Teresa Reviews “The Murder at the Vicarage” (1986)

Fidelity to text: 3 guns.
The usual changes of condensing or removing characters, some of whom were important (Dr. Stone and his hapless assistant). The plan to trap the murderer is radically different and, worst of all, one of the murderers commits suicide out of remorse. No, they did not. They killed him and they were glad; glad, I tell you. Glad that rascal was dead because he had it coming.

Quality of movie on its own: 3 guns.
I did not like this Joan Hickson outing nearly as much as the others I’ve seen to date. The pacing was off, the dialog was murky in the extreme, large sections were shot in the dark, and some characters were so underplayed as to have all the liveliness of a Ken doll. I’m looking at you, Lawrence Redding, louche painter and sex magnet. Not here. The poacher, Bill Archer, must have stolen all of Lawrence Redding’s virility. That makes it harder to understand why Anne Protheroe has an affair with him and why stepdaughter Lettice is jealous and catty about Lawrence’s affections.

Miss Marple made her debut in the short story collection The Thirteen Problems (retitled The Tuesday Club Murders in the United States). She then went on to star in her first novel, The Murder at the Vicarage, and if people know Miss Marple at all, this is probably the one most people are familiar with.

Thus, it behooves the BBC to produce an adaptation that is true to the text, since far more people watch TV than read. If you’re showcasing a major fictional character, why not do it right? Tell the story the way the author intended. Allowing for the differences between film and text, the BBC does generally do it up fine, as they did with Hickson’s four previous outings as Miss Marple.

Now that I think about it, maybe they didn’t. I’m recalling the major rewrite of Lance Fortescue’s character in A Pocketful of Rye.

And the same proved true for The Murder at the Vicarage. I can accept characters being disappeared because 102 minutes doesn’t allow for a leisurely complex plot developments. But rewriting Miss Marple’s plot to trap the murderer by having him murder an almost entirely new, made-up-from-whole-cloth character didn’t play well, particularly since much of it was shot in the dark. The cat was a nice touch, though. The murderer was very careful about not harming the cat while trying to gas the victim.

I really didn’t like the other murderer’s suicide. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, the guilt, the shame, the agony of knowing they’d killed another person. Well, no. That murderer was quite clear: he had it coming and there wasn’t so much as a snip of guilt. I suppose the reasoning behind this was to make for more drama for the film. Or, the screenplay wasn’t properly developed and so the scriptwriter had to come up with something dramatic.

In the novel, although the crimes are solved, we do not see what happens next. We assume that arrests are made, the case is brought to trial, and the murderers convicted (since Miss Marple deduced the motives and methods, this is a foregone conclusion) and then hung by the crown. The scriptwriter chose to finesse this ending with one of their own. That still leaves the other murderer, the instigator of the plot, hanging freely and off-screen.

Another thing I didn’t like about this adaptation was it didn’t spell out the reasons for the murders. There’s always a reason for murder, usually involving money, sex, or fear. In The Murder at the Vicarage, money and sex feature prominently, but you’d never know it from this adaptation.

It’s so bloodless. Agatha is never bloodless. Her novels seethe with passion requited and unrequited. The desperate need for money runs a close second. Sometimes the need for money is to save the estate from ruin, other times it is the dire need to escape living in poverty. In this case, our villains want to run away and live in sin, and be comfortable while doing so. Yet that is never made clear.

One change I liked was seeing a lot more of Mary, the vicar’s insolent and incompetent maid, and her young man, the local poacher Bill Archer. He has regular run-ins with Colonel Protheroe. Like Mary, he’s also a representative of the lower, working-class villagers who normally only show up to add background color despite doing all the work. The same is true of the villagers that the vicar visits only to discover that he’s been fooled in order to get him far away from the scene of the crime. These two sturdy farmers make jokes at the vicar’s expense, and it’s a funny scene.

So is the scene involving Griselda, the vicar’s wife, and the group of old ladies she is having tea with, including Miss Marple. I would have enjoyed this more if I could have understood better what everyone was saying.

Too much of this movie was shot in the dark. There are long, long moments when you’ll have no idea what is going on. Characters are creeping around, but you’re not sure why. At times, I wasn’t sure who was creeping around in the dark. This includes a lengthy section when a character — who is checking the house for prowlers — could have turned on the darned lights! Nobody investigates mysterious noises in the attic without turning on the lights. These folks have electricity.

The poor lighting does help conceal the lack of English Country House porn. Other episodes in this series (to date) have been better, especially The 4:50 From Paddington episode with (oh-my-God look at that fantastic fill-in-the-blank!) Rutherford Hall. The Protheroes supposedly live in a grand house, but it didn’t look that grand. It may have been authentic down to the baseboards but it didn’t make me drool with envy and dream of redecorating. On the other hand, the church in St. Mary Mead was gorgeous.

Then there’s the scene that made no sense at all. It wasn’t part of the novel. It didn’t solve the crime. It didn’t advance the plot. It’s Mary taking a basket lunch to church and then tucking it away between a pair of flying buttresses (or something like them) on the side of the church so her poacher boyfriend can find the basket.

Why do this? If the producers were looking to fill airtime, they could have devoted more time to Anne Protheroe and Lawrence Redding’s torrid affair. Or to how awful Colonel Protheroe was. Or to Lettice and her distaste for her stepmother and her father. Or to Mrs. Lestrange. Or why Dr. Haydock was so emotionally involved with Mrs. Lestrange. Or why that painting in the Protheroe’s attic was slashed. If you’ve read the novel, you can add more items to the list.

I still think this episode of Miss Marple is worth watching, simply because Joan Hickson is worth watching. She is Miss Marple. Just don’t expect the sumptuous feast of The Body in the Library or A Murder Is Announced.I can’t believe I’m saying this recommendation, but the 2004 version of The Murder at the Vicarage with Geraldine McEwan — despite its many flaws — is a better adaptation. If you can only spare the time for one viewing, choose that one.

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