E. A Solinas 2008-11-14
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
A mysterious murder, unbreakable alibis, and a stolen diamond... all wrapped up in a glitzy, mildly campy shell.
Yeah, you can't expect "Evil Under the Sun," with its barbed Mediterranean atmosphere, to resemble Agatha Christie's usual cozies. This relaxed murder mystery does succeed at being fun and genuinely befuddling, although the martini-swilling, sunny atmosphere make the entire gruesome murder feel rather too... relaxing. A murder shouldn't seem like a vacation... or should it?
An insurance goof and a stolen gem send Hercule Poirot (Peter Ustinov) to "Daphne's Place," a palace-turned-hotel in a small Mediterranean country. He arrives on the same boat as famed stage actress Arlena Marshall (Diana Rigg) and her new husband and stepdaughter. Arlena openly has an affair with boytoy Patrick (Nicholas Clay) -- and then she suddenly turns up, strangled on a remote beach.
There are suspects galore: her betrayed husband, resentful stepdaughter, an old rival who is attracted to Mr. Marshall, a pair of ugly American producers whom she's bankrupting, a flaming gossip writer who has written a steamy tell-all, and her boytoy's mousy wife. But no one had the opportunity -- everyone has an alibi. So Hercule Poirot exercises the "little gray cells," unravelling the clues of a discarded bottle, a midday shower, a cannon, and perfume in a cave.
Don't expect "Evil Under the Sun" to be any more faithful to its book than Arlena is to Marshall -- several aspects of the plot are rearranged or changed, and the sense of darkness is exchanged for a rhinestoned camp quality. And the plot unfolds at a leisurely pace, dropping in hints, clues and clever deceptions like so many plastic jewels on a beach.
In fact, the clothes say it all -- both Rigg and Maggie Smith wear faux jewels on silver lame, and American Myra resembles a Christmas tree with fur. Everyone swills martinis, sunbathes, and wanders across a lush little island to the hotel. Occasionally the impending murder and its aftereffects seem almost like an afterthought.
That said, "Evil Under the Sun's" campy quality is part of what makes it so much fun. Lots of catty, witty dialogue ("She always could throw her legs up in the air higher than the rest of us... and wider..."), sniping characters with plenty of motives, and a delightfully loathsome victim. You'll want Arlena dead by the time she tells her daughter to go play with the jellyfish, and then you'll want to know who could possibly have done the impossible.
Peter Ustinov has the right combination of smarts and comedy to play Poirot, the Belgian sleuth who saves the day and drives the hotel staff crazy. And while he succeeds in bringing Poirot's eccentricities to life (such as the "swimming" scene), he never takes it over the top to the point where Poirot becomes cartoonish.
The always-awesome Maggie Smith also turns in a wonderful performance as the razor-tongued "maitresse en titre turned hotelier," turning in some touching and funny moments among the sharp dialogue. And Rigg is wonderfully catty, nasty, glamorous and utterly uncaring of anyone else. The supporting cast also does a wonderful job, particularly the two who play the murderers -- and are the last ones you'd expect.
The one flaw is that all the humor, glitz and wit detract a little from the dark atmosphere one expects from a murder mystery. Instead, "Evil Under the Sun" is a campy comedy that happens to have a murder in it.
