"TOWARDS ZERO" (2025) Photo Gallery

 

Below are images from "TOWARDS ZERO", the BBC's 2025 adaptation of Agatha Christie's 1944 novel.  Directed by Sam Yates and adapted by Rachel Bennette, the three-part miniseries starred Matthew Rhys:

"TOWARDS ZERO" (2025) Photo Gallery

"POLDARK" Series Three (2017) Episodes Six to Nine

 

"POLDARK" SERIES THREE (2017) EPISODES SIX TO NINE

I have a confession to make. Viewing the BBC's current adaptation of Winston Graham's "Poldark" literary series has become increasingly difficult over the past year or two. Although I had expressed a good deal of admiration for show runner Debbie Horsfield's adaptation of Graham's first three novels, I began expressing a good deal of wariness as the series progressed into her adaption of the fourth and fifth novels.

I did not like Horsfield's adaptation of the second half of Graham's 1953 novel, "Warleggan: A Novel of Cornwall, 1792-1793". My opinion of the show runner's adaptation of Graham's 1973 novel, "The Black Moon: A Novel of Cornwall, 1794-1795" was even lower. Because of this, I had faced Horsfield's adaptation of the 1976 novel, "The Four Swans: A Novel of Cornwall, 1795-1797" with a great deal of trepidation.

Episode Six picked up where Episode Five left off - near the end of "The Black Moon". Following Ross Polark's rescue of Dwight Enys and other prisoners-of-war from France, he is regarded as a hero within his parish, much to the annoyance of his nemesis, banker George Warleggan. Even more annoying to George was the refusal of his cousin-in-law, Morwenna Chynoweth, to marry the man of his choice - the morally bankrupt and toe sucking Reverend Osborne Whitworth. But when Drake Carne, Morwenna's love and Ross' younger brother-in-law, is framed by George for stealing Geoffrey-Charles Poldark's bible (it was a gift), the young woman caves in and agrees to marry Whitworth. Meanwhile, Dwight's wedding to heiress Caroline Penvenen is delayed, due to his physical and emotional recovery from his ordeal. Several months later, a wedding is held for the couple and attended by the local gentry and aristocracy - including the Poldarks, the Warleggans and the Whitworths. Meanwhile, Ross is courted by a local baronet named Sir Francis Basset to run for office as a Member of Parliament (MP). The Warleggans and other local merchants clash with Sir Francis' rival, the aristocratic Viscount Falmouth, by refusing to his candidate for political office. The Warleggans turned to Sir Francis, who agrees to support George's campaign for MP. As for George, he has one last clash with Agatha Poldark over her desire to hold a birthday party to celebrate turning 100 years old. This clash leads to an exchange of spite in which George reveals that she will only turn 98 years old . . . and in which Agatha hints that his son Valentine was not an eight month-old baby and might have a different father - possibly Ross.

For reasons that still boggles me, Debbie Horsfield had decided to re-structure Winston Graham's saga by mixing at least the last third of "The Black Moon" with the first third of "The Four Swans". Why she thought this was necessary, I have no idea. Was this her way of attempting to trim the series' adaptation of "The Four Swans"? Perhaps not, because she plans to complete her adaptation of "The Four Swans" in Series Four. But why did she feature Dwight's post-war emotional problems, his and Caroline's wedding reception, and Sir Francis Basset's attempt to recruit Ross for Parliament, (all of which occurred in "The Four Swans") before Aunt Agatha Poldark's death (which occurred in "The Black Moon")? Why did she do that? Was this supposed to improve Graham's tale? Because it did not. It eventually occurred to me Horsfield had dragged "The Black Moon" narrative into the one for "The Four Swans", because of her unnecessary and badly written additions that played out between Episodes One to Five.

The end of the series' adaptation of "The Black Swan" made a good deal of Episodes Six and Seven seem a bit anti-climatic. But there were at least two or three scenes that impressed me. And they involved veteran actress Caroline Blakiston, who portrayed Agatha Poldark. One scene focused on Ross' clandestine visit to Trenwith to see his great-aunt. The scene involved subtle and rather touching performances from both Blakiston and Aidan Turner, who did a great job in conveying the affection and love between the two characters. The next scene featured George's decision not to hold Agatha's birthday party and her toxic hint about young Valentine's true father. The scene conveyed all of the dislike and spite that the pair held for each other, thanks to the marvelous performances of Blakiston and Jack Farthing. This particular scene was capped by another in which a dying Agatha tried to warn her former great-niece-in-law, Elizabeth Warleggan, about her act of indiscretion. This moment provided Blakiston with a great death scene and she was ably supported by a first-rate performance from Heida Reed.

Many fans of Winston Graham's saga have regarded the title of his 1976 novel as a metaphor for the four major female characters in this story:

*Caroline Penvenen Enys
*Morwenna Chynoweth Whitworth
*Demelza Carne Poldark
*Elizabeth Chynoweth Poldark Warleggan

I must confess that I was not that impressed by the handling of Caroline Enys character in the 1977 adaptation. I hate to say this, but I found the portrayal of Caroline in this new adaptation equally problematic. Like the 1977 series, this adaptation failed to explore the problems that plagued the Enys couple. Yes, Horsfield touched upon Dwight's problems with Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). But his problem was quickly solved within one episode, thanks to Ross' suggestion that fellow prisoner-of-war Hugh Armitage to provide some company to poor Dwight. I found Horsfield's quick solution to Dwight's emotional problem rather shallow and rushed. But what really irritated me was that she had failed to adapt the conflict that developed between Caroline and Dwight over his medical practice.

