July 4

I buy a DVD that I just know I am not going to like - Agatha and the Curse of Ishtar - but I am sure you all know why I bought it - yes, because the Agatha is Agatha Christie.  I know I am not going to like it because of the title.  It is an attempt to make the film sound Agatha Christieish, but actually it sounds more Enid Blytonish.  Enid Blyton or Indiana Jones - one of the two.

The story is supposedly set when Agatha Christie visited archaeologist friends in Iraq after the failure of her first marriage and her subsequent breakdown.  It clings loosely to the truth for this much is true, as is the fact that it was at this dig that she met her second husband, Max Mallowan, also an archaeologist.

Like the film on Tolkien, there is a lot I could write about this film, despite the fact that it is obviously just meant as a bit of fun and not as a correct record of Christie's life.  The acting is hamish: over-dramatic and silly; each of the actors behave as though they are at a murder mystery dinner and have to act as suspiciously as possible.  The plot is difficult to follow, not because it is complex, but because no one really seems to know what the actual mystery is. And then, of course, there is the romance. 

Now this is my take on things.  If I was going to make a movie about any aspect of Agatha Christie's life, I would at least research it, and when I say research, I don't just mean the sort of things like  she arrived in Baghdad on the 29 April 1929. I mean I would research her character as well  - and Max's and anyone else with a real life counterpart.  

Agatha Christie was an incredibly shy, unassuming and private person.  I personally don't feel she is the sort of woman who would lock the door of the tomb (yes, tomb doors can be locked) so she can let Max (far too good looking) rip her clothes off and they can have a quickie amongst ancient artifacts.  Here, once again, is a classic case of viewing the past through modern eyes and ascribing modern behaviour and sensibilities that are out of sync with the time depicted.

Nearly five years ago, I sat next to Agatha Christie's grandson at a dinner for winners of the Write Your Own Christie Competition.  I happened to mention to him how I disliked the TV adaptations of Miss Marple (which are more drastically changed than Poirot) and his reply was that the producers had to try and capture a young audience.  I have heard this argument before and don't agree with it.  In fact, I think it demeans the audience because it assumes that they have limited expectations.

So much on television and film these days has to be in your face obvious.  It would be more interesting, and indeed more exciting, to see romance just suggested: hands touching, demure looks exchanged.  That might not sound terrifically exciting, but nor is rampant sex with lots of huffing and puffing of the type we see over and over again.

Although John tells me I am reading far too much into it than the film warrants, he keeps coming up with things that don't make sense either.  The house in which all the characters stay is far too grand and beautifully furnished.  Agatha and Max usually rented local Arab houses, used upturned crates as tables and slept on the floor - but then, you wouldn't know all that if you hadn't done some research.