YELLOW PRESENTS: AND THEN THERE WERE NONE pt.2/2

I'm a huge fan of Agatha Christie since I was little. I've recently seen the BBC adaption of "And then there were none", one of my favourite AC's books and I've been compelled to write down this nonsense. I have a major degree in psychology so sometimes it takes over when I write about book/movie characters but, in this case, this crap is mostly about the fact that I enjoyed (loved - really) this adaptation- enjoy.

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There are five movies and a recent miniseries from this book: And there were none (1945 by René Claire) B/N USA, ten little indians (1965 by George Pollock) B/N UK, And there were none (1974 by Peter Collins) EU Color, Desijat' negritjat - (1987 by Stanislav Govoruchin) RUS B/N, Ten Little Indians (1989 by Alan Birkinshaw) and the BBC's and there were none (2015)  but -  the idea is so very incredible -  there are also many homage like the CW’s Supernatural episode from the sixth season “and then there were none” ,  the FOX’s Family Guy parody “ant then there were a few” or Identity (2003, by James Mangold).

And then there were none (BBC - 2015)

promo poster

Supernatural (CW - 2010)

Season 6 episode 16

Family Guy (FOX - 2010)

Season 9 episode 01

The adaptations are quite accurate but often opt for the piece's happy ending. The major changes interest the finale and the setting but there are also minor ones concerning the characters' names, the crimes committed and how they die.

Desijat' negritjat (1987)

Vera Claythorne, Philip Lombard and Henry Blore searching for Dr. Armstrong

One change I hardly understand or like is the location.

The most wonderful think about AC’s books is how she manages to always kill a character in a secluded setting (a locked room, an airplain, a train stuck in the middle of nowhere…) and make it believable. In this book, ten people are lured - under different pretences - to a tiny island known by the name of nigger island. It is a very small island with no harbour and only a little ship reaching its coast once a day with news and groceries. There is only one huge mansion on the island and, except for the personnel, there is no one living there. Just this side of claustrophobic.

Ten Little Indians (1989)

Philip Lombard's tent 

It's the perfect place to make them feel (and the readers/watchers too of course) the thrill of the hunt when they search the all island, rock by rock, and also a sense of protection behind the locked doors of the rooms. The isle is the eleventh character of the story so I don’t understand why the movie from 1989 is set during a safari. A tent flap is not a door. In this movie you completely miss both the thrill and the false sense of protection the book has.

I love the Russian Десять негритят instead. 

Desijat' negritjat (1987)

Vera Claythorne talking to Henry Blore 

This movie is very nice adaptation. They didn’t push it, the characters are all very plausible and the tension between Vera and Phillip is almost a natural evolution of the story. I don’t really get the judge still, he is better of the one from the 1945 movie. They tried to make him a solar, witty character back in the 40s and I think it betrays the true spirit of this character. 

And then there were none (BBC - 2015)

Judge Lawrence Wargrave promo poster

Judge Wargrave is a hard man driven by a perverse sense of justice. He cannot be a nice companion, he has to look like he’s stern, strict and uncompromising but also trustworthy. He is - somehow - a man of honour. Wargrave is our killer but, until the very moment he kills Marston, he is the only innocent man on the island (since his crime wasn’t a crime, he judged guilty someone who – no matter what the proofs said – was guilty).

I believe the Vera from the Russian version is the best one: she shows a rare frailty and strong will at the same time but I don’t like the Phillip from this movie. He is strong and bold, as he is supposed to be, but his acting is too flat.

Desijat' negritjat (1987)

Vera Claythorne arguing with Philip Lombard and Henry Blore

 I love the Philip from the BBC adaptation instead. I know there are a few difference between the Philip from the book and the one from the BBC miniseries but I find this one honest and modern. Honest to himself to begin with. 

And then there were none (BBC - 2015)

Philip Lombard smoking

This MR Lombard is less "victorian" and more convincing. He may have been more of a gentleman in the book but this version suits the caracter better. They are all alone in an island waiting to be slaugtered and he act like the kind of person this character is supposed to be: is a man of action, someone who lives his life fully. 
Also, I don’t recall a scene with him half naked in the book but I’m hardly complaining. 

And then there were none (BBC - 2015)

Philip Lombard and Vera Claythorne speaking

I really appreciate that he admit he murdered 21 people and doesn’t flinch, that he says more than once that he rely on his instincts (and is often right). That's how I have immagined him when I read the book. As for the romance, I think it’s more lust than love.

And then there were none (BBC - 2015)

Philip Lombard and Vera Claythorne dancing

This is another thing they did wonderfully in the BBC version. There is no such a place for true love or nice feelings here. They are monstrous people in an horrible situation and they cope as they can. So, when Vera tries to convince Wargrave to let Lombard – already dead by her hand at the time of the conversation -  take the fall for the killings, she reveal her true colours and I love the director/writers for this. Such an unconventional and revealing script.

