This is a decent and reasonably faithful dramatisation of one of Christie's less compelling stories. It is not nearly as good as the roughly contemporary Joan Hickson version or the more recent re-write with Julia Mckenzie, but is still an enjoyable ninety minutes. However, I have one major reservation that other reviewers have all mentioned but have tended to gloss over: the deeply upsetting appearance of Bette Davis.
TV movies are one-off productions so have no audience recognition or audience loyalty to guarantee the ratings. As a result, they commonly stuff their casts with ageing 'names' in an attempt to attract the attention of the viewers. In this case it was Bette Davis that was drafted in, but the producers should have had the good taste to realise that she was not well enough to appear on screen at that time and deserved better than to be used as a cynical marketing ploy.
She was clearly ill and still recovering from a serious stroke. She looked at least ten years older than Helen Hayes (though actually younger) and tottered around as if she was in pain. Her deadpan face was inches deep in make-up (by her own make-up woman) and she looked terrible. She was struggling to speak clearly and her slow, expressionless line delivery was reminiscent of the careful enunciation of drunks trying not to slur their words.
It was not a performance: it was an embarrassing and distressing mockery of one of the best and most iconic actresses of all time.
All too obviously, Bette Davis thought she could disguise the ravages that time and sickness had wrought on her face and her talent and sparkle on screen just one last time. She should never have been encouraged in this delusion.
Shame on you, Hajeno Productions and shame on you, Warner Brothers!
TV movies are one-off productions so have no audience recognition or audience loyalty to guarantee the ratings. As a result, they commonly stuff their casts with ageing 'names' in an attempt to attract the attention of the viewers. In this case it was Bette Davis that was drafted in, but the producers should have had the good taste to realise that she was not well enough to appear on screen at that time and deserved better than to be used as a cynical marketing ploy.
She was clearly ill and still recovering from a serious stroke. She looked at least ten years older than Helen Hayes (though actually younger) and tottered around as if she was in pain. Her deadpan face was inches deep in make-up (by her own make-up woman) and she looked terrible. She was struggling to speak clearly and her slow, expressionless line delivery was reminiscent of the careful enunciation of drunks trying not to slur their words.
It was not a performance: it was an embarrassing and distressing mockery of one of the best and most iconic actresses of all time.
All too obviously, Bette Davis thought she could disguise the ravages that time and sickness had wrought on her face and her talent and sparkle on screen just one last time. She should never have been encouraged in this delusion.
Shame on you, Hajeno Productions and shame on you, Warner Brothers!