Murder in Three Acts

Murder In Three Acts certainly isn't terrible, but compared to Death On the Nile and Evil under The Sun, it has a certain blandness to it. That I can understand because it is a TV film, so would be limited in budget in comparison. There is some lavish scenery, costumes and locations, and the acting is good on the whole. Peter Ustinov certainly seems to be enjoying himself as the dapper detective, while Tony Curtis, Lisa Eichlorn and Emma Samms give able support. Jonathan Cecil is wonderfully naive as Hastings as well. However despite a good cast, and the lovely production values, the film does have a number of failings. One was the script, badly underdeveloped in places, and bore little resemblance to the book, which is brilliant by the way, I suggest you read it. There are numerous plot changes too, even characters's names were changed, Hermione Lytton Gore's name was changed to Jennifer for some obscure reason, and Bartholemew Strange's portrayal wasn't at all what I imagined. And I did think the murders were clumsily handled. However, there are a number of redeeming qualities, it is very entertaining and enjoyable, but isn't like the book. 7/10 Bethany Cox

This is a fine movie. Watching Peter Ustinov play Poirot is always a treat. The dialogue between him and Hastings provides adequate humor. And the Agatha Christie whodunit puzzle is fairly good.

The film suffers though when compared to two previous Ustinov films: "Death On The Nile", and "Evil Under The Sun", both of which were grand and stately big-budget theatrical productions. By contrast, "Murder In Three Acts" is a made-for-TV movie, and therefore seems small and cheap. The scenery, the music, and the casting cannot compete.

Further, the suspects in "Murder In Three Acts" seem too "normal"; there are no really eccentric characters. The women especially seem bland and undifferentiated.

Still, if you can avoid the temptation to compare this film to other Hercule Poirot films, as well as Christie's source novel, the movie "Murder In Three Acts" is still entertaining.

I cannot say the same about this film. Poirot dotters about...Hastings is a wimp! Quite frankly, the whole thing put me to sleep. Read the book instead.

Agatha Christie's Belgian sleuth Hercule Poirot and his ever faithful Tonto like companion Captain Hastings are in Acapulco for Murder In Three Acts. As you gather by the title their are three murders, but their connection to each other is in some cases non-existent and to the murderer they are known in varying degrees of acquaintanceship.

The first is of a clergyman Philip Guilmant at a cocktail party given by retired expatriate actor Tony Curtis when a lethal cocktail is given the victim. At another cocktail party with a different setting the same happens to Dr. Dana Elcar. Lastly a poor catatonic woman in an asylum is slipped a box of chocolates laced with the same poison. The old switch is used like in many a magician's act.

Peter Ustinov as Poirot is present at the first and that was the perpetrator's fatal mistake. As Dana Elcar says all too prophetically for him, crime seems to follow him around.

Agatha Christie purists will object to the way poor Jonathan Cecil is treated like such a boob. He's not in the David Suchet BBC series. It's very much like Nigel Bruce as Dr. Watson who slowly became a befuddled idiot in the Universal Sherlock Holmes movies.

Still the film is all right not up to the standard of Ustinov big screen Hercule Poirot films. And the murderer when revealed truly steals the film.

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Poirot using a pc?

THREE ACT TRAGEDY is one of Dame Agatha's great ideas, because of the way she was able to hide the murderer, the motive, even the fact of murder. But it's not one of her strongest novels, strangely enough. That's a matter of structure. And, I suppose, taste.

Poirot misses the second murder in this show because he's hammering away on a computer, writing his memoirs. That's a clever dodge. It's rare one of these modernized TV adaptations adds something interesting, so they need to be acknowledged when they do.

I've been a fan of Christie's since seeing "Murder on the Orient Express" on the big screen as an adolescent. I especially enjoyed Albert Finney's Poirot, who hypnotized me like a snake (not having read a Christie story at that time I had no other frame of reference). I was disappointed when Oscar-winner Ustinov took over. This has nothing to do with Mr. Ustinov personally. I've enjoyed many of his performances. But by the time his Poirot rolled around I had read several Christies and I saw nothing of Poirot in him; I don't care how many houses of cards he constructs. Nevertheless, I had a compulsion to watch any new Christy adaptations. I see his movies as mysteries using Christy's ideas but with a whole new detective. And, by his accent, a detective by way of Inspector Clouseau. Peter Ustinov is a truly great actor, but not a great Poirot. That's my contrarian view.

This movie is part of the slide away from all-star, splashy movies and into narrower TV budgets with notable film stars replaced by familiar television faces.

Hastings: I don't recall if Hastings was in this book but I rather think he wasn't.

I 've enjoyed Jonathan Cecil in a number of radio programs and talking books, but his Arthur Hastings is an idiot. He's not even a good sounding-board.

Tony Curtis is perfectly cast and they wanted a sexy female so Emma Samms was thrown in, where a woman of more modest dimensions might have been more advisable, though perhaps not so good for advertising.

For the rest, actors like Dana Elcar and Diana Muldaur are best known for being journey-people actors who get a job done.

Frankly, I'm no great fan of Tony Curtis but he's definitely a star, in the sense that the Finney flick and early Ustinov movies were cast with stars. A strange actor, when he's up against weak opposition on the screen he can be dull; but when cast against a Burt Lancaster or Jack Lemmon he can ratchet up his game to match them. He was notable in comedies and a twist of humor is always helpful in Agatha Christie performances; whereas in performances of her great contemporary P. G. Wodehouse the characters have to be dead serious, without a twinkle or a wink or a tongue in cheek.

This adaptation, so modernized, as I mentioned, Poirot is writing is memoirs on a computer, has changed a lot, if it remained faithful to how the murder was disguised. But, as with Christy's novel this adaptation tends to drag.