SUMMARY: RUNNING TIME: 1 Hour, 35 Min.
The French translation of the series title is les petis meurtres d’Agatha Christie. First airing in France on September 14, 2012, this episode loosely adapts Agatha Christie’s 1933 Hercule Poirot novel, Lord Edgware Dies. The version is entitled “Le Couteau sur la Nuque” (aka “The Knife in the Neck”). Produced by Escazal Films, Renaud Bertrand directed this installment.
Set in 1930’s Northern France (in proximity to Lille), a lovestruck female fan expecting a clandestine meeting with acting heartthrob Julien Sobel (Alluguette) is brutally murdered. Her severed foot is subsequently mailed to Police Superintendent Larosière (Duléry) to chillingly taunt him.
After locating and identifying the victim’s corpse, the police descend upon a troubled stage production of Don Juan featuring Sobel. Primarily, the play’s two major stars are long-estranged spouses – one is aging bombshell Sarah Morlant that Larosière admires and the other is a wretched alcoholic far past his vaunted prime.
Expecting to promptly re-marry a wealthy French count, the self-involved Morlant (Detmers), is shocked that her decrepit husband (Winling) is then bloodily murdered. Worse yet, Morlant finds herself identified as the prime suspect despite a high society alibi supported by at least a dozen witnesses. Making seemingly little progress sleuthing multiple murders, Larosière, due to his long-standing familiarity with the play, reluctantly consents to fill in as the title character at the next performance.
Meanwhile, the Superintendent’s runaway teenage daughter, Juliette (Isaaz), seeks to finally spend time with her workaholic father. Initially helpful the case, Juliette’s whirlwind romance with Sobel makes her the serial killer’s next target following another backstage homicide. With his daughter’s life at stake, Larosière and his faithful subordinate, Inspector Lampion, must now thwart one, if not two, ruthless killers stalking the theater.
The episode’s language is French with easy-to-follow English subtitles.
Superintendent Jean Larosière: Antoine Duléry
Inspector Émile Lampion: Marius Colucci
Ménard: Serge Dubois
Dr. Verdure: Olivier Carré
Juliette Larosière: Alice Isaaz
Sarah Morlant: Maruschka Detmers
Raoul Cochin: Guillaume Briat
Julien Sobel: Julien Alluguette
Lurie Fremont: Vinciane Millereau
Pierre Fougères: Jean-Marie Winling
Antoine Marin: Frédéric Longbois
Lilas: Flora Thomas
Comte (Count) de Tercoignes: Hervé Hague
Madame de Rémincourt: Barbara Monin
Lisa Debauche: Coline Marescaux
Charlotte: Victoria Quesnel
Other Cast Members: Thomas Debaene & Adrien Calandre
Play’s Production Staff: Uncredited
Theater Attendees: Uncredited
Note: The American title for Christie’s novel is Thirteen at Dinner.
REVIEW:
Given it is the last episode with the original cast, this incarnation of “Lord Edgware Dies,” unfortunately, is a mixed bag. By shifting Christie’s storyline entirely into the theatrical world, the good news is that some plot elements now make better sense (i.e., co-mingling the personal and professional frictions between Sarah Morlant and her estranged husband).
As for the script’s originality, the premise of befuddled father Larosière contending with a rebellious teen daughter while indulging a fantasy of playing Don Juan onstage is superbly conveyed by Antoine Duléry. For such scenes, he and co-star Marius Colucci get terrific help from their guest stars, especially Alice Isaaz as an effervescent “Juliette.’ Hence, the delightful last scene speaks for itself.
The flip side, however, is the lowest-common-denominator junk disguised as a fresh sub-plot. Instead of Christie’s tongue-in-cheek jabs exploring British high society love affairs, this adaptation resorts to a deviant strangler, whose identity viewers know from the get-go.
Wasting a potential second mystery, this gratuitous sub-plot is padding relying upon genre clichés – i.e., where the Superintendent pursues the culprit to save his abducted daughter. Even worse is the unnecessary inclusion of ghoulish details (i.e., the severed foot sequence; a character bloodily impaled with a pitchfork, etc.) just for the sake of adding more grisliness.
Unlike other first season episodes, ”The Knife in the Neck” borders on R-rated material, in terms of its visual imagery. In that sense, such sensationalism mirrors the glossier later seasons of Agatha Christie’s Poirot (not to mention, Agatha Christie’s Marple) where spicing up Christie’s old material meant pushing tawdry sexual themes to lure in more of a supposed contemporary audience. Instead, this trashy creative risk affects a turn-off (or, at least, an incentive to reach for the fast-forward button).
For adult fans, this season finale presents a potentially worthwhile whodunnit. However, the program’s innate charm is sabotaged by one too many cold-blooded killers.
BRIAN’S ODD MOON RATING: 6 Stars
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