Sybil Bruncheon's “A Few of My Favorite Things”… Agatha Christie's "Hercule Poirot"...

These are some of the most famous portrayals of Agatha Christie's iconic character, Hercule Poirot... and each may have its strong points, entertaining nuances, or annoying weaknesses.

In my opinion, and again, it's only my opinion, (like my feelings about performances of Jane Marple) some are loaded with brilliance, and others are... um... well, nearly unforgivable. In fact, I will not even name them all because of that; sulky, arbitrary, unintelligible, pedestrian, self-indulgent, high-schoolish, frivolously clownish... I'm amazed Christie hasn't clawed her way up through the rocky clay to seize some of them by their throats and drag them to Hell!

On the other hand, for me, there are two ideal Poirots; for the "small screen", it's of course, David Suchet. Interestingly, if you've seen him in other projects, he personally bears no resemblance to the little Belgian detective, short of being... well, short. (He's only 5' 7") He created the small egg-shaped appearance of Poirot by padding himself, changing his center of gravity, slowing his stride to mincing little steps, confining all his gestures to close-to-the-torso hand-fluttering, and reducing his naturally deep manly voice to higher-pitched whispering. His Poirot could almost be accused of being a fey "camp" impersonation of a 1930's "faggot". His fussing and compulsive housekeeping would be off-putting in a lesser actor, but Suchet carries it all off, and charmingly so. Coincidentally, Peter Ustinov, who played Poirot to Suchet's Inspector Japp many years earlier, told Suchet that he could play Poirot himself and gave him some of the Christie books to read... and the rest is history, literally! Suchet holds the record for playing the little detective in more projects, in more venues, and for more years than any other actor... in history!! His mustache alone underwent an extraordinary evolution as can be seen in the reruns!...

... and a Poirot for the "silver screen"? For me, it can only be Albert Finney. When he first appeared in 1974, audiences were startled by Finney's mannerisms, his stylized vocalization and gestures, and the fact that he'd evolved from being a "leading man" (of sorts) into a such an extreme almost freakish character. But director Sidney Lumet loaded the film with such an extraordinary supporting cast, such style and elegance, such beautiful cinematography, editing, and a lush film score to boot, and all confined in the tight compartments of the Orient Express that Finney's Poirot felt perfectly natural. His meticulous fastidiousness even while dying his hair and mustache is perfect. In fact, he was nominated for an Oscar as Best Actor, and the film received another five nominations in other categories.

When the story was remade yet again later in 2017, the budget was 50 times greater; there were spectacular but unnecessary CGI exteriors and vistas, a surprising dearth of style and elegance, and superfluous embellishments... like that absurd mile-wide mustache, and reconfigured into a Van Dyke of all things!!... you notice I haven't mentioned the actor/producer by name... oh well.

I guess it just goes to show that some characters in the history of fiction, no matter how iconic and brilliant, are not "actor proof"... Fortunately, Christie was dead before most of these stumbling attempts were made. A blessing of sorts. Right before she died, she stated that MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS (1974) was one of her two most favorite films of her work. The other was WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION (1957)... with no Hercule Poirot!

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Interesting People": Vladimir! ...and Natalie!!

...poor Vladimir! He grew up in a time and place that didn't understand his predilections, his desires, his deepest secret, and the journey he wished to take! Where to go? Who to even ask??? And how would it be accomplished? Even in this new century, with all its new marvels and scientific discoveries, was it actually possible to become the person he was meant to be? Fortunately, his family were members of an ancient and respected imperial court located in an out-of-the-way corner of the Balkans. The name is not important, and the principality was one of dozens tucked "cheek-by-jowl" in a constantly bickering and conspiring area of the mountainous Eastern European wilds. Finally, a nice theatre and ballet professor that Vladimir had had at Acting Camp suggested a Dr. Victor Phrahnkenshteen in Bavaria who was making breakthroughs in revolutionary eye-lifts, nose reductions, tummy tucks, and ....um, more. Six months later, Vladimir re-emerged like the rare "Moldavian Purple Caprice" butterfly. He, or rather "she" (her new name was Natalie Dragomiroff!) took her place in royal society as a person of great influence in the arts and sciences, in fundraising circles and events, and at great galas and pageants! Her pet causes included the Bosnian Blood Drive, The Wallachian Wolf Welfare Society, and improvements in railway safety.

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