If I hadn’t read that this was based on an Agathie Christie novel, I never would have guessed. I mean, there’s not even a parlour room denouement. Well, there kind of is, but it’s in a 1970s version of a gadgets-of-the-future house, so does a breakfast nook next to a hidden underfloor swimming pool count as the right place to bring it all together?Whatever else I can say about the film, it’s commitment to delivering on its seventies vibe is stellar. There’s big Bentley’s, big sunglasses, ascots and fuzzy cardigans. And who wouldn’t want to live in an architect-designed country house, complete with remote controlled floors and walls, that will change shape on the press of a button. Sadly, my home doesn’t have a fully stocked bat that can pop out of the wall, and now I feel deprived.As for the film itself, it’s nicely odd. It drip feeds mystery through a fore-fronted layer of melodrama and romance, giving it an off-kilter feel. Especially when it adds in some psychedelic visual flourishes and brief hazy no-context flashbacks. It feels moody, and its that vibe that has you questioning things, more than the plot. Mostly I think you’re just supposed to sit back and roll with what’s being narrated to you, up until you can’t of course. Which is just the last fifteen minutes or so.I’m choosing to ignore Hayley Mills’ American accent, because that aside her and Hywel Bennett were pretty great in their roles as the central couple. Mostly the same with the supporting cast, although there were a few moments that veered into pantomime levels of ham. But that feels comfortable in such a British production. If nothing else, the film features an older lady taking her two cats for a walk. And I think we can all agree that that is a peak cinema moment.














