Teresa Reviews “The Seven Dials Mystery” (1981)

Fidelity to text: 4 1/2 poison bottles

It’s very close, other than John Gielgud coming across as far more intelligent than Lord Caterham is supposed to be.

Quality of movie on its own: 4 poison bottles

Only if you’re in on the genre joke. If you don’t, you won’t enjoy the movie.

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

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

One of the things we all forget about Agatha is she didn’t write her books in a vacuum. She read widely, she was interested in all sorts and classes of people, and she had — even more neglected now that she’s turned into an institution — a sense of humor. You can tell what a person truly believes by what they’re willing to make fun of. If you can make jokes about the silly asses of the aristocracy, then perhaps you don’t see them as all-knowing gods who must be respected no matter how they behave.

Thus we come to The Seven Dials Mystery. Agatha published it in 1929. It wasn’t rapturously reviewed at the time and today, it’s regarded as one of her least able efforts. It’s down there in the weeds along with The Secret of Chimneys. Seven Dials is a very loose sequel to Chimneys, using a few of the same characters (Eileen “Bundle” Brent, Lord Caterham, Bill Eversleigh, George Lomax, Tredwell, and Inspector Battle). The novel also begins at Chimneys, where the first murder takes place.

Anthony Cade and Virginia Revel are not mentioned; presumably they’re living happily ever after ruling his tiny Ruritanian-esque kingdom out in Mittel Europa. Likewise, there are no stolen, priceless diamonds floating around. There is a secret formula floating around, waiting to be stolen.

Seven Dials was another of Agatha’s light-hearted thrillers. But it’s more than that. It’s a mash-up between two very popular genres of the time: P.G Wodehouse English Country house farces and John Buchan-style thrillers involving espionage, high stakes, secret societies and governments at risk.

Yes, once again, Agatha Christie was at the cutting edge of writing. But, as a middle-aged, gentry-class married woman with a child, she wasn’t seen as a leather-clad young Turk. No indeedy. And thus, Seven Dials isn’t seen as being subversive despite her turning every standard convention of both genres on their head.

The movie remains true to the novel both in storyline and in attitude. Watch those bright young things racing about the countryside in their motor cars, indulging in larks and practical jokes. Observe Jimmy Thesiger sparring with his manservant over the purchase of handguns and remembering to wear shoes and not inviting ladies of dubious repute into his home. See Tredwell put Lady Coote into her place, reminding her that while he may be a mere butler, he knows how the aristocracy should behave while she will always remain a jumped-up social climber from some working-class household who got lucky. If you read Wodehouse, it’s all familiar.

Similarly, if you know your Edwardian and Great War-era thrillers, you’ll recognize the valuable formula that will harden steel so airplanes can shed immense quantities of weight and become more lethal and cost-effective. You’ll spot the unexpected murder of a total idiot as being more than it seems, particularly when the second, more dramatic murder takes place. You’ll expect the mysterious secret society bent on world domination, where all the members wear masks and only Number One knows who all the members truly are. Which all-important industrialist is Number One? Look! There’s the dashing hero investigating the murders, trying to save the formula from evil foreigners, and unearthing the truth behind the Seven Dials.

These worlds collide when Lady Eileen “Bundle” Brent gets involved. (If you’re wondering about her nickname, it’s obvious: she was a bundle of joy.) After all, the first death occurred in her bed! Although it wasn’t stated, I’m assuming the sheets got changed when Chimneys reverted back to the Caterham family. Naturally, as a bright, strong-willed young lady of the aristocracy to whom nothing bad could ever happen, she investigates. Her investigation is aided by Jimmy Thesiger, man-about-town, who’s charming, helpful, not quite as stupid as he appears to be, and able to go everywhere.

Equally natural in both genres is the murder victim’s half-sister, Loraine, who — could she do anything else? — is desperate to discover who murdered her half-brother, the best brother any girl could ever have. Loraine doesn’t stand idly by when told to wait somewhere safe by Jimmy Thesiger. No, she works up her courage and arrives at Chimneys at 2 a.m., and has the packet containing the secret formula tossed out a window right in front of her. She’s shocked and horrified.

Jimmy, man-of-action, gets shot the same night during the struggle over the formula but he doesn’t let that stop him from investigating. He’s aided not just by Eileen and Loraine, but by Bill Eversleigh, doofus in search of a Jeeves to run his life. Bill works for George Lomax in the Foreign Office so he’s connected in various ways. He’s the one who accidentally tells Eileen about the seedy nightclub called Seven Dials. She insists on going — could she do anything else? — and discovers that one of Chimney’s footmen is now working there. Alfred the footman looks menacing but Lady Eileen soon puts him in his place. It’s at Seven Dials that Eileen also realizes that Bill is a bad liar. He claimed no one went to Seven Dials but that is one happening night club.

Events proceed as you’d expect. Eileen infiltrates the secret society and from a closet watches the masked villains discuss their nefarious plans.

Soon thereafter, things fall apart and Agatha turns all your genre expectations on their heads. Among everything else, don’t miss an early precursor to a critical plot point in Death on the Nile. We learn that:

* Eileen isn’t nearly as smart as she thinks she is: it’s all book-smarts and not street-smarts.

* Bill Eversleigh isn’t quite as much of a doofus as he seems, but he’s still a doofus.

* Jimmy Thesiger isn’t the hero he seems to be and how, exactly, does he pay for that lavish pied-à-terre?

* Loraine might have a dead half-brother who needs avenging, but he’s not the man she’s focused on.

* Inspector Battle — dull, stolid, not very bright, overweight and decidedly unheroic — is proved to be something else entirely.

* The Seven Dials Secret Society is secretive but they’re not who they seem to be either.

* About the only people who remain who we thought they were are Lady Coote, Lord Caterham, and George Lomax.

The movie could have been better paced. It dragged at times. Musical cues were sometimes overly obvious. The film stock was strange. Interior scenes were crisp and clear but as soon as the characters went outside, the film got fuzzy. The film desperately needed subtitles so you don’t miss the witty lines. Most of all, if you can’t handle the genre mashing, you’ll wonder why you’re wasting your time. But if you get Agatha’s pastiche of typical thrillers of her day, you’ll like The Seven Dials Mystery.