In "The Four Swans", Dwight had been spending a great deal of his time with his patients - too much, as far as Caroline was concerned. In fact, the novel seemed to indicate that Caroline harbored a low opinion of Dwight's profession and could not understand his reluctance to embrace the role of a landowner. Not once did Horsfield explore this story arc. And I understand why. It did not portray Caroline in a positive light and it made her look like a bigger snob than she did in "Jeremy Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall, 1790-1791". More importantly, this story arc revealed that even Ross could be a snob himself. Instead of understanding Dwight's loyalty to his patients, Ross advised Dwight to adhere to Caroline's wishes. In her never-ending efforts to whitewash popular characters like Caroline and especially Ross, Horsfield ignored this particular story arc.

Horsfield did a better job portraying Morwenna Chynoweth Whitworth's marriage to the odious Reverend Osborne Whitworth. In Episode Six, Morwenna finally capitulated and married the upper-class vicar after her cousin-in-law, George Warleggan blackmailed her by threatening to charge her beloved Drake Carne with the theft of a bible that had been given to the latter by young Geoffrey Charles. I noticed that Horsfield changed the circumstances surrounding Morwenna's decision to marry Osborne. Instead of George using Drake's arrest for theft, Graham's novel featured Morwenna's mother being summoned to Trenwith for a long talk with the younger woman. In the end, Mrs. Chynoweth convinced (or coerced) Morwenna to become Mrs. Whitworth. I must admit that I slightly prefer Horsfield's take on this story arc. I found it less complicated . . . even if it made George look like an ultimate villain.

But I have two complaints. One of them featured Morwenna and Osborne's wedding night. Both the 1977 series and this recent adaptation conveyed Osborne's sexual assault upon Morwenna after she had given birth to their son, Conan. But also like the previous adaptation, it had failed to adapt his sexual assault upon his bride on their wedding night, which was featured in "The Black Moon" novel:

"So supper ended, and in a panic she complained or sickness after the ride and asked if tonight she might go early to bed. But the time of waiting, the time of delay was over; he had already waited too long. So he followed her up the stairs and into the bedroom smelling of old wood and new paint and there, after a few perfunctory caresses. he began carefully to undress her, discovering and remov­ing each garment with the greatest of interest. Once she ­resisted and once he hit her, but after that she made no protest. So eventually he laid her naked on the bed, where she curled up like a frightened snail.

Then he knelt at the side of the”bed and said a short prayer before he got up and began to tickle her bare feet’ before he raped her."

To this day, I never understood why this scene from "The Black Moon" was deleted from both the 1970s series and the current one. What were the reasons for Anthony Coburn, Morris Barry and Debbie Horsfield for deleting it from their adaptations of the novel? Because it featured rape? Yet, both adaptations had no problems with including Osborne's rape of Morwenna after she gave birth to their son. In the case of the current "POLDARK" series, I would have found it difficult to believe the emotional and sexual distress that Morwenna had suffered during her marriage to Whitworth if it had not been for one scene that featured him intimidating the former into a sexual quickie before they could attend the Enys-Penvenen nuptials. Frankly, I found myself feeling slightly intimidated as well, thanks to Christian Brassington's performance. But the ironic thing is that there was no such scene in "The Four Swans". But . . . why did Horsfield add that scene, and yet deleted the Whitworths' honeymoon scene from the novel? What was the point? My second problem with Morwenna's story arc centered around the depiction of Osborne's affair with his sister-in-law, Rowella Chynoweth. One, it felt slightly rushed in compare to how the 1977 series portrayed it. Also, Brassington's screen chemistry with the actress who portrayed Rowella, Esme Coy, did not exactly impress me. While everyone contemplated on whether Rowella was truly attracted to Osborne or not, I just could not invest my interest in their affair.

I was very disappointed with Horsfield's portrayal of Elizabeth Warleggan in Episodes One to Five of Series Three. Very disappointed. The only thing Horsfield got right about Elizabeth in those episodes was her support of George's efforts to coerce her cousin Morwenna into marrying Osborne Whitworth. Otherwise, Horsfield subjected viewers to her portrayal of Elizabeth as a cold mother to her newborn Valentine and an alcoholic/drug addict. As everyone know, George and Elizabeth continued their efforts to coerce Morwenna to marry Osborne in Episode Six, until George finally succeeded by blackmailing Morwenna, when he threatened to have Drake convicted for theft. Unaware of George's blackmailing scheme, Elizabeth seemed satisfied that Morwenna had settled into her marriage with Osborne. She also expressed concern for Morwenna's health after the latter had given birth. I enjoyed how actress Heida Reed conveyed Elizabeth's firm insistence that Dwight Enys examine poor Morwenna, instead of another doctor, after the latter gave birth to a son. And the actress' chemistry with actor Harry Marcus, who portrayed the young Geoffrey Charles, struck me as very charming and spot on. There were two scenes in which Reed had the opportunity to shine as Elizabeth.

