Cookie Warning


A Warning from Poirot:

Mon Ami, allow me to warn you of a possible danger of reading this blog. Although I'm not a programmer, I understand that cookies may be used on this blog. So if your computer, tablet, phone (etc.) finds cookies objectionable, please peruse these posts with a cookie-friendly internet-surfing device.
Showing posts with label Clive Exton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clive Exton. Show all posts

Monday, November 12, 2018

Clive Exton and H.G. Wells


"The Infinite Worlds of H. G. Wells" begins with a dark and stormy night. An aged H. G. Wells receives a journalist in his library. While he's not inclined to answer her questions, as a gentleman he cannot send her away with a storm raging outside. So he agrees to relate one story from his youth, and then she must leave. 



The esteemed author of such celebrated works as "The Time Machine" and War of the Worlds relates a mysterious event that took place in his youth. As a young man, hunting for ideas, he came across a strange series of events at a London university: an experiment gone wrong, a stack of empty food cans in a cupboard, and laboratory rats that escaped a locked and fastened cage. From these disparate clues, young Wells deduced that a professor has developed a chemical that allowed the user to slow down relative time. 

When Wells and a professor friend find the compound, they take a little of it themselves, and walk across the campus. Everyone else seems frozen. Even a cricket ball has stopped in mid-flight, and hovers over the pitch. These events inspired the author to write the short story "The New Accelerator."

Over the course of three nights, or if you prefer, three episodes, this patriarch of Science Fiction relates the facts that inspired five more of his early stories. His visitor, he soon realizes, is no mere journalist. In fact, she works for a secret government department, specially appointed by Winston Churchill. She takes him to laboratories beneath the streets of London, where he finds artifacts that inspired his early stories. And he tells her about his young love, Jane, who encouraged his writing, and also worked at the university.




These stories lack the production values of "Agatha Christie's Poirot." They venture into the realms of the fantastic, whereas Hercule Poirot only investigated the here and now. But the events of each story are presented as a mystery for a young H. G. Wells to solve.

The series was cowritten by Clive Exton, who adapted many Poirot stories for the screen. They aired in 2001, the same year Exton's final Poirot story, "Murder In Mesopotamia," was broadcast. Did Exton grow tired of Agatha Christie's famous detective, and wished to sink his teeth into another mystery series?  

Sadly, only three episodes of the series were produced. It would have been interesting to have seen how it developed, and if H.G. Wells had somehow helped Churchill defend his nation's shores. At least the series' end left Clive Exton free to write for "Rosemary & Thyme," another charming, light-hearted series about two gardeners who solve mysteries. Those stories aren't Poirot either, but like "The Infinite Worlds of H. G. Wells," they are infinitely fun.

Dragon Dave



Tuesday, May 3, 2016

The Importance of the Family

Left to Right:
Lord Kalidor, Red Sonja, Prince Tarn, & Falkon
(Photo courtesy of Chud.com)

While based on a Robert E. Howard character, the Red Sonja known and loved by fans of the Sword and Sorcery genre was created by comics writer Roy Thomas. She appeared in Marvel's "Conan The Barbarian" series, and her popularity demanded reappearances, and eventually, her very own comic. Yet, when you think of Red Sonja, you typically think of a loner. 

Clive Exton, the co-screenwriter for the 1985 "Red Sonja" movie, chose to give her a family. Not a blood-based family: those were all killed by evil Queen Gedren. But a host of companions to assist her on her journey. Red Sonja, as I mentioned, is a loner, so it's not as if she invites these folks to tag along. But they come along regardless. One is Lord Kalidor, who has sworn to protect (and if need be, destroy) a powerful artifact in Gedren's possession. Another is young Prince Tarn, whose kingdom has been vanquished by Gedren's forces. He, in turn, is accompanied by his bodyguard Falkon, who overlook's all his young charge's faults. These people need Red Sonja, and in her own way, she needs them. And so, as I mentioned in my previous post, "The Gentle Humor of Red Sonja," Clive Exton gathered these other characters around her, and give her a sense of family.

Left to Right:
Inspector Japp, Hercule Poirot, Captain Hastings, Miss Lemon
Photo Courtesy of Gumshoe Pages

Would we have fallen in love with David Suchet's portrayal of Hercule Poirot in the TV series Agatha Christie's Poirot had Clive Exton not surrounded the famous detective with his friend Captain Hastings, his secretary Miss Lemon, and Scotland Yard detective Japp? Personally, I think not. I find the later adaptations, in which Poirot's early family is mostly absent, and he is only surrounded by characters unique to that particular story, rather empty. 

Hercule Poirot & Ariadne Oliver
(Photo courtesy of Pinterest.com)

It's only in the last few seasons, when the production team paired him continually with mystery writer Ariadne Oliver, that the series gave me that buzz that made those early shows so powerful.

