Friday 2 August 2013

Episode-by-episode: The Murder of Roger Ackroyd


When the series returned for Series Seven, there had been a gap of five years (1994-1999 in filming terms, 1996-2000 in broadcast terms). It was brought back by popular demand and largely thanks to the American television channel A&E. The series opener was a clever choice – based on the novel The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, first published in 1926, in which Poirot has retired (a convenient explanation for the four year absence). It was adapted for television by Clive Exton and directed by Andrew Grieve.

Script versus novel
Given that the narration of the novel is an essential part of the solution, Exton’s job would always be a difficult one – indeed, almost impossible – and he doesn’t quite succeed. Many Christie fans would probably describe the adaptation as a disaster, but I won’t go quite that far. What makes Christie’s novel such a crime fiction masterpiece is the clever narrative choice and the big surprise it gives the reader in its final chapters (I will have to reveal the plot, so if you haven’t read the novel or watched the adaptation, you should look away now). Exton decides to let Poirot read the murderer’s novel as a journal in a voice-over that runs through most of the episode (though very little of Christie’s actual words are kept intact in this voice-over). In itself, this decision isn’t necessarily a bad one. Of course, he could have had Dr. Sheppard read it, but that would possibly be a bit too revealing. Letting Poirot/Suchet do it neutralises the narrative, which sort of works, I guess. In any case, it does allow for some reflections by Poirot at the beginning and the end of the adaptation . Those two scenes in the bank vault are brilliantly scripted, I’ll come back to them in the ‘Characters and actors’ section.

Now, to the plot changes. After the opening scenes, Exton adds a scene in which Sheppard and Parker go to Poirot’s house (he isn’t living there incognito in the adaptation, which is just as good, since Poirot would never be able to hide away anywhere, a fact that is often referred to in the books – and remember that the other adaptation in which his identity was an issue, ‘The Third Floor Flat’, the scriptwriter also does away with the entire incognito business). This scene is quite well done, and wonderful from a characterisation point of view, because we get a glimpse of Poirot’s cottage life (an entirely square cottage, with neat, orderly rooms, perfectly timed clocks and a garden with vegetable marrows). As I’ve discussed elsewhere, the scene in the garden was added on Suchet’s request, because it is in the novel (well, sort of). Second, Exton adds a visit to Ackroyd’s factory for Poirot (and it is revealed that Poirot lend Ackroyd the money he needed to get started several years ago). Third, the novel’s Inspector Raglan is replaced by an Inspector Davis, and of course Chief Inspector Japp is added, too. Japp’s presence is one of the main flaws in Exton’s script, if you ask me. By adding him to the story, there is no room for a Holmes-Watson relationship to develop between Dr. Sheppard and Poirot,and consequently Dr. Sheppard’s character is seriously marginalised throughout. This, in turn, weakens the surprise ending, because Sheppard isn’t in Poirot’s confidence (if anyone ever really is) to the same extent as in the novel, and we end up regarding him as just another suspect – not a Hastings character. Also, since Sheppard is marginalised, so is Caroline (sadly, since she was an inspiration for Miss Marple). Third, Exton allows for Poirot to make a visit to Mr. Ackroyd the same evening that Sheppard is invited to dinner (and he later turns up just as the murder has been discovered, as well). This is a nice way to ensure that Poirot has the facts of the case straight from the horse’s mouth so to speak, and to underline the friendship between him and Ackroyd. Fourth, three characters are deleted: Captain Hector Blunt (who was little more than a love interest / red herring), Miss Russell and Charles Kent (again, a red herring). Fifth, we come to one of the more peculiar changes; the murder of Parker, the butler. He didn’t blackmail anyone in the adaptation, but it is hinted that he might start to reveal some family secrets since he wasn’t given any money in Ackroyd’s will. Granted, Sheppard does explain that he was afraid he would remember that he had been alone in the room. Still, the hit-and-run and his drunkenness seem overdone and completely unnecessary. Sixth, Mrs. Ackroyd’s conversation with Sheppard is deleted, and so is the mah jhong party and several of the villagers, but these chapters and minor characters don’t feel missed in the adaptation.

Finally, we come to the most serious change of all. The denouement is unlike any other. Not only is it unusual in the sense that Poirot doesn’t really get to explain anything (Sheppard takes care of that). It also provides us with one of the most ridiculous chase scenes the series has ever seen (and that’s saying something). After conveniently confessing to every aspect of the crime, Sheppard makes a run for it with the help of a gun he is handed by Caroline Sheppard (who has read his journal in the car – another curious change, since she is supposed to be unaware of her brother’s crime). In short, the chase scene consists of Sheppard shooting blindly around Ackroyd’s factory (missing Poirot and Japp every time), and Japp counting the number of bullets he has got left. He then goes on to commit suicide with the final bullet. In the novel he committed suicide with veronal (like Mrs. Ferrars).

