While Miss Marple is on vacation in a luxurious Caribbean resort, a fellow guest confides he has evidence that another resident of the hotel is an unscrupulous serial murderer but is poisoned before he can reveal his identity to her.
A friend of Miss Marple's sees a woman being strangled in a passing train. When police cannot find a body and doubt the story, Miss Marple enlists professional housekeeper, Lucy Eyelesbarrow, to go undercover.
An American movie actress, best known for playing dumb blondes, is Scotland Yard's prime suspect when her husband, Lord Edgware, is murdered. The great detective, Hercule Poirot, digs deeper into the case.
Rosemary Barton, the beautiful wife of a top attorney, dies during their anniversary party at an exclusive restaurant. Later a suicide note is found along with traces of cyanide in her drink, but murder cannot be ruled out.
Robert Michael Lewis
Aging Major Palgrave, an idiosyncratic but charming mystery writer, reveals to Miss Marple that one of the guests at a luxurious Caribbean resort they're staying at is a Bluebeard-type wife murderer. Unfortunately, the Major succumbs to an apparently accidental overdose of alcohol and blood pressure medication before revealing the killer's identity. When it's discovered that the medicine belonged to another guest and the revealing photograph the Major was carrying is missing, Miss Marple realizes that the serial killer has struck again and more murders will follow. Written by
Gabe Taverney (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Those are the two glaring complaints I have about A CARIBBEAN MYSTERY, a made for TV movie which dawdles on for a long time before getting to the point of a series of murders committed at a vacation resort.
Helen Hayes, her American accent intact, still makes a passable Miss Marple even when she utters the name of a quaint village in England as her home, St. Mary Mead. Barnard Hughes is the mean-spirited man whose rudeness becomes a bit overdone after the first few scenes, making you wish he's going to be one of the victims. Not so. He and Miss Marple join forces to solve the crime.
The conclusion is rushed through with brief explanations and not much dramatic conflict, so it's a bit of a letdown--although the murderer's identity is never hard to guess. The acting ranges from competent to barely competent, but the script is rather mediocre.
Recommended for rabid Christie fans only. Nicely photographed with Santa Barbara, California filling in for the Caribbean, but this is very tepid stuff, to say the least, nowhere as good as other Christie outings.
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