Sparkling Cyanide [VHS] [1983]

This adaptation of Agatha Christie's novel Sparkling Cyanide (aka Remembered Death) by Sue Grafton (yes THAT Sue Grafton),Steven Humphreys and Robert Malcolm is a a great mystery movie. Not completely faithful to the original--the movie opens prior to Rosemary's death instead of one year after, Southern California vs. WWII England--but the main elements of the story are there, and it's a tight, well-written adapting of the plot. I've seen the movie many times and recently re-read the book and I couldn't say which I prefer.

My mother and I stayed glued to the tv on a Saturday afternoon accusing everyone of doing it. We were wrong all the way to the end. What fun!!

See, this is why I don't drink the bubbly, and especially not when heinous skullduggery is in the offing. SPARKLING CYANIDE, as in most of Dame Agatha Christie's murder mysteries, posits that homicide recognizes no social boundaries. When an affluent Pasadena attorney hosts a gathering in an attempt to re-enact his wife's murder-by-cyanide, the joke's on the counselor as he himself falls prey to the fatal powder, once more slipped into a glass of champagne. In steps Harry Morgan's police captain who exudes a world-weary professionalism as he pursues the case. It's not so easy hobnobbing with the gentry, probing into high society. Suspects are well-connected. Secrets are jealously hoarded, grudgingly surrendered. Red herrings populate the investigation.

Even before the killings, the film takes time to establish a slew of motivations. And so we're readily clued in that there's no dearth of suspects, including lovely Iris Murdoch (Deborah Raffin), a translator for the Foreign Service who with these two murders stands to inherit a sizable fortune. Also muddying up the case is the evasive Tony Browne (Anthony Andrews), an English journalist for the London Times (or so he claims). Going into the movie, I had Anthony Andrews pegged as the male protagonist (ah, but does this bite me in the rear?). Andrews arrives with his British charm intact. I've had a soft spot for the guy since he and Jane Seymour captivated hearts in the classic Scarlet Pimpernel mini-series that broadcast one year before SPARKLING CYANIDE.

Would you believe that there are two made-for-TV whodunits which adapt SPARKLING CYANIDE? This version is the one that aired on CBS. In this modern-day retelling (circa 1983), the venue shifts from the hallowed drawing rooms of England to the colonies, specifically to sunny Southern California. This certainly serves to switch up the mood a tad. Closet Anglophile that I am, I contend that you lose a touch of verisimilitude and a smidge of elegance when bartering British accents for mostly American ones, even though a few British accents are peppered in. As it is, there's a daytime soap opera vibe to the thing.

This adaptation also swerves from the novel in that it discards Colonel Race - one of Christie's semi-recurring characters - as the main sleuth. In fact, it dispenses with him altogether. And yet, no worries, we're still privy to them juicy illicit affairs. There's still skullduggery in polite company. And I think the denouement comes across as quite clever, relying as it does on one of Christie's go-to observational traits (that ***SPOILER ALERT for the rest of this sentence*** no one ever notices the servant). And, in adherence to proper Brit sleuthing, the murderer's unveiling even takes place in a drawing room. Like another reviewer mentioned, I randomly pointed my finger at him and her and them, only to be proven wrong in the end. All in all, this is a passable whodunit. But you have to be in the proper humor. You have to be willing to let the narrative run its course. There is misdirection and there is bland romance. There's lots of talking and dashing about in stately abandon. Even though it feels a bit dated, SPARKLING CYANIDE is fun escapism for you and me, ardent mystery buffs that we are. It wrings a confession out of me: I think this film deserves an above average rating of 3 out of 5 stars.