Well, well, well. Hadn’t expected that at all. I had expected a slight problem deciding which to watch and which to record, when Poirot came head-to-head with Branagh’s Wallander on Sunday night. But when discussing the logistics, it soon became evident that the witch household wanted to watch Poirot, and could see no point in even recording Branagh.
So we settled down to our third fresh Agatha Christie in eight days. The Christmas effect…
Martin Shaw was lovely, despite being the one who did it. In fact, he was lovelier than he usually is, so maybe we want him bad more often. (Though how on earth can you have a retired actor going round doing the work of the police? Private detective I can understand, but an idiotic actor?)
And Art Malik. He could have hung around a bit longer before snuffing it.
This was pretty good, and didn’t feel as silly as some ITV ‘based on’ episodes. I watched the Peter Ustinov and Tony Curtis film not long ago, and that really was weird. Tony Curtis was running around wearing shorts most of the time, so Martin Shaw was far more dignified. I almost wanted him to get away with it.