EVIL UNDER THE SUN 1982lecinemadreams.blogspot.com/b/post-preview

Of the many films adapted from the Hercule Poirot mystery novels of Agatha Christie, I definitely consider 1974sMurder on the Orient Express to be the most elegant, effective, and classiest of the lot (that cast!). But when itcomes to which Poirot film distinguishes itself in my memory as the wittiest and the most consistently entertaining,none can hold a magnifying glass to 1982s Evil Under the Sun. Striking the perfect balance between deliberatecamp and the appropriate-for-the-period sophisticated light touch of a 1930s Thin Man movie, Evil Under the Sun isan unflaggingly charming little murder mystery whose many gifts (visually, narratively, and dramatically) becomeeven more pronounced with repeat viewings.

Peter Ustinov as Hercule Poirot

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Maggie Smith as Daphne Castle

Diana Rigg as Arlena Marshall

Roddy McDowall as Rex Brewster

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James Mason as Odell Gardener

Sylvia Miles as Myra Gardener

A suitably chi-chi tone is set from the start thanks to a credits sequence comprised of Hugh Casson’s stylishlycharacter-based watercolor sketches accompanied by sweepingly lush orchestrated arrangements of Cole Porterstandards. It should be noted here that the outstanding musical score (arranged and conducted by John Lanchbery)is very nearly my favorite thing about Evil Under the Sun and practically functions as another character in theproceedings. Happily, the soundtrack album is available on iTunes.

Evil Under the Sun doesn’t deviate from the usual tried-and-true Agatha Christie setup: An assemblage of well-heeled characters with hidden agendas and interwoven alliances finding themselves circumstantially confined to apicturesque locale where a murder has taken place. The cast, budget, locale, and designated sleuth may change(either Hercule Poirot, or Jane Marple), but everything else about the Christie formula is as reliable and religiouslyadhered-to as the plot of a Beach Party move.

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Bathing BeautyMonsieur Poirot prepares for une baignade dans la mer

And beach parties are an apt reference, for you see, Evil Under the Sun gives us a Hercule Poirot on holiday. Aworking holiday in any case, as the eccentrically fastidious detective is dispatched to a tony island resort owned byformer courtesan Daphne Castle (Maggie Smith) to investigate a simple insurance fraud that (of course) turns into apuzzling case of whodunit. Gathered this season for fun in the sun is a gaggle of guests, all of whom share anunpleasant past association.There’s fey columnist Rex Brewster (McDowall); bickering and boorish theatrical producers, Myra and OdellGardener (Sylvia Miles &James Mason); ill-matched newlyweds Christine and Patrick Redfern (Jane Birkin &Nicholas Clay); disgruntled industrialist Horace Blatt (Colin Blakely); and, most ostentatiously, abrasive Broadwaystar Arlena Marshall (Diana Rigg) with her new husband (Denis Quilley) and reluctant stepdaughter (Emily Hone) intow.

Hotel proprietress Daphne Caste (Smith) and guest Sir Horace Blatt (ColinBlakely) react to yet another Poirot eccentricity

While the mystery at hand is puzzling enough, with red herrings more plentiful than pebbles on the beach; theparticulars of what follows in Evil Under the Sun are of less consequence than the flair with which they arepresented. Screenwriter Anthony Shaffer (Sleuth, The Wicker Man) has fashioned a delightfully witty script of cleverwordplay, colorful characters, and ceaseless bitchiness.Director Guy Hamilton, who I felt seriously botched the 1980 Miss Marple film The Mirror Crack’d, redeems himselfrather stupendously with Evil Under the Sun, seizing on every opportunity for highlighting the character-basedhumor and conflict. His direction displays exactly the sort of zest and deftness of pacing missing from that earlierfilm. Granted, Hamilton is greatly assisted this time out by a cast of accomplished, largely British actors surrenderingthemselves to creating distinctly vivid characters while sticking to the genre's demand to remain a tightly blendedensemble piece.

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WHAT I LOVE ABOUT THIS FILM

There's something I find very funny in this collection of testy and ill-tempered society folks trying in vain to relax ontheir vacation. In a way, each is out of their element (none more so than the seasick prone, non-athletic Poirot), andthe strain shows in the All About Eve exchanges and edgy interactions.

Rex Brewster attempts to get the Gardeners to talk about their recent flop:Rex: "Would either of you care to comment on that?"

Odell- "Why don't you go and play with yourself?"Myra- "Excessively."

Rex - "Is coarseness a substitute for wit? I ask myself."

And if you're going to have a script crammed with catty dialog, you couldn't ask for it to be delivered by better actorsthan those twin masters of the articulate put-down; Diana Rigg and Maggie Smith.

