Much as I've loved Ustinov's wit and other talents, I never found him convincing as Poirot and I don't here. He is physically wrong: too large. I am with those who find David Suchet the more successful personification.
Next, Hastings. This man was made a Captain in the British army and (according to remarks given to Poirot in this movie, anyway) had connections with "the Secret Service", yet poor Jonathan Cecil's face seems fixed as a blank rather moronic smile. For the first half hour, though obviously much of this is down to the screenplay and direction, he merely follows Poirot about with a face and body language that suggest he is merely trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, like an extra playing a waiter in a denouement scene staged in a restaurant. When, out of the blue, Poirot instructs him to "use your influence on your old friends at the Secret Service", Cecil as Hastings stands there listening to him with an expression that merely says he is waiting for Ustinov to finish saying the line. Whoever did his hair did a poor job too: the cut is all wrong and it looks dyed on top and grey and the almost non-existent temple sideburns as though an amateur trying to do his own makeup for a village hall play.
The many other characters seem competently enough played to me, for a middling quality TV movie; the screenplay and direction -- and I haven't the time to go back to Christie to see how much was from her -- but there are quite a few odd and unconvincing details.
Poirot picks out some foreign young man from the youth hostel nearby and starts uttering remarks in Russian to him. I can't imagine Poirot doing this, and put it down to the fact that this is Ustinov we are watching. In the grand denouement scene we get some sort of explanation of this Soviet presence, but as the young man never gives Poirot (or us, anyway) any sign that he understands this or is Russian, we are left to take it on trust that Poirot knew as if by magic that this man was Russian and why he was there.
I was unaware until the denouement scene of who all the apparently miscellaneous people in the house party were, and in particular that there was an unhappily married couple among them. The introductions when Poirot and Hastings arrive, and the comings and goings at the breakfast scene on the morning of the main event (the funfair in the gardens), are just a muddle from the audience's point of view.
Cranham as Bland was just that. Presumably driven by the screenplay, this detective was almost sycophantic in his toleration of Poirot's assistance. Whether this was Christie or Rod Browning's doing, it struck an improbable note with me. So did the fact that not only Poirot, Hastings, and Mrs Oliver followed Bland and the uniformed policemen around, but the secretary Amanda Brewis did as well. Why was she in on all the interrogations? Given her unnatural devotion to her boss (she was quite clearly extremely jealous of Lady Stubbs), she should have been a suspect!
My impression when it was over was of a very weak production with some quite feeble acting and a screenplay that struggled to contain and present all the characters. It sounds false whenever one is given the feeling that this is a bunch of actors standing around on camera, all waiting for each bit of someone else's dialogue to stop before they say their bit.
Still, the location scenery was wonderful, as a reminder of a grand English country house worthy of National Trust preservation...
Next, Hastings. This man was made a Captain in the British army and (according to remarks given to Poirot in this movie, anyway) had connections with "the Secret Service", yet poor Jonathan Cecil's face seems fixed as a blank rather moronic smile. For the first half hour, though obviously much of this is down to the screenplay and direction, he merely follows Poirot about with a face and body language that suggest he is merely trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, like an extra playing a waiter in a denouement scene staged in a restaurant. When, out of the blue, Poirot instructs him to "use your influence on your old friends at the Secret Service", Cecil as Hastings stands there listening to him with an expression that merely says he is waiting for Ustinov to finish saying the line. Whoever did his hair did a poor job too: the cut is all wrong and it looks dyed on top and grey and the almost non-existent temple sideburns as though an amateur trying to do his own makeup for a village hall play.
The many other characters seem competently enough played to me, for a middling quality TV movie; the screenplay and direction -- and I haven't the time to go back to Christie to see how much was from her -- but there are quite a few odd and unconvincing details.
Poirot picks out some foreign young man from the youth hostel nearby and starts uttering remarks in Russian to him. I can't imagine Poirot doing this, and put it down to the fact that this is Ustinov we are watching. In the grand denouement scene we get some sort of explanation of this Soviet presence, but as the young man never gives Poirot (or us, anyway) any sign that he understands this or is Russian, we are left to take it on trust that Poirot knew as if by magic that this man was Russian and why he was there.
I was unaware until the denouement scene of who all the apparently miscellaneous people in the house party were, and in particular that there was an unhappily married couple among them. The introductions when Poirot and Hastings arrive, and the comings and goings at the breakfast scene on the morning of the main event (the funfair in the gardens), are just a muddle from the audience's point of view.
Cranham as Bland was just that. Presumably driven by the screenplay, this detective was almost sycophantic in his toleration of Poirot's assistance. Whether this was Christie or Rod Browning's doing, it struck an improbable note with me. So did the fact that not only Poirot, Hastings, and Mrs Oliver followed Bland and the uniformed policemen around, but the secretary Amanda Brewis did as well. Why was she in on all the interrogations? Given her unnatural devotion to her boss (she was quite clearly extremely jealous of Lady Stubbs), she should have been a suspect!
My impression when it was over was of a very weak production with some quite feeble acting and a screenplay that struggled to contain and present all the characters. It sounds false whenever one is given the feeling that this is a bunch of actors standing around on camera, all waiting for each bit of someone else's dialogue to stop before they say their bit.
Still, the location scenery was wonderful, as a reminder of a grand English country house worthy of National Trust preservation...