Welcome to Murder on the Orient Express

I know it's been a while since I last posted a blog post. There's been some tragedy in my life and it's been taking me a while to work through and get into a place where I can regularly write again. However, this weekend, I was finally able to do something "normal" - go to a local play. 

My community center occasionally hosts a theater group. This time they were putting on an adaptation of Agatha Christie's famous story Murder on the Orient Express. I am very familiar with this story. I've seen the original 1974 somewhere in the hundreds of times. I read the book in college (for fun). I've seen the David Suchet adaptation. I've been listening to a podcast called "All About Agatha Christi" that goes through all of her novels and short stories. I've even watched that vanity project Kenneth Branagh calls an adaptation. 

I know the ending of the mystery, but that's okay. Because its how we get to that ending and how it's handled is what is most interesting. 

The play was fine, certainly entertaining, but mostly just fine. I liked some of the changes made. They expanded the role and personality of at least two characters - though a bit at the expense of other characters. Additionally, they removed about 5 characters from the original story. Though it is understandable that changes must be made during an adaptation, this choice was a bit unfortunates. The number 12 is incredibly symbolic in this story and some of that gravitas is lost by the exclusion of those characters. 

All of the adaptations have some character shuffling and plots dropped. I find that the 1974 movie is the closest to the book, while the Branagh version takes the most liberties. I find that the Suchet version has some confusing flaws, but overall an entertaining watch. Though there are other TV adaptations, these three are the ones I am most familiar with. 

- - -Warning Spoilers Ahead- - -

It is in the Suchet version that we first start to see shifts in characters. The Countess is made to be a bit more delicate than in both the book and the 1974 version, while the Princess is shown to be more of the mastermind than the two characters who really planned the murder. Additionally, one of the characters is missing, with the doctor now having a connection to the murder. Originally, the doctor was just a random person in another part of the train. 

The characters in the Branagh version have been placed in a tumbler, shaken around, and dropped into the story. Some of the changes are interesting (like combining the doctor and the colonel into one person and making him a Black man - this added a whole new element to his romance with Miss. Debeham). Others seems to exaggerate already made changes from the Suchet version (the Countess appears to have manic depression and may have a drug habit). One character was actually from an entirely different Poirot story and removes some of the original book character's racism. 

The real character change in the 2017 version was to Poirot himself. I'm sorry, but Poirot is not an action star (despite what the out of nowhere novel The Big Four might try to have you believe). Poirot is a thinker, not someone who chases other people on a precariously located bridge.

The play toned down some of Poirot's funnier quirks and took away some of his gravitas. However, I loved the changes and combinations made to the characters who were included. The Princess is a much bigger presence with a louder personality. In this version, it makes sense that she's a friend and confidant to an actress. Mrs. Hubbard gets to show up her show tune side (she's supposed to be a dramatic actress, but a comedic musical theater performer works well with her character). Some of the characters who were written out do get mentioned, so there is acknowledgement that they

My favorite change, in the play adaptation, was to the Countess. Her husband isn't included in the play, so she's already traveling on her own. She's introduced as eye candy, but the audience is quickly put in their place when she slaps the future murder victim after he acts like a total creep to her. She then becomes the doctor character as she volunteered to become a nurse during the first World War (the story takes place in the 1930s). She's awesome in the play...a bit to the determent of other characters like McQueen and the Colonel. 

The play was a lot funnier than any of the movies or even the book. In the 1974 movie, Poirot has some funny moments that are fairly dry. The Suchet adaptation includes the series running joke that Poirot will only eat his boiled eggs if they are exactly the same size. The number of funny moments in the Branagh version, I think are mostly unintentional (good lord who approved that mustache?). I liked the humor that was added to the play. There was some physical comedy between two characters trying to hide their romance, Mrs. Hubbard performed some fun showtunes, and the Princess had some of the best comebacks.

