In season 12's version of Hercule Poirot's Murder on the Orient Express, the acting was wonderful. It was a great show except for how someone decided to portray Poirot. The camera kept zooming in on him while he looked grumpy and grim, brooding almost constantly. A director or producer must have decided that Poirot's older now. He's solved so many murders, he's become judgmental and more religious. He flies into tirades, shouting at people and pontificating about Justice. I honestly got really tired of him.
Nowhere in sight was the Poirot I enjoy so much. No sly twinkle in his eye and knowing smile. No humor. No subtlety. He's taken a harsh view of crimes. If you commit one, for whatever reason, you deserve to be punished. He butts heads with one of the suspects who differs with him. Sometimes, justice is above the law. They debate off and on until near the end of the show, Poirot expands his views and becomes a little more like the Poirot in earlier seasons.
Somewhere along the line, Poirot moved to a new apartment and lost Miss Lemon and Hastings. I miss them. They brought out the human side of their friend. For that reason, I skipped the episode after Orient Express and went to one where he's with Ariadne Oliver, the famous mystery writer who eats lots and lots of apples--(a nod to Agatha Christie). Mrs. Oliver brings a touch of humor to Poirot, too.
HH and I are close to the last show of the last season. I hope Poirot is more like himself to finish it out.
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