And then there were none (BBC - 2015)

Vera Claythorne shoots Philip Lombard 

And, lastly, in the Russian movie you foresee Vera shooting Lombard, it’s quite clear where they are going. In the BBC version there is a moment you wander if she is really going to shoot him or you are going to watch another dull ending with them walking towards the sun holding hands. Anyways, when she shot him and I half screamed NO and then YES. I love the book finale in case you forgot. Vera actually killing Phillip and her conversation with the judge were masterpieces.

And then there were none (BBC - 2015)

Vera Claythorne hanging herself 

And then there were none (BBC - 2015)

Judge Lawrence Wargrave and Vera Claythorn last conversation

As soon as the episode ended, I took my laptop and I started writing this. 

So here I am because "En ma Fin gît mon Commencement" - in my end is my beginning –which is the translation of the Italian title for “Endless night”, another amazing book from AC and - since she took her title from a William Blake work - I think I’ll let go of the Italian translators for quoting Mary Stuart.

Thanks for reading my nonsense.

YELLOW PRESENTS: AND THEN THERE WERE NONE pt.1/2

I'm a huge fan of Agatha Christie since I was little. I've recently seen the BBC adaption of "And then there were none", one of my favourite AC's books and I've been compelled to write down this nonsense. I have a major degree in psychology so sometimes it takes over when I write about book/movie characters but, in this case, this crap is mostly about the fact that I enjoyed (loved - really) this adaptation- enjoy.

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The funny thing about Agatha Christie's novels is that she pinpoints her characters albeit she rarely offers a psychological evaluation of their motives or actions.

I mean, she describes what they've done and tells us why they did it, that's it.
She let us into the character psychology by describing their reaction but she rarely describe the inner rummaging of her characters. Nevertheless, she always makes them believable.

Let's examine Vera Claythorne for instance. AC doesn't waste pages describing the feelings of this character towards what she has done but instead she shows Vera freaking out when a sea weed touches her and she automatically thinks of Cyril's dead hand.

This writer doesn't told us how the character feel she lets us presume that much and, as in Hitckok movies, our imagination will play on our own chords to draws out  our fears or, in this case, emotion. Perception of human emotion, to be fair.

We have to remember AC was a victorian novelist in the victorian era with a soft side for romance. In most novels there is a love story running parallel to the investigation although she is not one to elaborate feelings: it's not her writing style. 
She doesn't really do it even in her romance novels, written under the pen name of Mary Westmacott.

 
Agatha Christie

At the end of the day, AC's books have the advantage to give directors emotional clean characters so they can play around with their feelings as much as they like.

And then there were none (BBC 2015)

And then there were none, polite adaptation for the former title "ten little niggers", introduces only  ten characters who, unlike AC's other novels, don’t share a past. They all are independent.

book cover

It’s a refreshing turn of events from Christie’s usual plots where there are so many hidden secrets in the character’s pasts and they are usually revealed only by the end of the book, if not when the murderer is unmasked.

There are ten, nine to be correct since two characters are a couple prior to the beginning of the story, different background stories.

There is one precise moment - when they are confronted with their crimes - in which their personal storylines intersects and from that moment on, we have ten people forced to be on their own whilst being honest about their darkest secrets.

And then there were none (1945 by René Claire) B/W USA

AC gives us people who have done pretending – such a novelty for a crime story -  but for all their honesty, they cannot allow themselves to put their trust in anyone on the island. And even though this characters are honest to the core and desperately trying to work out their comprehensible mistrust in their companions, we all know how it ends.

I actually like the simple fact that they all are murderers so they get at a deep level why they cannot befriend anyone.

Ten little indians (1965 by george Pollock) B/W UK

On the screen, actors play out or conceal those emotions and it is up to them what to really show. AC’s characters from the book are cut-outs the actors have to paint, sometimes even to embellish.

But “And then there were none” is hardly only about characters.

It’s about the setting and it is about fear but, most of all, it is about justice. I think Lady Christie really believed in justice and she wanted it to be served no matter what. "And then there were none" characters are all criminals and they die one by one according to the severity of their crimes.

And then there were none (BBC 2015) 

At some point you like them, you feel for them - trapped and hunted down - so you almost forget no one is innocent in this story and the ones still alive are so because their crimes are the worst and the murderer wants them to suffer the most.

“And then there were none” is a story of growing paranoia and distrust ‘till the sad end. 
I said sad but, really, truth is they all deserved what they got. It is true especially for the last two “niggers/Indians”.

And then there were none (BBC 2015) 

Vera and Philip deserve to die, no doubts.

She committed the worst crime of the all gathering of murderers and he has no remorse for his past actions. However, he is a mercenary, a gun to hire, we may understand him – somehow – but there are no excuses for Vera killing a young boy so his lover could inherit and she could marry a rich man. She is the last to die and I couldn’t agree more with it nor I could love more the final scene when she takes her on life. 

                                  Ten little indians (1965 by george Pollock) B/W UK

What about Phillip then? As I told before, he doesn’t regret what he’s done. So, where is the real justice in killing him?

This may be the finest example of Agatha Christie’s genius at work: in this character’s death both Agatha the romance writer and Agatha the justice believer kick in. This cocky, ruthless, unforgiving man finally falls in love. He loves and trusts Vera – and unbelievably so they are right to think none of them is the murderer – but eventually she kills him with his own gun. 

