Growing up in a house furnished with the complete written works of Agatha Christie made me a fan of the whodunnit genre from a young age. My mum, an unabashed fan of criminal narratives and detective stories, made sure I was familiar with the figure of Hercule Poirot and, eventually, I too became a fan. While we've long spent joyful evenings sharing our love for the adventures of Belgium's most excellent fictional investigator, we don't always agree about this entertainment.
For instance, our idea of who the perfect on-screen Poirot differs significantly. Her heart belongs to David Suchet's book-faithful incarnation, while I prefer Peter Ustinov's joyful take on the same character. On the centennial of the the two-time Oscar-winning thespian, I thought I could elaborate on why Ustinov is my perfect Poirot…
MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS (1974)In 1974, EMI Films had a smash hit on their hands with Sidney Lumet's adaptation of Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. The film represented the third time Hercule Poirot appeared on the big screen, and it proved that the third time really is the charm. However, that movie's leading man wasn't willing to return for a sequel. Albert Finney did get a Best Actor nomination for his heavily-accented performance. Still, he wasn't thrilled at the idea of getting back into the thick makeup and fat suits necessary to portray Poirot. It was already pretty hard to do so inside a chilled studio and snowbound landscapes. To imagine doing it in the sunny margins of the river Nile was downright unbearable.
And so, for the big-budget movie adaptation of Christie's second most beloved Poirot novel, the producers had to find another star. That's where Peter Ustinov comes in. The thought process was that if they couldn't get Finney, the filmmakers might as well go for a completely different performer, a character actor capable of shedding new light into the classic character. Ustinov did that and more, though his approach horrified some Christie purists, including the author's daughter. When Rosalind Hicks saw one of Ustinov's auditions, she proclaimed that whatever he was doing, it was not Poirot. The cheeky screen veteran had a good answer ready: "He is now!"
DEATH ON THE NILE (1978)Indeed, Ustinov's Poirot isn't like the detective that Finney breathed life into, nor is he the man immortalized on the page. Instead of a saturnine and methodological master of deduction, the actor made Hercule Poirot into a joyful bon vivant who often seems to be having as much fun with his case as the audience's having while watching him. Instead of ponderous and heavy-footed, 1978's Death on the Nile becomes a different kind of whodunnit when Ustinov's on-screen. It's sillier, self-knowingly so, overtly willing to indulge in absurdity, saccharine entertainment, and even a penchant for the sentimental. It's hard to imagine Finney's Poirot getting heartbroken over a criminal tragedy, but Ustinov is able to add a twist of melancholy to the mystery's denouement.
He's a more demonstrative figure, able to negotiate the extremes of the plot with comedic fluidity rather than brittle dramatics. Sure, it's not the Poirot of the books, but I have the books for that. Better yet, if I want to see a faithful adaptation, I have 70 episodes of the David Suchet-starring series to observe. Ustinov's Poirot achieves a peculiar synergy with the films he's in, turning the detective into an accomplice of the audience rather than a portentous showman. He invites us into the plots rather than presenting them with alienating grandeur, actively offering a different experience than the books, justifying the mere existence of his Poirot movies in one swoop of inspired playacting. While it might not be to everybody's tastes, I love it.
EVIL UNDER THE SUN (1982)
Another factor that makes me adore Ustinov's Poirot is that, by a wide margin, he's the best-dressed version of the detective ever captured in film. Anthony Powell won an Oscar for his designs in Death on the Nile, where he dressed a sprawling cast in the most fabulous 1930s couture you can imagine. Rather than avoiding the absurdities that démodé fashions can inspire, Powell embraced them, weaving humor out of Angela Lansbury's Paul Poiret-esque taste for Middle-Eastern motifs or Maggie Smith's butch splendor. When it came time for Ustinov's Poirot to return, so did Powell, making Evil Under the Sun an even greater sartorial circus. Imagine the heights of 80s maximalism crashing headfirst into the face of pre-war style, and you might get an idea of what we're dealing with. Furthermore, Ustinov gets to model some of the most outrageous swimming wear.
APPOINTMENT WITH DEATH (1988)
Those two films are gems, precious jewels of comedic whodunnits which always paint a broad smile on my face whenever I re-watch them. If I'm feeling down, I know that I can turn to these movies for an instant pick-me-up, a good laugh, a delightful evening. The third movie of Ustinov's tenure of Poirot is less good, but there's still some charm in Appointment with Death. Three made-for-TV films transplant Ustinov's Belgium detective to the present day. Their quality is inconsistent, but there's a lot of campy fun to be had watching Ustinov face-off against Faye Dunaway in a double role or Tony Curtis at the peak of his autumnal charisma. Come watch these productions for the appeal of a well-told Agatha Christie lark, stay for Ustinov's cinema of joy and the clownish dandyism with which he's outfitted. You won't be disappointed.
What about you, dear reader? Who's your favorite Hercule Poirot?