One of those scenes involved Elizabeth's encounter with Ross at Sawle Church . . . the very encounter that Prudie Paynter had witnessed in Episode Eight. I have to be honest. I found this scene rather disappointing. Although this moment featured Elizabeth and Ross alone together, it struck me as rather mute. Come to think of it, neither Reed or Aidan Turner shone in this scene. And both have managed to create a very strong screen chemistry in the past. Reed and Turner's performances seemed a bit too restrained for my tastes. And I believe the problem stemmed from Horsfield's attempt to re-write Ross' rape of Elizabeth in Series Two as consensual sex. For the Sawle Church yard scene, gone was Elizabeth's bitter anger over the rape and Ross' unwillingness to accept that he had done wrong. Instead, the scene was shot as a semi-romantic encounter between two former lovers discussing the child they had conceived. Not only did this scene failed to work for me, I found it very frustrating. It was clearly another effort made by Horsfield and the BBC to deny that Ross was guilty of rape. I find this effort to whitewash Ross' character in this story arc increasingly repellent.

On the other hand, I was very impressed by the scene featuring Elizabeth's emotional argument with George over Drake Carne, Ross and Agatha Poldark. Both Reed and Jack Farthing gave superb performances in which Elizabeth conveyed exactly how strong-willed she could be. While many have regarded Elizabeth as weak, I never did. I have always believed that she was willing to be the traditional and supportive wife, due to her upbringing. This willingness to be the traditional wife led Elizabeth to commit the second biggest mistake in her life (marrying Francis was the first) - support George's efforts to marry her cousin Morwenna off to Osborne Whitworth. But I have noticed that the older she became, the more Elizabeth was willing to reveal the steel beneath the passive manner. This should have been indicative in Elizabeth and Ross' reunion at Sawle Church. And this especially seemed to be the case in Elizabeth's showdown with her husband George in Episode Nine. A good deal of Elizabeth's confrontation centered around her attempt to convince George that Valentine was his son. Personally, I do not blame her. It is bad enough that a good deal of the saga's fandom seemed to regard her as some kind of manipulative whore and blame her for the night of May 9, 1793. George had already given an inkling of his cold behavior, following Agatha's revelation about Valentine's paternity. But Elizabeth also included her own disapproval of his treatment of Drake Carne and his use of Tom Harry as his personal henchman during their quarrel. The scene, thanks to Farthing's emotional outburst, made me realize how much George loved Elizabeth.

It took me a while to even consider the following . . . that many of Debbie Horsfield's changes to Graham's story had a lot to do with the characters of three people - Ross Poldark, Demelza Poldark and George Warleggan. It seemed to me that most of Horsfield's changes were all about idealizing both Demelza and Ross (to a certain extent); and magnifying George's villainy.

Ross became dangerously close to becoming a Gary Stu (male version of Mary Sue) in these four episodes. Episode Six began with him raising crops on his estate to feed those out-of-work miners from the Warleggans' Wheal Leisure. No such thing had occurred in "The Four Swans". All Ross did was offer jobs to some unemployed miners to work at his mine, Wheal Grace. Remember the story arc of George's aversion to toads? Well, Ross' actions clearly labeled him as a bully. And yet, Horsfield portrayed this revelation in a semi-comic moment. Why? Considering the present view of bullying, why expose Ross as a childhood bully in a semi-humorous manner? That was nothing in compare to what happened at Dwight and Caroline's wedding. Instead of the reception being all about the happy couple, Horsfield used this event to celebrate Ross' heroics in France. Yes, I realize that Ross was responsible for Dwight and Caroline being able to wed. But honestly? Why was it so necessary for her to pound this into audience by having the wedding guests celebrate Ross' heroics, instead of the bride and groom?

Another aspect of Ross' portrayal in these four episodes that I found laughable was this attitude toward him running as a candidate for Parliament. Everyone - from Demelza to Sir Francis Basset - seemed to regard Ross as a potential political savior for Cornwall. Even the media had been pushing this idea in various articles about the upcoming Season Four. And yet . . . Ross Poldark never struck me as the type of who could be regarded as a successful politician. He has always seemed too impatient, temperamental and judgmental. Lord Falmouth seemed to be the only person who did not regard Ross as some political savior. He simply wanted to use Ross as a tool to punish the Warleggans for rejecting his political clout.

Ross spent most of these four episodes rejecting the idea of running for Parliament. Do you want to know what finally led him to consider the job? Local miners threatening a riot for much needed grain. And yes . . . this did NOT happened in "The Four Swans". There was riot in the novel. Miners even stole from the grain stores. However, Ross had been ordered, as commander of the local militia, to arrest the leaders of riot. And one of them was hung. However, Horsfield changed this story arc by having Ross and his militia platoon confront the rioters before they could steal the grain. Ross used this moment to finally declare his intent to run for Parliament. By this point, I was ready to shove my fist into the television screen. Was Horsfield really that concerned over viewers seeing Ross arrest the rioters before one of them was hung? To the point that she had to create this ludicrous situation? I have always considered the hanging as a sign of the price Ross would be forced to pay for associating himself with political sponsors like Sir Francis Band Lord Falmouth. I am not saying that Horsfield had portrayed Ross as a perfect person. His personal flaws were on display. But I noticed that she only seemed willing to display his flaws whenever Demelza was concerned.