I don’t know why Exton felt the need to make this change, but I guess it was either because he or ITV felt the original ending was too tedious for a ‘modern’ audience or because it was requested by those who provided the capital, A&E. I don’t know. In any case, it does mar the adaptation. However, despite the significant changes, I can’t bring myself to dismiss the adaptation as a complete and inexcusable disaster (like some Christie fans do). My main point in favour is the magnificent way in which Poirot’s retirement is depicted. For instance, I particularly enjoy the visit to Poirot’s old flat – a scene in which he begins to come to terms with the ghosts of the past. In the end, then, the adaptation is acceptable – not fantastic, but not a disaster either.

Directing, production design, locations, soundtrack
Andrew Grieve’s directing is as good as always. I have recounted elsewhere the lovely homage to the original opening sequence in the bank vault scenes, which I find a lovely way to re-introduce Poirot after such a long absence. Also, I enjoy his play with shadows and light, and particularly the glows of a candle (in Mrs. Ferrars’ room) and a close-up on Poirot stumping his Russian cigarette at the factory. It’s nice to see that the quality of the production design survived a four-year hiatus (even if the set of the flat seems to have been remade for these episodes). Locations used include the village of Castle Combe, Wiltshire and ‘Kit's Close’, Benham's Lane, Fawley, Wycombe, Buckinghamshire (Ackroyd’s house) – and of course Charterhouse Square in front of Florin Court / Whitehaven. Ackroyd's factory was filmed in Kempton Steam Museum. Gunning’s soundtrack is particularly good in this episode. He has added a more sombre tone to the theme tune, which is used throughout (again, a nice way to show that Poirot is back).

Characterisation and actors
As I’ve already explained, the main reason I defend this episode to some extent is that it brilliantly conveys the gentle ageing of the main character. In the year(s) that have elapsed, Poirot has grown more world-weary. He retired to escape the brutality of his profession. He is no longer the cheerful character of the first few series (though there’s still plenty of humour), and the case ends with him realising that he cannot escape the brutality of humanity (and his raison d’être). Suchet’s performance is so wonderfully nuanced, and you wouldn’t think that so many years had elapsed. Below are the two monologues that open and end the episode:
“A man may labour and toil to attain a certain kind of leisure in retirement. And then find that, after all, he yearns for the old busy days, and the old occupations he had thought himself so glad to leave. I had already begun to miss the daily toil of my previous employment when, tout à coup, I was flung back into the midst of the most perversely fascinating work that there is in the world: the study of human nature. A journal came into my possession, in which a murderer had taken the trouble to record for posterity, the thoughts that had accompanied a crime most dastardly. Rarely have I come across such bitterness, such envy and contempt of others, such haughtiness misplaced.”

“I thought I could escape the wickedness of the city by moving to the country. The fields that are green, the singing of the birds, the faces smiling and friendly. Huh! The fields that are green are the secret burial places of the victims of murders most hideous; the birds sing only briefly before some idiot in tweeds shoots them, and the faces all smiling and friendly: what do they conceal?”
Of the guest actors, Oliver Ford Davies is the main standout. I once read a review which stated that if it hadn’t been for the quality of Suchet’s and Davies’s acting, the episode would probably feel terrible. They bring all their gravitas to the roles and contribute significantly to the quality of the episode.

22 comments:

  1. ["It also provides us with one of the most ridiculous chase scenes the series has ever seen (and that’s saying something).]


    The "AGATHA CHRISTIE'S POIROT" series is filled with many ridiculous and unnecessary chase scenes, but this one took the cake.

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  2. Can you tell me if the white house used as Ackroyd's home was used in other Poirot episodes? It looks very familiar.

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    1. I don't think they used that particular house in other episodes, but it's quite similar to the one used in "The Double Clue" and "One, Two, Buckle My Shoe".

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  3. La casa usada en Ackroyd es “Kit’s Close” diseñada por Nicholson Christopher David George para el Dr. Crowe Warren 1936-1937, inspirada en un piano de cola, está ubicada en Henley-On-Thames, Wycombe, Buckinghamshire
    La casa usada como casa de “Martin Alistair Blunt” en “One, Two, Buckle my Shoe” y en “The Double Clue” es “Shrub’s Wood” diseñada por los arquitectos Mendelsohn y Chermayeff, construida entre 1933-1935 está ubicada en Chalfont St Giles, Buckinghamshire, UK
    Norma

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    1. Yes, that's what I meant. Thank you Norma! :)

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  4. Is it implied that the chase scene ruins the factory, so Ralph won't get the inheritance he thinks he's going to get?

