Thien Trang Nguyen Phan

I had genuinely looked forward to this new adaptation - a festive Agatha Christie is always a relaxing moment of nostalgic reprieve from contemporary consumerist excesses on rampant display on TV (and elsewhere) during this period. I also welcomed the touches of artistic licence around the main character, which I thought could lead to some refreshingly interesting dynamics in the otherwise sterile and done-to-death setting of the quaint English village with Major this, Reverend that, and the inevitable Lord of the Manor, always white and always oh so posh. I tried really hard to give this a good go, abandoning halfway through the 1st episode, picking it up again only to abandon it towards the end, forcing myself to finish it and start the 2nd episode a few days later, time for my temper to have cooled down. But it was all in vain. The plot was ridiculously convoluted, dialogue inane, characters simply unbelievable and unrelatable, not to mention the constant suspenseful music accompanying the most innocuous actions which drove me to despair. The vast majority of David Jonsson's screen time appeared to be spent narrowing his eyes and puckering his brows. Honestly, I don't blame him. I had not seen him elsewhere, therefore am unable to judge his acting skills based on this woeful production, so I can only hope he is a finer actor than this. As for the show's take on the British Empire and colonial racism, I found the messaging rather too hammy, especially against the backdrop of such poor quality drama and delivered by such clumsy dialogue (Major's Horton critique of 'Empire' was so cringe-worthy I rolled my eyes several times over). There's making a point, and then there's making a point just for the sake of it. As someone else has said in their review here, the best bit of this show was Penelope Wilton's character before it all went awry. I wish they had decided, in a major leap of imagination, not to kill her off. Instead, she was laughed off by Scotland Yard (as she would predictably have been) and Fitzwilliam, having accompanied her there (because he's that kind of boy), felt compelled to help her. Thus, they became sidekicks, stomping around the village as the body count mounted. But that would have been too unrealistic, wouldn't it?

This show is so preposterous, yet somehow manages to keep the dramatic tension going strong over the whole 10 episodes (which, considering how little patience and time I have for multi-episode productions, especially those that get terrible reviews, counts as an astonishing achievement), that you can't help but love it. I certainly did. The plot and its numerous subplots are as deranged, incredible (not in a good way), and tedious as they can get. The dialogue is a collection of the cheesiest lines ever spoken on TV. Some of the acting is truly awful. And boy, how do they manage to keep their houses so spotlessly clean and their beds so impeccably made despite never seeming to be home? But do I care? Nope, because RZ steals every scene. I rarely, if ever, write reviews for TV shows, even those I absolutely adore (and are truly awesome, like Brooklyn 99). But I know this show has been ripped apart by critics, and from the little I have seen online, by viewers too. Thus, in some inexplicable compulsion, I felt I had to lend the show my public support. It will never be one of the best things you will have ever seen. It is very likely to be one of the worst things you will have ever seen. It certainly is one of the worst things you'll feel inexplicably compelled to watch. Until the bitter end. Before compulsively reviewing it online. It's that good.