THE ABC MURDERS: A Delightful Adaptation of Agatha Christie

Fans of British crime dramas associate Christmas not with a fir tree, but with blood and murder. For several years the BBC has been airing adaptations of Agatha Christie’s novels during the holidays; to date they have filmed And Then There Were None, Witness for the Prosecution, and Ordeal by Innocence. In the previous adaptations the most recognizable Christie characters—Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot—did not appear, but in The ABC Murders it is Poirot who solves the mystery… and he is played by John Malkovich.

To anyone familiar with Christie’s books, this casting may seem somewhat odd. Malkovich, though undoubtedly a fine actor, is not necessarily suited to portray a short, comical Belgian with a funny little moustache. Sarah Phelps, who oversees these annual adaptations, solved this problem in a way that may not please fans of faithful renditions: she altered the chronology so that The ABC Murders takes place after Hercule Poirot’s illustrious career.

Malkovich’s detective is a dignified elderly gentleman whom no one takes seriously—certainly not the police.

Letters signed ABC begin to arrive for Poirot—letters that alarm the detective, who fears someone is preparing to commit murder. Scotland Yard ignores his suspicions, claiming it is merely an April Fool’s joke, but when it turns out that one Alice Asher has died in Andover and a waitress named Betty Barnard in Bexhill, they remove Poirot from the investigation. Meanwhile in London Alexandre Bonaparte Cust is renting a room, which hardly seems coincidental.

It is immediately clear that this is a British series. Many scenes are filmed on location rather than in studios as Americans tend to do; the shots are careful and deliberate; the atmosphere stifling and oppressive.

It is enjoyable to watch, but the greatest problem with this adaptation is that Phelps decided to enrich Poirot’s biography. Christie wrote very little about his past, surely knowing that the more mystery surrounds the character, the more interest he arouses. Phelps, however, intertwined events she invented from Poirot’s life several years earlier with The ABC Murders, apparently only to express her views on Brexit and refugees in an unsubtle way.

Regardless of my or her opinions on these matters, this change was completely unnecessary and added nothing to a production that would have stood well without these political threads.

As for me, the rest of the series raises no major objections.

It will surprise no one that Malkovich is a fantastic Poirot who commands the screen from the first moment. He is wonderful alongside Rupert Grint, who at last plays a mature role: the ambitious, somewhat unpleasant Inspector Crome. It is a pity they did not share more scenes. Following the tradition of Christie holiday adaptations, the rest of the cast is also strong: Shirley Henderson (known to all Harry Potter fans as Moaning Myrtle), Andrew Buchan (remembered by Broadchurch viewers as Mark Latimer), Tara Fitzgerald (known to Game of Thrones fans as Selyse Baratheon), and Jack Farthing (known to Poldark fans as George Warleggan).

A top-notch ensemble led by Malkovich, stunning cinematography, beautiful vistas, and a compelling rapport with the viewer—this is another excellent Christmas crime drama from the BBC. It is probably the best yet, rivaled only by And Then There Were None from 2015 (which boasts an equally impressive cast).

Devotees of Christie’s novels who insist on strictly faithful adaptations may not appreciate it, but anyone willing to look past that will find a piece of fine television.