But then, that's the importance of family. I'm sure Clive Exton knew it before "Red Sonja," but it's a skill he demonstrated in the fantasy movie, a few years before he perfected it in Agatha Christie's Poirot.

Dragon Dave

Links
Gumshoe Pages 



Tuesday, April 26, 2016

The Gentle Humor of Red Sonja

On paper, the 1985 film "Red Sonja" has a lot going for it. It starred Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sandahl Bergman from the 1981 film "Conan The Barbarian," as well as a host of notable appearances. The story is painted on a broader canvas, and far more complex than "Conan." The movie contains some striking visuals, in locations, in sets, and in special effects. Yet ultimately, it all fails to come together. Perhaps it was just too ambitious a story to relate, given the director's experience and resources. When I initially saw the movie, I dismissed it, as did many others viewers.

Yet something in the film keeps drawing me back, insisting that I watch it again and again. Not only do I feel this call, but my wife does also. We've got the film on DVD. We can stream it on VUDU. We've even downloaded it to our computer, so we can watch it while on travel. Some stories are like that. For all their imperfections, there's still something at the heart of the story that makes it special to you.

While Robert E. Howard created a character named Red Sonya for a historical adventure, it was Roy Thomas who adapted her into Red Sonja, and included her in Conan's Hyborian Age. Even more so than in the earlier "Conan" movie, "Red Sonja" feels like several issues of a Marvel Comics series faithfully translated to the screen for our enjoyment. One great set piece follows another. None of them are as great as they should be, but they're all fun, or exciting, or visually interesting, or humorous.

Humorous? You naturally think of a Sword and Sorcery story being action-packed, but not necessarily big on humor. Yet the characters in "Red Sonja" have a sweet, endearing quality, and when they are together, you notice the gentle humor between them. It's the same humor that binds Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings together, as well as their secretary Miss Lemon and Scotland Yard Inspector Japp, and makes Agatha Christie's Poirot, particularly those early episodes, so much fun to watch. But then, Clive Exton, who adapted twenty of those early Poirot stories for television, and enhanced Christie's stories and novels to increase the characters' mutual affection, also cowrote the screenplay for "Red Sonja."

No wonder I love the 1985 movie "Red Sonja" so much.

Dragon Dave

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Hastings Complains In Poirot Investigates


Most evenings, my wife and I read a few pages of a story before we drift off to sleep. Right now, we're about halfway through Poirot Investigates, the third book Agatha Christie published that featured her ingenious detective Hercule Poirot. Like the first two novels, The Mysterious Affair at Styles and The Murder On The Links, the short stories in this collection are narrated by Captain Hastings. Unlike the first two novels, I'm not enjoying them. Or, at least, not as much as I wish I were.

Part of the problem is that I'm not in love with the short story form. When I read, I care about the characters, and a novel gives the author lots of pages to explore that. With a short story, the author has to focus in on the action, the plot, and underpinning idea. So I suppose that's some of the reason for my dissatisfaction with the book.

I think the major reason I'm not enjoying this collection though is because of how Agatha Christie portrays Captain Hastings. In Poirot's first novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, Hastings might have initially fancied the idea that he was smarter than Poirot, but he also showed great respect for Poirot's instincts and deductions. That's not to say that he never questioned his friend's decisions, but he went along with (what seemed to him) the little Belgian's wackiness more often than not. In The Murder On The Links, however, Hastings seems to be chafing at his friend's actions, and calling into question everything he says and does. Perhaps not verbally, but at least inside himself. I came away from that second novel feeling that Hastings had felt Poirot was wrong every step of the way during the investigation. That's not to say I didn't enjoy Hasting's role in the second novel. Christie really takes him on personal odyssey, and he sort of grows-up by the end of the novel. It's as if he's been clutching onto his friendship with Poirot because he's not really to venture on ahead with his life, whereas by the end of The Murder On The Links he's ready to be his own man. So I enjoyed that aspect of his part of the novel. I just didn't enjoy the complaining, distrusting, thinking-Poirot-is-wacky part.

This theme continues in Poirot Investigates. Perhaps people who read the Hercule Poirot stories before they saw the TV series based on these stories will feel differently, but the Poirot and Hastings I fell in love were the 50 minute adaptations. Each episode expanded upon the story it was based upon, and screenwriters such as Clive Exton infused them with character, strengthening the bonds between Hercule Poirot, his secretary Miss Lemon, Chief Inspector Japp, and especially (or so I felt) his friend Captain Hastings. The Hastings in the TV series might have questioned Poirot, might have gently begged to differ with him, but the Hastings in Christie's stories sometimes grows so angry with Poirot that he storms off at the end of the story, and needs weeks until he can stand being with Poirot again. When he reappears in the next one, he may be over his previous huff, but he's all too eager to think his friend is wacky again.