However, the real star of every adaptation must be the Orient Express herself. In the 1974 version, you know the train is a main character, shepherding her passengers through the snowy terrain. The Suchet version doesn't feature her engine as front and center, but the cinematics beautifully show off her interiors and lets her presence be known to all who are trapped onboard while murder investigation takes place. I'll also concede that the Branagh version got this right, too. The play does a decent job of including and acknowledging the Orient Express. Though we only see one part of one car, you can't help but feel the claustrophobia as characters dodge each other while running around or how tiny the compartments are when you have a bunch of people crammed together looking over a dead body.

No adaptation of The Murder on the Orient Express can be complete without the Orient Express and each version shows her beauty in some capacity. My favorite will always be the 1974 version with how the music is perfectly timed to crescendo as the engine's front light illuminates as she begins to pull out of the station

Unfortunately, the play's ending just didn't have the same dramatic feel or impact as any of the other adaptations (yes even the melodrama of the Branagh one). I mentioned earlier that the play lacked the inclusion of the symbolic 12. The murder victim is stabbed 12 times in the book. There are 12 people with direct connections to a pervious murder case (technically 13, but one person doesn't stab the body in the book or movies). There are 12 threatening notes to the murder victim before he is killed. When the Colonel goes on his rant about justice he mentions that 12 jury members deciding the fate of a plaintiff is a solid system. There are 12 occupied compartments in the first class train car. Poirot continues to come back to the number 12 because he's noticing it everywhere. 

The number 8 doesn't have the same symbolism, nor is it repeated as often. It is 12 people needed for a jury to convict a criminal, not 8. And it's 12 people who commit the crime in a symbolic act of justice after the justice system failed them.

Poirot was also not as forceful as other adaptations in the play (not that the actor didn't play him well, I'm fairly certain it was the material). Poirot is a man who takes pride in the justice system. He was a policeman in Brussels prior to fleeing to the United Kingdom during World War 1 and becoming a private detective. In nearly all versions, Poirot is torn as to whether or not he should tell the police what really happened while they were trapped on a train in a snow bank. The Suchet and Branagh versions have Poirot angrily verbalizing this indecision, but eventually allowing the murderer(s) to go free. The play has Poirot more sad than angry. 

I like the 1974 version best, where Poirot leaves the choice up to his friend (who is not involved with the murder). They go with the simple solution, not only because it would the easiest, but because it's what all the characters deserve.

The Murder on the Orient Express has long been one of my favorite mysteries. The 1974 version will also likely always be my favorite adaptation. My recent personal tragedy has nothing to do with the book or play except that it was a story that the person I lost also loved. We frequently watched the 1974 movie and had fun picking apart the Branagh version. I had wanted to take them to see the play, but we never had a chance to talk about it. 

And that's okay.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me. 

Welcome to Noir Falcons

 Please note that this blog post discusses a book that was written nearly a century ago and a movie that came out in the 40s. If you’re unfamiliar with the plot of The Maltese Falcon, you have been warned.

I recently picked up a used copy of The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett. The same Dashiell Hammett who wrote The Thin Man which was an early movie mystery series that had its own fandom.

I could continue on with this tangent, as I am also a fan of the Thin Man movies and book. However, I am meant to be writing about The Maltese Falcon - famous on its own as the pinnacle of noir stories - which came out a few years earlier.

The Maltese Falcon was written in serialized form between 1929 and 1930. It was published as a book in 1930 - just as the Great Depression was kicking into high gear. The movie came out roughly a decade later, in the midst of World War II. Though it doesn’t seem like a long time, the US was a very culturally different place in those short ten years.

Between 1930 and 1941, the United States rebounded from an economic disaster, ended prohibition with the 21st Amendment, entered the Second World War, transitioned from silent films to “talkies”, and implemented the Hayes Code (I promise the last one is relevant). 

My copy of the book seemed to have been modified a bit to better align the narrative with the movie’s timeline. Spade makes a few references to cases in the 1930s that shouldn’t be in the text if it was formally published in 1930. Thus, I don’t know how many other changes may have been made to my copy of the text. 

However, if my copy of the book only has the date changes, then the 1941 movie adaptation is incredibly good (with a few difference that would never get past the censors).