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  5. I think it would have been possible to retain Sheppard's narration by eg having him apparently telling the story to an unseen listener, only for it to be revealed at the end that he's speaking directly to the listener and giving his confession.

    Strange that the adaptation leaves the crucial scene of Sheppard in Ackroyd's study until the end.

    For someone who always claims to be at odds with the class system, Suchet's Poirot is always ready for the servants to take or return his hat and coat - and even expects Raymond to do it in their absence!

    The scene where Poirot asks Sheppard to repair his clock is a nice way of introducing the doctor's hobby of tinkering with gadgets.

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    1. Directly to the VIEWER not the listener! Sorry.

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  6. Poirot gets some lines at the end about how he thought he could escape crime by moving to a village, but the Ackroyd case taught him that the supposed peacefulness there is fake. That doesn't seem to quite work. I mean, it doesn't seem like he would have been that naive up until the Ackroyd case...had he never seen a murder in a village before this? Even in the earlier cases, didn't he always harp on everybody having something to hide?

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    1. I think the point with those lines was to start refocusing the character a little. As Suchet has mentioned several times, he tried to darken Poirot as the series went on, and bring out his disillusionment and loneliness. I've always seen this as the most obvious starting point for that. Of course, he has never been naive before that, and more than s few of the earlier cases proved that villages could be ideal places for murderers :P But here, he feels betrayed by a friend and neighbour, by people he has grown to like and care about - and still murder seems to follow him around. That's the realisation - that he can't escape it. As Suchet puts it, he sees it as his duty to rid the world of crime, and he understands that he can't simply move away and retire from that duty. If that makes sense.

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    2. It's not naivety, it's just about volume. There's crime all the time in cities, but villages are much quieter.

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    3. I viewed this as an attempt to correct what I think is a massive flaw in the original story. The premise of Poirot's presence in King's Abbott is ridiculous. Poirot HATES the country. And we're supposed to believe that he would want to move there for retirement so that he could grow vegetables? DIGGING AROUND IN THE DIRT WITH HIS HANDS? Never. It's absurdly out of character for him. So the series wanted to give the audience at least some kind of explanation, even though I don't think it really works.

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  7. Another mistake that Exton had made was to allow Caroline Shepphard stumble across the journal before Poirot could reveal the murderer. If Exton was trying to hint that she was killer, it was clumsily handled and ineffective.

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  8. In America, the safe deposit box doors are thick and don't flex and bend when keys are inserted and removed. Surely real boxes in the UK are made of sterner stuff? -Toby Flenderson

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  9. And Jamie Bamber as the stepson-- very young!

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  10. The only way to really appreciate the Clive Exton adaptation is to entirely forget the original novel.

    The 1926 novel was brilliant because it transgressed an established convention of detective fiction at the time: the detective's confidante is never the murderer. The original Christie reader was lulled into a false sense of security with Dr. Sheppard's character because of his Watson/Hastings role in the story, underscored by Poirot's own overt references to Sheppard substituting for "mon ami Hastings." Even intelligent, well-read mystery readers entirely overlooked Dr. Sheppard as a possible suspect, and some readers felt "betrayed" by the revelation that Sheppard was the blackmailer and (multiple) murderer. In the original novel, both the literary text and the "meta-text" (the accepted practices and conventions of mystery writing) became the blocks to the reader solving the mystery.

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    1. The dilemma of the 1926 reader is actually reflected in the character of Caroline Sheppard: intelligent, inquisitive, alert, and able to piece together the words and actions of others into a coherent whole. But like the reader, Caroline is blind to any clues of her brother's multiple crimes because she has never even considered her brother an object of suspicion. It is unthinkable for her or for the reader.

      The 2000 adaptation is missing all of this meta-text which was the point of the original book. This omission is odd, considering that Clive Exton, of all the Poirot writers, was the most faithful to the original stories. If there was a reason Exton deviated so far from the original, it had to be a good one, especially with the criticism he was bound to receive.

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    2. A faithful rendering of the story would have required Dr. Sheppard to narrate, using Christie's own words. We would have seen Dr. Sheppard traveling with Poirot, talking to suspects, acting his role as confidante. We would have heard Sheppard's perspective and his arrogance in regard to Poirot. Remember, Sheppard's goal was to outsmart Poirot and his written journal was to be the story of Poirot's one great failure. Instead, Sheppard's journal recounted his own failure to fool Poirot. But Sheppard was not entirely unsuccessful: he did succeed in fooling the reader. The last pages of Sheppard's journal point out, with some satisfaction, where the reader went wrong. For example, Sheppard shows how easily he glossed over the actual murder in the text (with a simple sentence) just before leaving Ackroyd's study. Sheppard (and Christie) are saying: "Here is the paragraph where I murdered him and you didn't even see it!" The end of the story, then, is about the meta-text: Christie, through Sheppard, is pointing out her cleverness.

