My partner and I saw Knives Out last night and had an absolute blast with it. The fact that I’ve been in a murder mystery sort of mood anyway, and had started reading Agatha Christie’s most well-known Poirot novel, Murder on the Orient Express, a couple of days prior only added to my enjoyment, too, I’m sure.⠀
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This was my first time reading this story, although I have seen — and thoroughly liked — Kenneth Branagh’s film adaptation a couple of times. What surprised me reading the original work is just how cold and calculating Poirot is with this particular case. I’ve read only a handful of the Poirot books, but just enough of them to know that he can be quite the fierce and impassioned character when the mood strikes. Going solely by Branagh’s interpretation (as well as David Suchet’s, which I have not seen, but have heard enough about), you are led to believe that this is Poirot’s hardest, most trying case, and so I went into the book expecting a Poirot full of righteous anger. And then by the time you get to the end you realize that, actually, this is all pretty damn standard for him. He even explicitly comments on it, at one point.⠀
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Which I think is pretty damn great. As much as I can appreciate the Shakespearean drama of the modern adaptations, there’s something brilliant about this ridiculous, charming little man just relentlessly plowing through everyone’s nonsense to get to the truth. And at the end of it all, leave the resolution entirely in the hands of somebody else. Mainly, the reader. “I cannot judge this,” indeed.⠀
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Anyway go see Knives Out if you love Agatha Christie stories and also straight up spoofs of Agatha Christie stories like Clue. It’s too good.