Terrified of being buried alive by mistake, a woman puts a phone in her crypt to be able to call home if she needs help. She dies and nothing happens. One day, the phone suddenly rings. Paranormal investigator Nelson Orion is brought in.
The Belgian detective Hercule Poirot investigates a series of murders in London in which the victims are killed according to their initials. The first victim is A.A. the second B.B. and so on. Poirot is assisted in his investigations by Captain Hastings and Inspector Japp.Written by
Mike Hatchett <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Albert Aachen climbs to the top of the diving boards during his aquaclown rehearsal, picking up a bottle with his right hand to take a swig from it, with the left theatrically outstretched. The shot changes to a close-up, and Aachen now has the bottle in his left hand. He smiles and the shot changes to a long one - where the bottle is now back a few steps behind him on the platform as he dives. See more »
Where have you been? What have you been doing?
Arranging a little extra insurance my friend.
Oh really? Personally I always feel perfectly safe with British railways. Mind you its very different in France, isn't it?
I wouldn't know. I am not French, I am Belgian.
Well it's the same thing, you both eat horsemeat.
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Tony Randall emerges from Borehamwood Studios' Stage 4 to introduce the film and acknowledge his own starring credit, first as himself and then in full Poirot make-up and character. See more »
The Wikipedia article speaks of the movie makers as going for comedy. I would say this was not the most well-advised decision. I first saw this in high school, when it came to TV a year or so after its release. We were studying Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot in English class. So I was psyched to see the flick.
It was a moderate disappointment. It looked like they tried to make Poirot slightly buffoonish. It looked like they tried to modernize the flick. It looked like dare I say it? It looked like camp. Moicy. One of the besetting sins of the 1960's cinematically (I think) was we all were postmodern and pretentious, and time-honored movies and stories were passé. This came off looking like a Rock Hudson / Doris Day flick in a way.
I like Tony Randall. I like Robert Morley. Anita Eckberg ain't too bad. But it isn't classic Poirot. The adaptation of the book to the Brit TV series Agatha Christie's Poirot with David Suchet that's classic Christie; and classic Poirot.
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