Teresa Reviews “Appointment with Death” (1988)

Teresa reviews “Appointment with Death” (1988) and finds it a disappointing adaptation.

Fidelity to text: 2 1/2 poison bottles

It’s reasonably close if you ignore that ridiculous chase through the souk, cardboard characters, and Agatha’s prose abandoned in favor of some hack screenwriter’s derivative imagination.

Quality of movie on its own: 2 poison bottles

Lethargic, bad music, wasted stars, and plot threads that went nowhere despite the extensive scenery in which they had room to bloom.

Read more of Teresa’s Agatha Christie movie reviews at Peschel Press.

Also, follow Teresa’s discussion of these movies on her podcast.

This was Peter Ustinov’s last Poirot outing. He should have gone out on a high note rather than this sour one. It’s the script, not the talent, although the director’s choices didn’t help. Smacking doors into your star like some slapstick clown? Why hack screenwriters think they can do better than the mistress of crime is beyond me.

From the opening credits, you know you’re in for an appointment with mediocrity. The movie opens with a reading of the will, where our villainous matriarch (an outstanding Piper Laurie) blackmails her shyster lawyer (David Soul) into burning the true will. Does the weather become psychotropic? Naturally. These events simply demand a sudden, torrential thunderstorm.

What made it all stranger (for me) was the equally sudden time leap. When Ustinov began making Poirot films, they were set in the mid-1930s. Then, his next three outings leaped forward in time to contemporary 1980s films. I accepted it because the date switch was handled well and the films stayed true to the source material.

Suddenly, we’re back in 1937. It was jarring to see everyone in period dress, driving period cars, when I’d gotten used to 80s hair and fashion. To make sure you know it’s 1937, the movie’s climax includes a coronation ball for George VI as well as an argument about Wallis Simpson.

The novel is psychologically compelling. Mrs. Boynton is one of Agatha’s best villains. She loves power and mental torture. She’s slowly destroying her four children’s minds. They all behave much younger than their calendar age; they’ve never been let off the leash even to attend school. Most of that was swept away, turning her — despite Piper Laurie’s best efforts — into a TV movie of the week monster. She even gained a first name, Emily. Not having that bit of humanizing was more effective. It emphasized her distance from normality.

Her four children lost most of their complexity. Lennox, the oldest stepson, is nearing catatonia from despair. Nadine, his wife, is ready to leave him to save her sanity. Ray is contemplating murder but doesn’t know where to begin. Carol is equally trapped. Both Ray and Carol are still strong enough to be terrified of what’s happening to Ginevra, Mrs. Boynton’s natural daughter and youngest child. Ginevra is escaping her mental torture by sinking into a fantasy world where she’s a kidnapped princess. She’s about to walk through the door into schizophrenia and she won’t be able to return.

Nadine was handled about as badly as it was possible. Carrie Fisher had the thankless task of playing an adulterous woman whose behavior is more schizophrenic than Ginevra’s. In the novel, Jefferson Cope is an old and dear friend. She is not having an affair with him. She agrees, finally, to leave Lennox for Jefferson. She’s desperate to save Lennox and their marriage and if jealousy won’t rouse him from his torpor and come after her, then nothing will. Either way, Nadine has to leave to save herself. She’s refused to have children with Lennox to save them from Mrs. Boynton’s abuse.

Movie Nadine is openly cheating with Jefferson. Yet you never see the payoff scene with Lennox where she explains how desperate she was to get him to pay attention and come back to life. Nor do you see Jefferson — when he learns the truth — take it with a good grace because he’d rather see Nadine happy than miserable even if it means they don’t marry.

Turning Jefferson Cope into a shyster worked when Mrs. Boynton blackmailed him. It even worked when Jefferson showed up onboard ship and she tried to poison him. Having Lennox accidentally rescue Jefferson from poisoning by attacking him after discovering their affair did not work. There was no setup showing Lennox as anything other than catatonic and then he quit paying attention to Nadine again!

Worst of all was having Poirot seeing Mrs. Boynton bribe an Arab to kidnap Jefferson. He vanishes from the script, only to return to the dig a few days later with Miss Quinton, girl archeologist, who had also vanished! They were brought back by a band of Arab horsemen after unlikely adventures that we never see, never receive an explanation for, but which apparently resulted in Jefferson and Miss Quinton getting to know each other extremely well during those chilly desert nights. Except, when the script called for it, they forgot they knew each other and Jefferson was back panting after Nadine.

Hayley Mills was wasted as Miss Quinton. Hope she enjoyed her tour of Israeli deserts.

This movie’s got plenty of travelog but it’s all dull; TV movie-of-the-week quality. Nothing unusual or interesting and filmed awkwardly enough that you know it’s the second unit doing the work and the stars are nowhere near that extremely well-known landmark. That was another mistake. Emily Boynton gave the family a vacation. Mrs. Boynton wanted to open the cage door and give her unhappy prisoners a taste of freedom. Then, when they returned to the family compound, her children and daughter-in-law would be more unhappy than ever, and she could revel in their suffering.

Lauren Bacall was fabulous as Lady Westholme. She’s a thinly veiled portrait of Viscountess Nancy Astor, an American who married a British peer and was elected as a member of Parliament in her own right. Lady Astor was the kind of hyper-organized, aggressive, insensitive, humorless do-gooder who makes the unfortunate poor head for the exits while having another drink.

Novel Poirot determines who murdered Mrs. Boynton purely on logic. Movie Poirot depends on transatlantic cables to prove his theory. The scriptwriter even gave a villain speech to Lady Westholme so she could justify her (admittedly praiseworthy) murder.

The same scriptwriter decided that there wasn’t enough action (despite ignoring Jefferson Cope, Miss Quinton, and the Arab horsemen after setting up that amazing complication) and added a secret witness to the murder. Thus, after we have to watch a shadowy figure beg to talk to Poirot but then refuse to — the script needed padding — we have to watch this same lithe, agile young man show up and then flee through the souk with Sarah King, girl doctor, in hot pursuit. Yes, folks, a skinny Englishwoman in a dress and heels can chase a young man through a crowded souk that he knows like the back of his hand and keep him in sight. Then, when he’s shot by a mysterious assailant, she’s menaced and conveniently rescued by the astonishingly well-timed intervention of British military police.

I could go on and on and on. Every time the movie seemed to come to life, it fell back into dopiness. It’s a meeting with tedium, best avoided unless you’re a major fan of one of the stars.

Read more of Teresa’s Agatha Christie movie reviews at Peschel Press.