If it were not for the story arc that featured Demelza Poldark's relationship with Royal Navy officer, Lieutenant Hugh Armitage, I believe I would have found it difficult to like her during the second half of Series Three . . . or to stop regarding her as the series' Mary Sue. It seemed as if Horsfield tried too hard to transform Demelza into some 21st century feminist icon. And I found this rather odd, considering that she is a character from a story set during the late 18th century. There were scenes featuring Demelza that made my teeth clinch. They include:

*Demelza behaving like an action girl, as she raced through the countryside on horseback to prevent her younger brother Drake from being beaten by George Warleggan's henchmen. No such scene was in "The Four Swans". Drake's unconscious body was found by some local people.

*Demelza sang at one of the soirees hosted by Sir Francis Basset. Horsfield has been giving actress Eleanor Tomlinson chances to display her singing talent throughout the series' run. I had no problem with this during the Trenwith Christmas dinner sequence back in Series One. Her performance served the story. But after two years of Horsfield pausing the narrative to inject moments of Tomlinson's singing skill for the sake of idealizing Demelza's character has become too much to bear.

*One scene featuring Demelza offering tea and sympathy to Morwenna for the end of the latter's relationship with Drake. The two characters never interacted with each other until the latter half of the 1977 novel, "The Angry Tide: A Novel of Cornwall, 1798-1799". This little moment struck me as nothing more than another cheap and unnecessary change made by Horsfield to make Demelza's character look sympathetic.

The story arc regarding her and Hugh Armitage made her seemed less of a Mary Sue . . . somewhat. The excellent performances of Eleanor Tomlinson and Josh Whitehouse certainly helped. The pair managed to create a first-rate screen chemistry. More importantly, I thought they did a great job in conveying Demelza and Hugh's sexual interest in each other. After all, Hugh must have been the first man of her generation to harbor any sexual interest in her. Ross is a decade her senior and had married her in the first place for reasons other than love. Worse, Demelza had spent the previous seasons being pursued and pawed by lustful older men like Sir Hugh Bodrugan and Captain McNeil, who seemed to regard her as easy prey due to her class origins. Does this mean I supported Demelza's act of adultery, like so many? No. I understood why she did it. But I still believe she did the wrong thing. I am not a supporter of the "eye for an eye" mentality. While a good number of fans cheered Demelza for paying back Ross for his infidelity in Series Two, I only felt contempt toward her. She had lowered herself to his level. Well . . . almost. At least Demelza's act of infidelity was not tainted by rape.

But I also had two problems with this story arc. In "The Four Swans", Demelza had made the decision to have that one afternoon of sex with Hugh on her own, despite Jud Paynter informing her of an interaction between Elizabeth Warleggan and Ross at the Sawle Church. In this adaptation, Demelza was egged on by Nampara's housekeeper, Prudie Paynter, who had witnessed Ross' interaction with Elizabeth. This twist by Debbie Horsfield not only struck me as unnecessary, but a lame attempt to shift some of the blame for Demelza's infidelity to Prudie. I mean . . . come on! Really? Even worse, this entire sequence ended with Ross waiting at Nampara, confused by Demelza's non-appearance. Now, I found this confusing. Why did Horsfield took a scene from near the end of "The Four Swans" and tacked it on the ending of Series Three - especially since she had not finished adapting the novel? Why did she do this? To end the season with a cliffhanger? To have everyone wondering if Demelza would return to Ross? Of course she would! Where in the hell else can she go? To Verity? To her stepmother? Caroline and Dwight? How long could Demelza's "visits" to those households have lasted? Stay with Hugh? Considering his health issues, how long would that situation have lasted? I am still wondering why Winston Graham and Debbie Horsfield had Ross speculating on whether Demelza had left him or not in the first place. He should have known that as an 18th century wife, her prospects outside of her position as his wife were not that great.

I have one last complaint about Demelza . . . and it concerns one of her costumes in the image below:

Why? Why did Demelza wear the above house dress that exposed her cleavage in this fashion during the daytime? And she wore this outfit so often . . . even away from the house. Why? No respectable woman during this period in history - regardless of class - would wear such a outfit. Unless she was prostitute displaying her wares. Costume designer Howard Burden should have known better . . . or done his homework.

