We are still slowly binge-watching Poirot, and it is still delightful. The only sad thing is that some episodes dramatize actual Agatha Christie stories, so we start the episode aware of who the murderer is.
I do love the idea of a fussy person dealing with murder. Poirot tends more to the Monk end of the Monk - Columbo detective scale.
But, the best part of the show is not the plot, or the mustache, or the charm, it is the accent. Or, rather, zee accent, mes amis. Poirot will say something and Gary and I will parrot it, trying to mimic the accent. Most recently, pom-poms from a Pierrot costume were a plot point.
Poirot: “Eet was zee pumpum.”
Gary and I: “Pompom! Pompum? Pumpum. Zee pumpum! Eet was zee pumpum!”
I have given up trying to get Gary interested in this show. There isn’t much to binge, it only ran one season in 1975. I remember it because it was the only hour my family spent without arguing. We only saw a few episodes before our family counseling appointment was moved to Thursday nights, and there was no way to record it.
I loved the format (before the last commercial Jim Hutton as Ellery whirls toward the camera and says, “So, did you figure it out?” I loved that. I was thirteen, so I also loved Jim Hutton. If you are young, insert mental picture of Timothy Hutton here.
The oddest thing is that I finally got to see it again, and I remembered far more of it than seems possible. I remember the plot, the intro music, the jokes, the minor characters, the quirks, my Mom’s reaction to a near-accident, and 90% of the denouement.
Truly, I don’t see how this is possible. There were no re-runs, no videotape. And I know we saw at least three episodes, and this pilot contains almost everything I remember. I also remember Ellery misplacing his teacup on top of his hat, and either that was in a later episode or my Ellery Queen neuron overlaps my Henry Higgins neuron.
I suppose I stored the memory of my family getting along the same way I would remember a breaking news story, so outside the norm that I would replay it in my head to make it real.
It is a shame Gary refuses to watch it, but I am going to dole it out as a treat for myself once a week.