My introduction to The Maltese Falcon and the noir genre in general was through parodies. “Rugrats”, “Animaniacs”, and “Tiny Toons” all had an episode dedicated to noir. The “Rugrats” episode “Radio Daze” even has a “dingus” like the falcon called The Malties Woodchuck (so called because it was hiding malted milk balls). Additionally, “Star Trek: The Next Generation” had a few episodes where Captain Picard role-played as a Detective on the holodeck.

Additionally, film noir heavily influenced the characters Jessica Rabbit (Who Framed Roger Rabbit) and Helga Sinclair (Atlantis). Those two characters helped shape my understanding of what a “femme fetales” was. 

All of these media influences shaped my understanding of film noir and (more importantly for this blog post) The Maltese Falcon. Did my expectations match my experience?

Kind of…

There was plenty of mystery and fast talking, shady characters. Sam Spade is certainly a man’s man of a detective, but he’s also a cad - stringing along his partner’s widow is only the tip of the iceberg. Gutman is the greedy leader of the thieves, but he’s also not as brilliant or violent as I expected. The gunman Wilmer Cook actually has a personality in the book and movie instead of being a nameless, faceless entity. Joel Cairo’s character I mostly new from stills and promotion for the movie. 

But it’s Brigid O’Shaughnessy’s character that surprised me most. She may be smart and devious, but she’s nowhere near as confident as the femme fetales I’d become used to. Honestly, I find her a bit pathetic - likely an act to get Sam on her side, but even her confession and reactions at the end aren’t very strong. She kind of just stands there, teary eyed and trembling as Sam explains how he know she set him up. It’s not the reaction Jessica or Helga would have, that’s for sure.

Despite these breaks in expectations, I do see why The Maltese Falcon is the iconic book and movie that it is and its influence on the noir genre. It’s a good story about very flawed, despicable people (including Sam Spade). Humphrey Bogart bring likability to Sam Spade, but he isn’t a good guy - not in the slightest. 

Honestly, all of the actors in the movie version make the characters a lot more likable than their book counterparts. 

Additionally, there are changes from the book to the movie adaptation. Some scenes are shorten or skipped entirely. A few characters don’t make an appearance at all such as Spade’s lawyer and Gutman’s daughter. There are also a few things that had to either be implied or cut out entirely due to the Hayes Code (I said it would come back).

In the book, there are a few scenes describing naked or semi naked women. At one point Spade forces O’Shaughnessy strip in a bathroom to see if she had palmed $1000 from him. In another short (and stomach turning) scene has Spade finding Gutman’s daughter drugged out of her mind with only a robe on in a hotel room. The Hayes Code wouldn’t have allowed any of that in an American cinema.

And though it’s only hinted at though 40s cinema language, Spade does indeed have sex with O’Shaughnessy in the book. The scene picks up while he’s getting dressed, but it’s obvious they hooked up.

Finally, I need to talk about the other coding in the movie. The Queer Coding.

In the movie, Peter Lorre expertly plays the queer coded character Joel Cairo. In the book, there is no coding. Joel Cairo is called out for being gay right from his introduction. It’s not a flattering portrayal of gay people - Spade is quite awful to Cairo even before he knows he’s a villain. However, it is openly stated.

Additionally, it’s heavily implied that Cairo is in a relationship with the gunman Wilmer Cook. Something that isn’t present at all in the movie.

We can thank the Hayes Code for that omission as well.  This wouldn’t be the first or last time that queer characters would be smoothed out for cinema - this is why we have the term Queer Coding. Nor is it the first or last time that queer characters are used as villains in a story. The Hayes Code helped solidify these tropes and prevented growth for LGBTQIA+ characters in film for nearly all the 20th century.

Overall, I understand the appeal and importance of The Maltese Falcon to American cinema, pop culture, and genre. It helped to establish tropes and characters that are still easily recognizable today. I also find it dated. 

The book is easy to read and follow. The characters leave a lot to be desired, but they are fully realized, complex characters.

It’s a story to be appreciated for its place and time in American culture. It certainly established Bogart as a leading man.