During my article for Episodes One to Five, I had expressed my displeasure at what I saw was Debbie Horsfield transforming George Warleggan into a one-note villain. I never understood why Horsfield thought this was necessary. Fortunately, most of George's questionable actions in Episodes Six to Nine could be traced to both "The Black Moon" and "The Four Swans" . . . including his emotionally distant behavior with Elizabeth and his violent harassment of Drake Carne. Blackmailing Morwenna into marrying Osborne seemed to be the only act that had been created by Horsfield. And I had already mentioned my only problem with it. I do have one major problem with Horsfield's portrayal of George in these later episodes. Remember the grain riot that Ross was ordered to snuff out? The owners of the grain stores were nameless merchants in the 1976 novel. In "POLDARK", George owned the grain stores. Why? I have not the foggiest idea. To magnify George's villainy even further . . . when it was not necessary? To establish that Ross need to run for Parliament in order to single-handedly "save" Cornwall from the Warleggans? Sigh. I am afraid this might be the case. Horsfield seemed to have transformed this entire story arc into a morality play for ten year-olds.

There were other aspects of Series Three's second half that I noticed. The four episodes also featured Drake Carne's childish retaliation against George for disrupting his romance with Morwenna. He did so by placing toads - something that George loathed - into Trenwith's pond. Horsfield added a twist to this story by establishing George's revulsion to toads. Ross and a few others boys used to shove toads down his breeches when they were kids in order to punish George and the Warleggans for trying to attain a higher social position. Harry Richardson, who portrayed Drake Carne, gave a nice performance, but he did not exactly float my boat, so to speak. And Drake's actions led to George retaliating in one of the worst possible ways - being framed for the theft of Geoffrey-Charles' Bible. Sam Carne's burgeoning attraction to Tholly Tregirls' daughter Emma. Despite Tom York and Ciara Charteris's competent performances, I must admit that I could not maintain any strong interest in this story arc. There were also the story arc regarding the political rivalry between Sir Francis Basset and Lord Falmouth. I have nothing against the performances of both John Hopkins and James Wilby as the two politically-inclined landowners. Both were excellent. But to be honest, this story arc really belonged to Ross and George.

In the end, Debbie Horsfield managed to disappoint me in her adaptation of Winston Grahams' novels from the 1970s - "The Black Moon" and "The Four Swans". These two novels, along with 1977's "The Angry Tide: A Novel of Cornwall, 1798-1799", are regarded by many as the best in his twelve-novel series. And yet, Horsfield has proven herself incapable of adapting these novels with any semblance of subtlety or intelligence. She has transformed two of Graham's best novels into borderline romance novels. God only knows what she will do to "The Angry Tide" in Series Four.

Sexist Tropes in "POLDARK"

 

SEXIST TROPES IN "POLDARK"

After watching the recent "POLDARK" television series for the past few years and reading the commentaries on these episodes and especially two particular characters - Demelza Carne Poldark and Elizabeth Chynoweth Poldark Warleggan - I have come to a disturbing conclusion. Despite the advent of the feminist movement, we still live a sexist society. Because our society remains sexist to this day, many people - women included - tend to view female fictional characters from a sexist view. This was especially apparent with the opinions of the two major female characters in "POLDARK", as demonstrated in articles like this.

I have noticed that producer Debbie Horsfield and many of the series' fans and critics seemed hellbent upon viewing both Demelza and Elizabeth through some Whore/Madonna trope. The situation regarding Demelza and Elizabeth strikes me as rather ironic. In many works of fiction and sometimes in real life, women of working-class backgrounds are usually perceived as sexually permissive or a "whore". And women from a middle-class or upper-class background are usually perceived as virtuous or "the Madonna". Not only do a good number of men apply this type of categorization upon women, other women do as well.

What made this trope ironic in "POLDARK"? The low-born Demelza - a miner's daughter who became main protagonist Ross Polark's servant and later, wife - has been regarded by many fans as virtuous or . . . "the Madonna". In contrast, Elizabeth Chynoweth, a landowner's daughter, has been more less labeled as a "whore" by said fans. Elizabeth, who had originally been courted by Ross before he left to serve in the British Army during the American Revolution, ended up marrying his cousin Francis Poldark. She later married Ross' neighbor and nemesis, George Warleggan after Francis' death.

I suspect that if Demelza had not married Ross and become the main female protagonist, she would not have become so highly regarded by the fans. After all, she was low born. And she had sex with Ross, while serving his household as a kitchen maid. Right before their marriage. Ross ended up coercing her into marrying him in order to put a stop to the rumors about them. But I believe what really saved Demelza from being labeled "the whore" by readers and television viewers was the presence of the one woman she regarded as her nemesis - namely her cousin-in-law and Ross' first love, Elizabeth Poldark Warleggan née Chynoweth. In the fans' eyes, Elizabeth had made the mistake of rejecting Ross upon his return from the American Revolutionary War and marrying his cousin Francis. The literary Elizabeth honestly thought she had loved Francis and felt that Ross would not be the right husband for her. The recent series depicted Elizabeth as a woman torn by her feelings for Ross and slightly coerced into marrying Francis by her mother. To make matters worse, following Francis' death, Elizabeth had married Ross' nemesis, banker George Warleggan for his money. She needed his money to save the Trenwith estate for hers and Francis' son, Geoffrey Charles.

