"Ah, the stewed peaches! Quite!"
I've done the Granada Sherlock Holmes; why not make a leisurely start to Thames' Poirots? Incidentally, the Thames indent at the start gave me a nice nostalgic rush. ITV was a proper channel before the franchises were ruined in '91...
I've gone on record as saying I'm not an enormous fan of Agatha Christie. Her plots are as clever as their reputation, but she's a snob, and her prose and characterisation are not great. She is, in short, no Margery Allingham. However, I confess that my reasing of her novels, while extensive, was (ahem) a quarter of a century ago. I ought to revist one at some point.
However, I have to say that this episode bears out my prejudices somewhat. It's a well-made bit of telly, but the story upon which it is based is full of one-dimensional domestic servants and generally superficial characters. I suspect part of the reason this annoys me more than the Sherlock Holmes stuff is simply that, unlike the late Victorian setting of the other programme, this is set quite clearly in the 1930s, and the cars, clothing and general "look" are far less alien and more modern-looking, at least if one happens (just about) to remember a pre-digital world. There are no Hansom Cabs here. Also, the murder mystery is fine, but nothing special.
However, David Suchet is very good, and the woodenness of Hugh Fraser as Hastings probably owes as much to the character as the actor. I'll persevere, at least for a season.
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