the plot in one of my other favorite Agatha Christie stories: THEY CAME TO BAGHDAD, but with rather a different outcome.)

After the ship docks in Cape Town, Anne Beddingfeld must go through several incredible trials and dangerous tribulations, including kidnapping, before the truth is known, the bad guy revealed and all claims of the heart are settled to everyone's satisfaction. Not bad for a country lass who'd never been out of England before.

There's no getting around it. I love this book.