I have a confession. Originally, I had believed this sexist view of both women stemmed from Demelza being the saga's main female protagonist and Elizabeth's rejection of Ross and her decisions to marry Francis and George. While Demelza was portrayed as this near perfect woman, especially in the series by show runner Debbie Horsfield; she was constantly praised by fans and critics for not only being "ideal", but also the "ideal" mate for Ross. Elizabeth was portrayed with a more negative tone. As I had stated earlier, Debbie Horsfield changed the nature of her reason for rejecting Ross and marrying Francis. Horsfield used Demelza's class origin as some kind of "Cinderella" fairy tale. Elizabeth was subtlety criticized for being a member of the upper-class and marrying Francis to maintain the lifestyle she was accustomed to. She was also portrayed as a woman who could not make up her mind about whom she wanted to marry. And then came that night of May 9, 1793.

Any fan of Winston Graham's novels or the two television adaptations of his saga knows what happened that month - Ross and Elizabeth conceived his third child and her second - Valentine Warleggan. For years, many fans have asserted that Valentine's conception was an act of consensual sex between the pair. The 1975-1977 series had portrayed Ross raping Elizabeth before pretending that rape never happened. The 2015-2019 series was worse. It had Ross assaulting Elizabeth and on the verge of raping her. Before he could, she consented to sex at the last moment, transforming their encounter into a "rape fantasy". Only Winston Graham's 1953 novel, "Warleggan", portrayed the encounter as rape. The author condemned Ross' act for the rest of his literary series - something that many fans refuse to acknowledge.

Yet, even before the rape, Horsfield did her level best to set up sympathy toward Demelza and condemn Elizabeth at the same time. As in the novels, Ross had spent a good deal of time at Trenwith, helping the recently widowed Elizabeth deal with estate debts. But in the series, Demelza, her cousin-in-law Verity Poldark Blamey and the audience blamed Elizabeth instead of Ross; who seemed hellbent upon enjoying Elizabeth's company as much as possible. Horsfield even added a scene in which Demelza made a snarky, yet hostile comment about Ross' time at Trenwith that clearly blamed Elizabeth. And fans, to my utter disgust, cheered this moment of misogyny. Horsfield included another scene after the rape that featured an encounter between Demelza and Elizabeth in the woods (this also never happened in the novel) in which the former accused the latter of having a sexually illicit encounter with Ross. Again, I found myself disgusted by this obvious attempt by Horsfield to demonize Elizabeth for something that was never her fault. I felt equally disgusted by the fans' cheers over Demelza's words.

After the series' adaptation of "Warleggan", I thought I would see the last of this less than ambiguous handling of both Demelza and Elizabeth. I did not. Horsfield provided other examples of idealizing Demelza's character and vilifying Elizabeth's. In the novels that followed "Warleggan", both women had committed major mistakes.

Elizabeth had supported her second husband George Warleggan's attempt to force a marriage between her cousin Morwenna Chynoweth and a highborn vicar from Truro, the Reverend Osbourne Whitworth, who proved to be an abusive husband. Mind you, Elizabeth was not solely to blame for this marriage. One, it was George's idea and he was the one who finally coerced Morwenna into marrying Osbourne - at least in the series (Morwenna's mother was the one who finally coerced her in the novel). But Elizabeth did support his action. It was probably the worst thing she truly ever did. Unfortunately, Horsfield felt this need to portray Elizabeth as a cold and scheming woman, who proved to be initially cold to her younger son Valentine. This never happened in the novel. Worse, Horsfield had transformed Elizabeth into both an morphine addict and alcoholic as a means to express the struggles she suffered as George's wife. Again . . . this never happened in the novel. Why Horsfield thought this was necessary. I have no idea. Elizabeth had found George's paranoia over Ross rather stressful, but not to the point of her becoming an addict.

On the other hand, Horsfield had went out of her way to portray Demelza as this perfect lady, who sang whenever the screenplay allowed actress Eleanor Tomlinson to display her singing ability. There were moments of Demelza racing across the countryside on horseback like some Harlequin Romance heroine in an effort to save her younger brother Drake Carne from being set upon by George's bullies. Actually, some locals came to Drake's rescue in the novel. There was also the matter of Demelza's initial refusal to support her brother Drake romance with Morwenna. Demelza used the differences in Drake and Morwenna's classes as an excuse for her lack of support, claiming she did not want to see both of them suffer in an unhappy marriage. I found this rather hypocritical, considering Demelza had married outside of her class. The series had went out of its way to avoid Demelza's unwillingness to contemplate the idea of Elizabeth's cousin as her future sister-in-law. Although she ended up supporting Drake and Morwenna's relationship in the end, Demelza continued to wish her brother had married a woman of her choice instead of Morwenna in one of Winston Graham's later novels - despite the happy marriage the pair managed to create. The one true terrible act that Demelza had committed was her brief affair with Royal Navy officer Hugh Armitage. Actually, they only had sex once. But once was enough, as far as I am concerned. Many viewers had excused Demelza's infidelity as an act of bad writing from Graham or Horsfield. One blogger used Demelza's rushed romance/marriage to Ross as excuse for her to experience an actual romance with someone of her age. And there were those who used Ross' infidelity - namely the "eye for an eye" - as an excuse. Frankly, revenge sex has never struck me as a good excuse to cheat on one's spouse, unless he was a serial abuser like the Justin LaMotte character from the "NORTH AND SOUTH" series . . . or Osbourne Whitworth. Ross may have been guilty of raping Elizabeth, but I do not recall him ever abusing Demelza in that manner. However, I do not recall anyone slut shaming Demelza for her affair with Hugh.