I used to think it was a shame that Agatha Christie didn't put Captain Hastings in more of the novels. Now I think I understand her reasoning. She needed someone to call into question everything Poirot did, and after awhile it seems tiresome and unrealistic if the same sidekick is doing that. So she brings in other characters who don't know him so well to fulfill that function, and ultimately, be amazed by his brilliance. 



Look at these two. They're firm friends. They practically exude affection and mutual respect. That's the Captain Hastings that I fell in love with, that I want to encounter again and again: the TV version of Hastings, not the one Agatha Christie created. I'd hang out with him any day, any time. More importantly, so would Hercule Poirot. Still, if Agatha Christie hadn't created her Hastings, screenwriters such as Clive Exton couldn't have created the version I love.

Still, who knows? I might feel entirely different about Captain Hastings by the time I finish the remaining stories in Poirot Investigates. Maybe, for whatever reason, I'm just in a huff.

Monday, May 4, 2015

The Mysterious Battle of Ypres


Agatha Christie wrote her first Poirot novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, during World War I. Her day job--filling prescriptions in a dispensary--gave her the idea of how the killer would poison Mrs. Inglethorp. She wrote her first draft by hand, then typed up a second. But according to Bill Peschal's notes in The Complete, Annotated Mysterious Affair At Styles, the story grew more complicated with each draft, until her ingenuity crashed into a brick wall. With her creativity stifled, she left Torquay to spend some solitary time at the Moorland Hotel in Dartmoor. When she returned home, she had figured out the intricacies of the plot, and carried a completed manuscript.

No doubt she had some work still to do, massaging and fine-tuning her writing. But Peschal states that she finished it in 1916. World War I was still going on at that point, and although she began submitting her manuscript to publishers, The Mysterious Affair at Styles would not be published until 1920, two years after the war had ended. 



Agatha Christie introduces us to Lieutenant Arthur Hastings by having him narrate the novel. In the first few paragraphs, he explains that he was recovering from injuries in a military hospital when he happened to bump into his old friend John Cavendish. In his adaptation of The Mysterious Affair at Styles, screenwriter Clive Exton introduces us to Arthur Hastings by showing him in a dark projection room. There he sits with other wounded soldiers and watches newsreel footage of the Battle of Passchendaele, or the Third Battle of Ypres. The silent black and white images play out on the screen, accompanied only by the sound of the projector's clicking, as the operator turns the film reel with a hand-operated crank. Hastings watches soldiers climbing from their trenches, fighting on the battlefield, and tanks blasting at enemy positions. Then the images change, and he sees Belgian refugees disembarking from the ships that brought them to England. Although Hastings doesn't know it yet, one of those Belgian refugees is none other than his old friend Hercule Poirot. Or, at least, that's what Clive Exton suggests, by inserting this scene into his TV adaptation.

The Battle of Passchendale, or the Third Battle of Ypres, was a controversial campaign that, all told, cost hundreds of thousands of lives. Yet refugees began arriving in cities and towns all over England shortly after the war began in 1914. Their presence in Torquay inspired Agatha Christie to feature them in her novel, and make the star of her novel a Belgian police officer. So here's the question: Why do you think Clive Exton set his adaptation of The Mysterious Affair at Styles in 1917 instead of two or three years earlier, when Agatha Christie actually conceived it? And does it alter Christie's story in a substantial way? 


Some related links
See The B&W Newsreel Footage that Arthur Hastings watched.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Hercules Poirot & the Scarlet Pimpernel Part 2


In the TV adaptation of Agatha Christie's novel The Mysterious Affair at Styles, soldiers charge through the trees, dive onto the ground, and aim at faraway targets with their rifles. Then someone shouts, "Hold your fire," and an elegantly attired foot alights on the fallen leaves beside one soldier. As he looks on, the feet mince past him, and the tip of a walking stick points to a particular plant. 

Then a cultured voice lectures, "Another example of the English bucolic beliefs." After stating the Latin name of the plant, which he translates into common English as the Scarlet Pimpernel, he says, "It is believed that when this flower is opened it is a sign of a prolonged spell of fine weather." The camera travels up to Hercule Poirot's face, and he smiles regretfully. "It is seldom open in this country."

As I said in Part 1, this scene does not appear in the novel. It therefore begs the question why Clive Exton, who dramatized it for TV, inserted it. Is it simply about Poirot instructing his fellow Belgian refugees that, as "guests in this country," they must learn the English language, beliefs, and culture, so that they can gain "the confidence of the natives?" Is it intended to demonstrate how Poirot often looks silly to other, as he blithely galavants through a muddy forest, in his formal clothes and delicate shoes, totally oblivious to the war games and the gunfire going on around him?



Or did Exton write it to introduce Poirot into the story far earlier than in Christie's novel?


What do you think?