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Arlena- "Linda, do stop standing there like a cough-drop and say hello toMonsieur Poirot!"

Daphne- "I hope you haven't come here to practice your sleuthing games on myguests. They've all got far too many skeletons in their cupboards to join in with

enthusiasm."

PERFORMANCESThe cast assembled for Evil Under the Sun is not only one of the strongest of the Agatha Christie series (it'sUstinov's second go-round as Poirot and he pretty much makes the role his own in this outing), but, stylisticallyspeaking, it's wonderful how they all manage to be on the same page and hit the same notes throughout. The castplays it serious enough to make the drama work, yet succeed in sustaining an air of caricatureand cocktail party flippancy that is so deliciously amusing and makes Evil Under the Sun a delight from start tofinish. Years before I became a Downton Abbey addict, I've worshiped at the altar of Maggie Smith; an actress who hasalways had a singular way of getting words to do her personal bidding. That she is so good is no surprise; that sheupstages even the well-cured hamminess of Ustinov is miraculous. Bad girls are always good fun, and the ever-classy Diana Rigg sinks her teeth into her über-bitch role with assurance.

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Nicholas Clay and Jane Birkin are excellent as a mismatched couple

I was taken by surprise by how much Sylvia Miles made me laugh. Giving an unsubtle performance to say the least,Miles is nevertheless perfectly cast as the Ugly American in a film loaded with Brits (Lauren Bacall served the samefunction in Murder on the Orient Express). And the pairing of this vulgarian with the genteel anddistinguished James Mason is really inspired. Their scenes together smack of an urbane George an Martha, orperhaps they give a glimpse of what Lolita's Humbert Humbert's life might have been had Charlott Haze not had thatnasty accident.The happiest, biggest surprise for me is Roddy McDowall. An actor who has literally given the same one-note, non-performance in film after film for years, at last decides to create a distinguishable character, and he's marvelous. HisRex Brewster has the attitude of Rex Reed, the body language of Noel Coward, and the voice of Tallulah Bankhead.It's as if after all those years in the closet, McDowall could only let loose by playing an openly gay character in a film.He's the best I've ever seen him.

THE STUFF OF FANTASYAs a movie fan who's also a fan of the male physique, I can't tell you how weary I've grown of the decades-longtradition of mainstream films always representing the heterosexual male gaze. It's a given that if a camera is goingto focus on a comely face, appealing chest, desirable derriere, or long leg; those body parts will belong to a woman,and the surrogate eye of the camera, that of the male. Let's go back to the Beach Party reference made earlier.Here's an entire genre of film that never missed an opportunity to train a camera lens on a wiggling female butt orheaving bikini top, yet never considered that there were those in the audience (women, gays, guys OK with theirmasculinity) who might want a close-up of Frankie Avalon's behind for a change. No such luck. The heterosexualmale gaze was all that counted.

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When one happens to come across that rare film that keeps its female stars clothed and trades the cheesecake forbeefcake, attention must be paid. My hat is off to Evil Under the Sun for providing so much memorable footage ofthe handsome physique of actor Nicholas Clay (a fave since Excalibur) in nothing but a barely-there swimsuit. I'veseen Evil Under the Sun at least 10 times over the years. Five of those times I'm afraid were strictly so as to takeanother look at Nicolas Clay's ample derriere. Vive la différence!

THE STUFF OF DREAMSThere's no way to talk about Evil Under the Sun without making mention of the wryly outrageous costumes byAnthony Powell (101 Dalmatians), the only man who can design clothes with a punch line. Seemingly taking hisinspiration from a Wonder Bread wrapper, Powell's whimsical creations are the physical embodiment of the arch witand self-aware humor of the film.

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I got this autograph of Maggie Smith when she was in L.A.making "Hook"

Sylvia Miles sports a black & white ensemble (check the gloves!) worthy ofCruella De Vil

I first saw Evil Under the Sun at a theater when it opened in 1982. During certain scenes the audience laughed soloud and long that you couldn't hear the dialog for long stretches. I thought the film was going to be a big hit, but it'sseldom spoken of today and only rarely shows up on cable TV. As I said, it remains my favorite of the AgathaChristie films and is definitely worth discovering if you've never had the pleasure. Certainly if only to see apre-Downton Abbey Maggie Smith continuing to lay waste to the unwary.

THE AUTOGRAPH FILES:

The late actor Nicholas Clay is not very well-known, butapparently very well-liked: Random Ramblings,Thoughts & Fiction has a greatNicholas Clay post HEREAnother good post on Nicholas Clay can be found atPoseidon's Underworld HERE

Copyright © Ken Anderson

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