I might as well be frank. Neither Demelza or Elizabeth were perfect. And neither were monsters. Both women possessed flaws and virtues. And yet . . . the fans and writer Debbie Horsfield seemed incapable of accepting both as complex women. Fans had behaved as if Demelza was the greatest thing since the invention of the wheel. They regarded Elizabeth as "the Whore of Babylon" or worse, a weak and manipulative woman. They seem incapable of facing Demelza’s faults - other than her naivety in late Season One. And they seem unwilling to acknowledge Elizabeth’s virtues. Horsfield's writing for the series did a lot to support their reactions.

I find myself wondering if this inability to accept the ambiguity of both women stemmed from a refusal to acknowledge the idea of Ross Poldark harboring love for two different women at the same time. I do not know. Perhaps this scenario went against their ideals of "true love", marriage and a Harlequin Romance-style story. The unfortunate thing is that producers like Debbie Horsfield of the current series and the producers of the 1970s series - Anthony Coburn and Morris Barry - had seemed more than willing to constantly feed this "Whore/Madonna" mentality regarding the two characters.

"THE A.B.C. MURDERS" (2018) Review

"THE A.B.C. MURDERS" (2008) Review

Years ago, I had once compiled a list of my favorite novels written by Agatha Christie. One of those novels was her 1936 mystery, "The A.B.C. Murders". The novel led to a movie adaptation, a radio adaptation and two television adaptations. One of the latter was the three-part miniseries that was adapted by Sarah Phelps for the BBC.

"THE A.B.C. MURDERS" is a rare tale from Christie. In it, Belgian-born sleuth Hercule Poirot helps Scotland Yard investigate a possible serial killer named "A.B.C.". The killer uses this moniker in the letters sent to Poirot before committing a murder; and leaves an ABC railway guide beside each victim. Although there are several mysteries written by Christie that features more than one victim, "THE A.B.C. MURDERS" marked the first of two times in which the victims have nothing in common whatsoever.

Phelps made some significant changes to Christie's novel. One, this version omitted Captain Arthur Hastings from the plot. I found this incredible, considering Hastings had served as the first-person narrator for the 1936 novel. Chief Inspector Japp made an appearance, but his character was killed off via a heart attack in the miniseries' first episode and Poirot found himself working solely with Inspector Chrome, who was also in the novel. The Mary Drower character, who was related to the first victim, Alice Ascher, was also eliminated. Phelps made changes to the Donald Fraser and Thora Grey characters. Phelps included more detail than Christie in the story's Doncaster murder and added a fifth murder (at Embsay) to the story. She also added a romance for the Alexander Bonaparte Cust character in the form of his landlady's daughter. Phelps explored and changed Poirot's World War I backstory. She also made sure that the first three murder locations had some relevance to Poirot. He had helped deliver a baby aboard a refugee train that stopped in Andover. He had visited the Bexhill café where the second victim, Betty Barnard, would later work. And he had once attended a party at the home of Sir Carmichael Clarke, the third victim.

I was surprised at how beautiful the miniseries' production looked. Although the novel was first published in 1936, Phelps had decided to set her adaptation in 1933. I thought Jeff Tessler's production designs did a superb job in re-creating 1933 England. A beautiful job. And his work was supported by Joel Devlin's excellent photography, which struck me as colorful and sharp; along with Andrew Lavin and Karen Roch's excellent art direction. Another aspect of "THE A.B.C. MURDERS" that impressed me were Lindsay Pugh's costume designs. I thought she did an excellent job in creating costumes for characters that varied in both class and gender in 1933 Britain. This also included costumes for characters that were impacted by the Great Depression, regardless of class.

When it comes to Sarah Phelps' adaptations of Agatha Christie novels, I have mixed views. I really enjoyed her 2015 adaptation of Christie's 1939 novel, "And Then There Were None". I cannot say the same about her adaptation of the author's two other stories, "Witness For the Prosecution" and Ordeal By Innocence". How did I feel about "THE A.B.C. MURDERS"? I am very grateful that Phelps had basically stuck to Christie's main narrative from the 1936 novel. Unlike "ORDEAL BY INNOCENCE", she did not completely revise the narrative by changing the murderer's identity or motive. And unlike "WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION", she did not change the fate of the story's main protagonist.

However, there were a few changes that I liked. One, she included more detail into the story's fourth murder at Doncaster . . . at least more detail than Christie did. In doing so, she prevented this part of the narrative from being irrelevant. And two, she included a fifth murder. Phelps did not have to do this, but I thought it filled the narrative rather nicely. I noticed that the movie went out of its way to get rid of both Arthur Hastings and Chief Inspector Japp. I thought I would be upset about this, but . . . I was not. Their lack of presence did not harm the narrative. More importantly, it allowed Poirot's relationship with Japp's replacement, the slightly xenophobic Inspector Crome to develop from a conflict to a working relationship with a hint of a possible friendship. This did not bother me since Poirot had to deal with a hostile Crome in the novel. And I feel that Phelps' portrayal of their relationship was better handled in this miniseries.