Could it be updated for modern audiences? No idea. There are apparently really bad adaptations (including a romantic comedy in 1935) and a very close 1931 adaptation that included scenes that couldn’t be shown at all to audiences (the strip search I mentioned above). There was also a parody sequel released in the 70s.

And even if it could be adapted for a modern audience, would we want it to be?

I don’t think I would.

Let me know in the comments what your favorite noir (played straight or parody) is. Who Framed Roger Rabbit is probably mine.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you like hearing from me.

Until next week.

Welcome to Sleepy Hollow

 Not too far north of New York City, along the Hudson River, lies Tarrytown. It was while American writer Washington Irving was visiting an inn in Tarrytown, that he first heard the folk lore of the region - which included a certain headless horseman. Not long after Irving would publish the famous short story "Sleepy Hollow". 

The Sleepy Hollow town in New York today actually got its name about 30 years ago when the town of Tarrytown expanded to include the the area known as Slapershaven in the earliest years of Dutch colonialism in America. This name literally translates to "Sleeper's Haven" (according the village history page). 

When I lived in New Jersey, I lived about a half an hour from Sleepy Hollow, New York and spent some time enjoying the small town. It really takes it's legacy as the home Bram Bones, Katrina van Tassel, Ichabod Crain, and the Headless Horseman seriously. My personal favorite event was the annual pumpkin festival that included hundreds, if not thousands, of carved pumpkins lit up in festive displays. 

What Sleepy Hollow is not, is anything like the 1999 Tim Burton movie. 

Instead of a dark rural area with a forest to the west. Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown are bright urban areas with a giant river to the west. It's also really close to Manhattan Island - even on the commuter trainline. It might have taken the average New Yorker in the 1790s half a day to get to.

Also, that movie is a terrible adaptation of the original short story.

The original "Sleepy Hollow" story is considered an American classic. However, the legends of headless horseman go back to Europe such as the Irish dullahan - which is actually an evil fairy. Irving may have been influenced by the folklore of his Scottish family (which also have headless horseman legends) along with stories about the Revolutionary War and other folklorists that were his contemporary.

The interesting thing about the story of "Sleepy Hollow" is that Ichabod isn't really a hero - his more of our modern day "nice guy". In fact, Irving doesn't seems to even like his main character - often portraying his motivations and actions as being less than honorable. The object of his affection, Katrina van Tassel, is just that - an object. Whereas Ichabod's rival, Brom Bones, actually seems to care about the person Katrina is. Ichabod is more interested in Katrina's beauty and her father's property.

In fact, it's heavily suggested that the headless horseman ghost of the story is less of a ghost and is instead Brom Bones playing another prank on Ichabod (he does several throughout the story). Ichabod is well known for being superstitious, despite his claims that his education makes him superior to the "simple" people of the rural town. Ichabod believes that he brings culture to the sleepy little village...with some success with the ladies, while really annoying everyone else.

The Disney version (which can be viewed on Disney+ with Mr. Toad) comes the closest in the adaptations I've seen to getting the spirit of the story across. It's also got some great musical numbers. However, the Wishbone episode "The Legend of Creepy Collars" is probably the best direct adaptation of the story I've seen.

This weekend, my sibling and I went to a ballet adaptation of "Sleepy Hollow" at one of my local theater productions. It was a lot of fun - though I don't remember any witches in the original story. There were plenty of beats from the original story along with a few additions that were clearly influenced by the 1999 Tim Burton film - like a tree with skulls on it. 

The ballet was about an hour and half long with beautiful dancing. The ending of the story was also slightly changed to make the headless horseman real rather than a prank by Brom Bones and Katrina feel bad about Ichabod's prank - honestly I was a little confused by this choice. Otherwise, I enjoyed the performances (especially when the little kids came on stage).

"Sleepy Hollow" is a fun story that is often misinterpreted and has some language that raises eyebrows in the modern day (specifically around Native Americans and Black people). I'd love to see a reinterpretation or adaptation that centers around Katrina and Brom's relationship rather than Ichabod's creepy obsession with Katrina. 

If you have an adaptation of "Sleep Hollow" you enjoy or have been to the town of Sleepy Hollow, let me know in the comments. 

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me.

Until next week.