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    3. Exton must have decided that the 1926 meta-text wouldn't work in the 2000 context of the television series. The device of the confidante or the good guy being the murderer is no longer new. Since film noir, we have had "dirty cops", and modern audiences are accustomed to such betrayals by trusted figures. Even Christie viewers new to the story would not have necessarily ruled Dr. Sheppard as narrator out as a suspect. A faithful rendering might have led, merely, to a museum piece. It would also have taken the emphasis off the life of Poirot.

      After a four-year hiatus, the Poirot series has to explain his absence and why he is returning. Since "The Murder of Roger Ackroyd" clearly has Poirot retired, living in the country, and not thinking of returning to crime, the novel's story line benefits the television series as a springboard for the return of Poirot. Moreover, the storyline is authentic from the Christie canon and does not have to be invented.

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    4. I disagree completely that a faithful adaptation would have required Sheppard to narrate. They came up with a brilliant way to translate the conceit of the novel to the screen, and have Sheppard narrate through Poirot. The viewer would have been carried just as the reader. But then they ham-fisted it.

      Sheppard's journal is a badly written idea of what a "bitter" murderer would write, so over the top that it rhythmically thuds with every snarky remark. While I understand that they couldn't pull a lot of text straight from the novel--Sheppard is pretty matter-of-fact his narration--what they replaced it with has zero relation with Christie's novel or its central character. Japp is shoehorned into the story with scant explanation, which causes the local inspector character to entirely disappear from the movie a few short scenes later, despite he and Poirot developing an antagonistic relationship in the first part of the film. Character and plot developments that deadend are always a bad sign of an undisciplined script.

      What's worse, Sheppard's and Caroline's relationship, the heart of the story, only appears in vague outlines, and Poirot's relationship with her is utterly absent (he's on a first-name friendship with Sheppard, something that not even Hastings has, yet they couldn't find away to have that extend to Caroline?). That change even undermines the contrivance of the film's climax, where Caroline makes a decision that the writing hasn't supported.

      And that's the real problem with the Suchet Murder of Roger Ackroyd. Even without the conceit, the mystery and plotting of the novel is one of Christie's best; I read it full knowing what the twist is, and it's still the best Poirot I've read to this point. Even if Exton didn't believe the meta-text wouldn't have worked, he still tried a form of it with his own conceit of the journal. He failed, however, in understanding in what makes the novel work--the relationship of Sheppard to Caroline and Poirot, the root from which Poirot's own actions take shape. By extracting that, we're left with a husk of a lumbering and lurching mystery, with Poirot and Japp as the typical outsiders investigating the crime. Even though Poirot's friendship with Sheppard was carried over, their relationship was not, and everything becomes by-the-numbers, but painted by somebody who has a hard time counting.

      It doesn't matter that viewers would have guessed Sheppard's guilt. The twist is not the story here; it's the consequences of the twist. The movie tries to play up those consequences and their effect on Poirot, which only makes the absence of the novel's core engine even more stark. Suchet's performance is really the only thing that makes that character point work, but a good adaptation it does not make.

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  11. But the meta-text has to change. There's no point to returning to television and reintroducing Poirot only to focus on a passing character who is trying to get Poirot (and the audience) to fail for most of the first episode. A new meta-text has to be created which explains where Poirot has been (retirement) and why (the desire to escape from dealing with evil) as well as what spurs his return to his previous life as a private detective. Exton uses the plot of Ackroyd, in which Poirot's new friend turns out to be a blackmailing murderer, as a crossroads for Poirot.

    I have no doubt that Exton could have created a near-perfect replica of the original 1926 novel. The fact that he didn't means that Christie fans need to explore why he didn't and accept the 2000 adaptation on its own terms: as the return of Poirot.

    Even on that basis, there are problems with the finale which have been discussed in the original post above. But the overall program is not bad and it serves its purpose as a device to resurrect Poirot for another 12 years of entertaining television. This episode is not my favorite, but it does the trick.

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  12. The scene where Poirot rolls up his sleeve and you see his bare arm came as quite a shock, it was like seeing him stark naked!

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About Me

I'm a passionate fan of Poirot, Agatha Christie and the ITV series. If you have any questions, comments, suggestions or requests, please e-mail me at poirotchronology@gmail.com, post a comment on one of my blogs, or get in touch on Twitter @pchronology. (I used to call myself HickoryDickory)