“He was hardly more than five feet four inches but carried himself with great dignity. His head was exactly the shape of an egg, and he always perched it a little on one side. His moustache was very stiff and military. Even if everything on his face was covered, the tips of moustache and the pink-tipped nose would be visible. The neatness of his attire was almost incredible; I believe a speck of dust would have caused him more pain than a bullet wound. Yet this quaint dandified little man who, I was sorry to see, now limped badly, had been in his time one of the most celebrated members of the Belgian police.” – Captain Hastings on Poirot
Today is Hercule Poirot’s 37th Death Anniversary! (I was so tempted to buy that necklace with the handlebar mustache pendant at Accessorize during my date with HS friends last Saturday solely in honor of this day.)
Some pirate (Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of rum!), I won’t mention who (lest I be asked to walk the plank), had downloaded every episode of Masterpiece Mystery PBS’ “Agatha Christie’s Poirot”, copied them in CDs and lent them to me.
I was still on the night shift when I started watching the episodes. Every weekday, I rushed home at 7 in the morning, waited for hubby to leave for work (He’s not into AC anyway but I do know finds the Poirot kittehs in Icanhascheezburger.com hilarious), curled up with Kitty C, and watched Christie’s characters come to life. It was a bad habit; couch potatoing instead of resting, but it was a cozy routine that I looked forward to everyday.
In the books (yes, I’ve read and reread most of the novels over and over and over…), I thought Poirot to be pompous and annoying. On TV, watching David Suchet give life to the Belgian detective made me think otherwise. He portrayed Poirot as an eccentric but likable character. He is Poirot! — the egg-shaped head, the round-ish physique, the impeccably groomed mustache, the painstakingly tidy fine suits, the patent leather shoes, the cane, the pince-nez, the manners and mannerisms…
… and then there were the opulent sets, the beautiful locations, the Art-Deco styles, the vintage cars, the make-up, the costumes, the ladies’ dresses and their hairstyles…
C’est tres magnifique!
P.S. Said pirate pointed out the noticeable difference between US-made and Brit-made shows: Most of the actors in US-made series are hot. Police detectives, crime scene investigators, blood spatter analysts (yeah, you, Dexter), lawyers, janitors, medical examiners are hunks and hot chicks – their faces are one big container of Botox. Even crime victims look beautiful playing dead on morgue tables or alive albeit in distress (Rapunzel in Grimm had well-groomed eyebrows and a touch of blush on her flawless skin despite living in the forest isolated from society and surviving by scavenging through campers’ stuff for so many years. Rapunzel must have pinched a jar of La Prairie skin caviar and teeth whitening strips from a vain trekker’s NorthFace backpack. Grimm again. Can’t seem to get over the show).
Brit TV actors are chosen mostly for their acting skills and not for their celebrity status or bankability. I get “Woah-ed” seeing their yellowing teeth and wrinkled faces magnified in a 32inch TV… but I’m wowed by their talent, so…who cares?