Agatha Christie, a name synonymous with mystery and intrigue, has captivated readers for generations. As a devoted fan, I always approach adaptations of her work with a blend of excitement and trepidation. While some adaptations triumph in bringing her intricate plots and compelling characters to life, others, unfortunately, miss the mark. The 2015 BBC adaptation of Partners in Crime, starring David Walliams and Jessica Raine, falls into the latter category, proving to be a disappointing rendition despite its source material’s charm and previous successful adaptations.
Initially, anticipation for this series was muted, an unusual feeling for an Agatha Christie enthusiast awaiting a new screen adaptation. Despite promising visuals showcased in promotional material, the casting choices felt questionable, and the writing appeared clunky even from the trailers. Having finally watched the series without preconceptions or direct comparisons to the source novels or the beloved 1980s Partners in Crime series, the result was undeniably underwhelming.
One cannot deny that the production values are a significant strength. The series excels in recreating the ambiance of 1950s Britain. Visually, it’s sumptuous, with scenery that is both beautiful and subtly mysterious, reflecting the period’s aesthetic with meticulous detail. The stylish cinematography and atmospheric lighting further enhance the visual appeal. Among the cast, Jonny Phillips delivers a genuinely unsettling performance in The Secret Adversary, proving that understated menace can be deeply effective. Christina Cole as Mrs. Sprot also offers a commendable portrayal of vulnerability and quiet strength.
However, the positives largely end with the production design and a couple of supporting performances. The central issue plaguing Partners in Crime is the glaring miscasting of David Walliams as Tommy Beresford. While Walliams is a successful comedian and actor in his own right, his portrayal of Tommy is jarringly out of sync. The initial apprehension that he might feel out of place proved to be accurate. Walliams’ performance vacillates awkwardly between buffoonish overacting and wooden underplaying, never settling into a comfortable or convincing portrayal of Tommy. His attempts at comedic moments feel forced, while the dramatic scenes come across as overwrought and unconvincing.
Jessica Raine, as Tuppence Beresford, fares marginally better, but her performance is still far from satisfactory. She appears disengaged and lacks the inherent charm and authoritative presence that defines Tuppence in Christie’s novels. Raine’s interpretation leans towards being overly forceful in dramatic situations, which feels misaligned with the character’s spirit. Furthermore, her portrayal often feels too contemporary for the 1950s setting, creating a disconnect. Crucially, Walliams and Raine lack any palpable chemistry, making their on-screen relationship feel strained and unbelievable. Instead of portraying a loving and adventurous partnership, they often seem to irritate each other, undermining the central dynamic of Tommy and Tuppence. Regrettably, they collectively manage to make these usually delightful characters quite grating. The supporting cast suffers from a similar lack of chemistry, which detracts from the suspense and pacing of the narratives, with many actors appearing uncertain in their roles.
Despite the visual richness, the series falters significantly in its music, script, and overall storytelling. The musical score is intrusive, consistently too loud and melodramatic, often overpowering scenes that would have benefited from subtlety or silence. The script is clunky and heavy-handed, lacking the light-hearted suspense that characterizes Christie’s Tommy and Tuppence stories. Instead of an engaging mystery, watching the series feels like a laborious effort, with dialogue that frequently pulls the viewer out of the 1950s setting and into the 21st century. The dialogue itself is stilted, burdened with poorly executed comic elements, overwrought dramatic exchanges, and mystery elements that are underdeveloped and far from tense.
The storytelling in both The Secret Adversary and N or M? adaptations is deeply flawed, particularly in the former. While the original novels might have moments of slower pacing, they are inherently engaging. However, the series adaptations become ponderous due to excessive padding, especially in the initial episodes of The Secret Adversary. Scenes intended to build tension often become labored and tedious. Furthermore, unnecessary additions and alterations to the plotlines either introduce silliness, serve no purpose, or actively confuse the narrative. Even when the pacing improves in later episodes, moments of momentum are often undermined by plot inconsistencies or outright ridiculousness. The direction, while visually competent in establishing the period setting, fails in guiding the actors and managing the storytelling effectively. Many cast members seem adrift, and the narrative direction lacks focus and clarity.
In conclusion, while some viewers might find that Partners in Crime improves as it progresses, for many, including myself, the series never truly ignites. This is particularly disappointing for someone who generally seeks to find merit even in weaker adaptations of Agatha Christie’s work. While not the worst Agatha Christie adaptation ever produced, this Partners in Crime series stands out as one of the most disappointing, even when judged on its own merits, separate from the high standards set by its source material and previous adaptations. It earns a rating of 3 out of 10.
