With his rumpled raincoat, ever-present cigar, bumbling demeanour and Sherlock Holmesian powers of deduction, disarmingly polite homicide detective Lieutenant Columbo took on some of the most cunning murderers in Los Angeles, most of whom made one fatal, irrevocable mistake: underestimating his investigative genius.
An infamous 'psychic' abandons his public persona, outing himself as a fake, to focus on his work as a consultant for the California Bureau of Investigation in order to find "Red John," the madman who killed his wife and daughter.
The show follows a crime, usually adapted from current headlines, from two separate vantage points. The first half of the show concentrates on the investigation of the crime by the police, the second half follows the prosecution of the crime in court.
S. Epatha Merkerson,
Jesse L. Martin
Railway director and fellow Belgian Monsieur Bouc secures Poirot a last minute berth on the Orient Express, returning to England from Istanbul. Ratchett, an abrasive American businessman, traveling with his valet and male secretary, tries to secure Poirot's services as he fears that his life is in danger. Poirot turns him down, but the next morning, whilst the train is stuck in a snowdrift in Serbia, Ratchett is found stabbed to death. There is vague talk of a man seen fleeing the train, but many of the passengers in Poirot's compartment do not appear to know either Ratchett or each other, so what could the motive be? Poirot, assisted by Bouc and Dr. Constantine, attempts to find out. Written by
don @ minifie-1
The majority of the episode was filmed at Pinewood Studios in Buckinghamshire, where the design team built a believable replica of an Orient Express carriage. See more »
Much of the Hungarian spoken by the Andrényis is mispronounced or grammatically incorrect. See more »
No! Lieutenant, you lie to Poirot. You say that you were in the barracks by midnight, but Poirot has proved this to be false. At a quarter to one in the morning you were seen over two miles away in the company of the woman who died. General, this is not a murder, as is suggested by the Palestinian police, but I do believe the lieutenant lied about his whereabouts, first out of panic and then, by sticking to this *lie*, but reinforcing it with *lie* after *lie* for weeks and weeks ...
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Like other reviewers, I expected (or at least hoped for) much more from this movie. I don't understand why Poirot is made to appear so sullen, almost despondent, in this film. And I agree that the many references to religion seem forced. But what really frustrates me about some of the recent Christie adaptations, and especially this one, is that there simply isn't enough time to develop the story properly. The pace is all wrong, so the whole thing has a hurried, unnatural feel to it. If you haven't seen the 1974 version with Albert Finney, you owe it to yourself to rent it. Don't let the fact that the film is over 35 years old discourage you; it has held up well, and is a genuine pleasure to watch.
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