Unfortunately, Phelps used minor changes in the story to continue her campaign to make her Christie adaptations more edgy and angst-filled. These minor changes included transforming the Donald Fraser character into this publicity hound trying to profit from the death of his fiancée, Betty Barnard. What was the purpose of this change? To criticize those who try to profit from the death of others via publicity? I found this irrelevant and unnecessary to the story. The miniseries also featured a potential romance between stocking salesman Alexander Bonaparte Cust and his landlady's daughter, Lily Marbury. In the novel, Lily was Cust's friend and nothing more. For some reason, Phelps thought it was necessary to create a romance in order to convey the idea of Lily walking on his back in heels as a means to release some psycho-sexual need to remove his pain. What was the point of this? To make Cust more interesting? What really irritated me was how Phelps changed the character of one of the supporting character by making that person knowledgeable of the killer's identity long before Poirot . . . and an accessory. Why? To make that character more interesting perhaps? It made me realize that this change made it easier for viewers to identify the killer before Poirot's revelation.

The movie made one last change that I disliked . . . Poirot's personal background. Christie had indicated in many of her novels and short stories that before becoming a private detective, Poirot was a police officer in Belgium. For reasons that still astound me, Phelps had changed Poirot's background from former police detective to Catholic priest. Worse, she had created this mystery surrounding some major trauma during World War I that led him to leave the Church and become a crime fighter. What on earth? The problem with this character arc is that it had nothing to do with the main narrative. It played no role in Poirot's discovery and revelation of the actual killer.

I will say this about "THE A.B.C. MURDERS". It did feature some excellent performances, save for one. John Malkovich was the second American actor to portray Hercule Poirot, the first being Tony Randall in 1965. I found his Gallic accent slightly questionable. But I still admire his portrayal of the Belgian-born detective and found it refreshingly subtle without any theatrics or histronics. Many have complained about Malkovich portraying the most dour Poirot on screen. I do not agree. The actor did an excellent job of conveying Poirot's grief over Japp's death, his weariness from the never ending encounters of British xenophobia and his personal ghosts from World War I. But I never regarded his Poirot as "dour". Frankly, I found David Suchet's portrayal of Poirot in the 2010 television movie, "MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS" rather depressing. I thought Rupert Grint gave the second best performance as the slightly xenophobic Inspector Crome of Scotland Yard. I have a confession. I have always been impressed by Grint as an actor and at times, thought the HARRY POTTER franchise did not provide any real opportunities for him to convey his skills, aside from one particular movie. But I was really impressed by how he had conveyed Crome's journey from an angry and narrow-minded police officer to someone more open-minded, less angry and more willing to trust Poirot.

There were other performances from "THE A.B.C. MURDERS" that impressed me. Eamon Farren gave a first-rate performance as the beleaguered Alexander Bonaparte Cust, a bedraggled traveling salesman who seemed to suffer from epileptic seizures. Anya Chalotra struck me as equally impressive in her portrayal of Lily Marbury, the daughter of Cust's landlady, who has been forced by the latter to prostitute herself for extra money. Tara Fitzgerald gave a very emotional performance as Lady Hermione Clarke, the ailing widow of the killer's third victim, Sir Carmichael Clarke. I could also say the same about Bronwyn James' portrayal of Megan Barnard, the sister of the second victim, Betty Barnard. James did an excellent job of conveying Megan's initial infatuation of Betty's fiancé, Donald Fraser and her jealousy. I found Eve Austin's portrayal of the shallow yet flirtatious Betty rather skillful and memorable. Freya Mayor gave an interesting and complex performance as Sir Carmichael's ambitious secretary Thora Grey. And Andrew Buchan seemed to be the personification of the literary Franklin Clarke, the sexually charming, yet eager younger brother of Sir Carmichael. The miniseries also featured first-rate performances from Jack Farthing as Donald Fraser, Michael Shaeffer as Sergeant Yelland, Lizzy McInnerny as Betty's mother, Mrs. Barnard, Christopher Villiers as Sir Carmichael Clarke and Kevin R. McNally as Japp. If I could name one performance that I found unsatisfying, it would Shirley Henderson's portrayal of Cust's landlady, Rose Marbury. I found her performance rather theatrical and filled with too many exaggerated mannerisms.

I did not dislike "THE A.B.C. MURDERS", but I did not love it. There are aspects of it that I admired, including the production's visual style, writer-producer Sarah Phelps' adherence to the story's main narrative and an excellent cast led by John Malkovich. But I also feel that Phelps had added too many unnecessary minor changes to some of the characters and the story. And I suspect that she did this in another attempt to relive the glory of 2015's "AND THEN THERE WERE NONE". The 1939 novel was a rare creation of Christie's. If Phelps wants to write and produce another mystery on that level, I suggest she consider adapting a novel from another writer . . . perhaps P.D. James. Or she should consider creating her own mystery.