Teresa Reviews “The Hollow” (2004)

Teresa Peschel reviews “The Hollow” (2004) the Poirot episode starring David Suchet, and found it filling until the empty end. (Warning: Spoilers!)

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

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Fidelity to text: 3 revolvers

Simplified, sometimes improved, an altered clue, and a badly rewritten climax.

Quality of movie on its own: 4 revolvers

Everything worked right up to the ending which didn’t.

The Hollow isn’t as well-known as some of Agatha’s other novels but that’s not because it’s a bad book. It’s not. She really plays with the tropes, stretching the boundaries of what a mystery can achieve. There’s only one murder and it doesn’t occur until about one-third of the way through. The second, near- murder takes place at the climax when Poirot’s on the scene to foil the villain.

The novel is a study of how tangled love can be, how we make our own problems, and how blind adoration can turn toxic. The Hollow seethes with emotion. It’s got strong elements of the class divide. You’ll see the expectations and entitlement of the upper crust at work. There’s art and artists and, as in Five Little Pigs, the value of art is compared to the value of human connections. Everyone is a fully-rounded human being with flaws and virtues, even the essentially hollow artist Henrietta. Most of all, it shows how a family can compromise their ethics and rally around a murderous relative because “the police won’t understand” and “he had it coming.”

Which he did! John Christow is the center of the story. Not all his complexity made it to the screen. He’s a famous doctor and researcher, adored by his patients. He’s enjoyed numerous affairs, none of which his wife knows about, although other people do.

But now he’s nearing forty and reevaluating his decisions. One of them was refusing Veronica Cray. They’d met years ago and enjoyed a torrid affair. But Veronica wanted John to drop out of medical school, abandon his dream of saving lives, and follow her to Hollywood to be Mr. Cray and hold her coat at the stage door, He balked and they parted, yet she’s still occupying mental space in his head. She also hasn’t gotten over him.

John married Gerda because she was the opposite of Veronica. Gerda’s slow, quiet, not very bright, and she adores John with every fiber of her being. She’ll always be his acolyte and most vocal supporter. Henrietta tells Poirot that Gerda belongs to John and he likes it like that. Gerda’s also related to the Angkatell family so the connection is nice too. The novel was unclear on why Lucy invited John and Gerda to her home. The film decided that Gerda was a relative, which made sense.

Meanwhile, John’s been carrying on with Henrietta. Henrietta likes Gerda very much, but she won’t give up being John’s side piece for her.

Edward Angkatell is madly in love with Henrietta and has been since they were kids playing together at Ainsworth (the ancestral Angkatell estate). Lucy Angkatell adores Ainsworth, but as a daughter, she couldn’t inherit. Her husband, Henry, has the Angkatell name but he’s further away in succession from Ainsworth than Edward is. Henry loves Lucy and is ambivalent about the importance of Ainsworth. Lucy wants Edward to marry Henrietta and produce heirs to protect Ainsworth and keep it in the family. Henrietta likes Edward as a friend but he’s an inadequate dweeb compared to John Christow. The tiny bit of John she’s able to enjoy far outmatches having all of Edward. Midge, a poor relation, loves Ainsworth and loves Edward but as long as Henrietta’s around, Edward will never notice her.

The film grossly simplified the Midge and Edward story. They met and argued about her need for a job (to pay her bills, something Edward couldn’t understand). When Henrietta rejected him after John’s murder, he saw Midge as a kindred spirit and rescued her from her awful job. They became engaged, but Midge broke the engagement because she realized that Edward still pined for Henrietta and she wanted him to be happy more than she wanted to marry him. In despair over losing both women, Edward tries to put his head in the gas oven, but is rescued by Midge.

This entire subplot? Reduced to a few lines of dialog in the movie, with no mention of broken engagements and suicide by gas.

So, this is a murder mystery?

Well, yes.

John and Gerda arrive at the Hollow for the weekend. At dinner, they’re introduced to Hercule Poirot, spending his weekends in a nearby cottage to see if he likes the country. (He doesn’t.) After dinner, Poirot leaves, having refused to play Lucy’s party game of “Pretend Murder.” A few hours later, as the evening’s winding down, Veronica Cray sweeps in through the French doors, all platinum blonde hair, evening gown, and platinum fox cape. She claims she needed to borrow matches and then, very showily, suddenly notices that there’s her old flame John Christow!

Veronica sweeps back into the night, trailed by John and six boxes of matches. Lucy says what everyone other than Gerda is thinking: “What a performance!” Gerda’s not sure what to think but she’s not happy. Henrietta’s not happy either, but she can’t publicly complain.

When Poirot returns for lunch the next day at the pool pavilion, he sees what he – at first – thinks is Lucy forcing him to play her “Pretend Murder” game. A body’s next to the pool’s edge, a woman’s standing over him, revolver in hand, and the rest of the house party’s standing around in poses of shock and horror. The polite Poirot even applauds and praises the setup. Except that this isn’t pretend. This is real.

John Christow is dying, but he revives long enough to speak: “Henrietta.” Not Gerda. His wife doesn’t rush to his side; she’s holding a revolver. Henrietta takes it from Gerda and clumsily drops it into the pool.

What happens next shows Agatha’s mastery of the mystery story. Poirot and Inspector Grange investigate but they’re thwarted at every turn by the Angkatell family and servants, closing ranks around Gerda. She couldn’t possibly have shot her adored husband. Someone else did it and left her holding the revolver. It’s Henry’s revolver, part of his extensive gun collection. Does Henry inventory his guns to see if anything else is missing? Why, no, he does not. Does Lucy care who shot John? No, she does not. With John dead, Henrietta might marry Edward, produce an heir and a spare, and save Ainsworth. The butler finds a gun and he returns it, taking care to wipe it clean because it was dusty. Does he tell the police? Why should he?

Do you recall Murder on the Orient Express? They all did it.

Here, they all cover it up.

After this wonderful buildup, the ending was a disappointment. Poirot knows he’s being led down the primrose path to one dead end after another. Despite being lied to by everyone, including Veronica Cray in a performance that Lana Turner in the dock would have been proud of, he works it out. Thus, when Lucy warns Henrietta that they forgot the holster, she rushes to Gerda. Poirot is right behind her, although unusually for the series, we didn’t have to watch a car chase.

Henrietta confronts Gerda about the missing holster. Gerda provides tea, the holster, and her explanation of why she shot John. Left alone in bed after the party, she goes for a walk. In the pool pavilion, she spots John and Veronica in a position so compromising that it breaks her adoration for him. It’s heartrending.

But then, instead of letting Gerda attempt to poison Henrietta to protect herself as she did in the novel, the film has Gerda poison herself offscreen to avoid prosecution.

The sign of a great story is that you can think about it afterwards, and even find new meanings and motivations. Although it’s not stated in either novel or film, I wonder if Gerda had a motivation for murdering Henrietta beyond self-preservation. She realized in the pavilion that John was cheating on her with Veronica. Were her eyes opened to John’s relationship with Henrietta too? I think so.