And then there were none (BBC 2015) 

I love this twist in the story. It serves them well, both of them.

She kills him and slowly climb the stairs to her room, to her death.

End of the story.

Ten little indians (1965 by george Pollock) B/W UK

The book kind of ends here and leave you speechless, at least it’s what happened to me.

I’m not Sherlock - or Poirot given the circumstances - but I had my fair share of AC’s books by the time I read “And then there were none” and I understood  she had a thing for romance so I never really suspected Vera or Phillip to be the murderer. 

My main suspect died along the pages leaving me gobsmacked but also intrigued. I have to confess it was a tie between the doctor and the judge – since the process-alike thing when they are confronted with their crimes – but it would have been too obvious. My money was on the doctor. I was wrong I guess.

And then there were none (1945 by René Claire) B/W USA 

I wasn’t wrong though on the romance proclivity of the author. In the stage adaptation, she changed the final – the best part of the story – so Vera and Philip would end up together and alive. Of course they are innocent in this version of the story.

By now you may know I am all for the book finale. Sue me, it was amazing.

I read this book right after Murder on the Orient Express (it was a two in one illustrated  hard cover edition book) and the parallel between the two books was blatant.

Murder on the Orient Express (1974 by Sidney Lumet)

In “and then there were none” they are all killers and they get justice. In “Murder on the Orient Express” they all are killers and they get away with it.

What changed in Agatha Christie’s mind so she minister justice so randomly?

Fact is, that she doesn’t.

And then there were none (BBC 2015) 

Murder on the Orient Express (1974 by Sidney Lumet)

In the latter they are not murderers to her eyes. They are the jury, the judge and the executioner. She is serving justice again. And  - again – it is the murder of a child the worst crime of all. It is so in “And then there were none” where Vera kills Cyril, and it is so in “Murder on the Orient Express” when they kill the murderer of sweet little Daisy. 
Plus, let me tell you - it was amazing having two crime stories in which at the end of the book the murder is respectively no one and all of the suspects. 

And then there were none (BBC 2015) 

EP 16 YELLOW PRESENTS: INCOMING VALENTINE DAY MAKES SHE-DUCKS GO CRAZY

Valentine day was almost there and Chanel managed to harass kinda everyone. She couldn’t stop blathering about Théo and the wonderful gift he used to give her. Actually it was quite impossible since they lived in the same house for less than a year and February was one of the missing months of their almost year together but she didn’t really pointed that out. Christmas, Easter, birthdays it doesn’t matter, presents are presents and there is no time like now to get a present.

She was not really flirting with our duck pals, she was more likely asking them to take her to the soap dispenser for a goodnight kiss and give her a present. Yep, asking like “C’mon Yellow, it’s just for an evening, you ask me out, we have a nice dinner that you are going to arrange and then you can give me your present.” Another duck would have been shocked but our yellow pal was too smart or just too full of himself to bother. “Sure thing Chan. like I got nothing better to do that evening.”

Truth was her Majesty Elisabeth Duck Queen of England had no one. Shakey and Scott were really chivalrous but at the end of the day it was just a polite façade, she was not the one their eyes lingered on when they thought she wasn’t looking.

Shakey was in love with an ugly old sponge, she wondered what did he could ever find in her, while her Scottish friend had the hots for Centurion.

So she commanded to throw a party, some music and a little bit of dancing. She was sure all the ducks in the bathroom would have asked her to dance, her pride would have been safe a sound from nasty comments about her being alone and all that “the virgin queen” stuff that came out every time there was a party going on. Though, she had still a few problems understanding why they named a soft drink after her while her elder sister got a freaking awesome “bloody mary”.

Nobody told her it was not about alcohol, it was just too fun to spoil it.

Still his majesty wasn’t really satisfied so she decided it was a woman-choice event. One of those crappy revers stuff.

Yellow asked Violet to ask him and she simply did. Then he joined his bro Orange.

Girls liked him, Yellow was sure he had already more than one option to choose from. Orange was really angry instead . Yellow patted his shoulder (does duck have shoulders? boh)  and Orange scoffed. He asked again and in a matter of second he was floating in the water but he wasn’t in the washbasin or the tube….definitely no. He asked a third time from his unlikely  location and Orange responded by flushing the toilet.

Wanna know why?

You’ll discover it on Valentine day story: Orange and the word in reverse

Bottom line: doesn’t matter who are you dealing with, on Valentine time better watch your mouth 

EP.15: YELLOW AND THE SONG

Our little Yellow pal wasn't really busy at the moment. Christmas time was a bitch and he felt like resting. His bros and sis wondered if he was ok, it wasn't like him to be this calm. So, since once in a while the world is actually allowed to be upside down, they decided to do something about it. Trowing a party? Have a bathroom restyling? None of the option felt like it was the right one. After a very long (let me say loooooong) time, our fellow Orange just said "what about a serenade?" They all looked at him in disbelieve. So simple and so nice. They decided to sing a song to their rubber friend but there was a tiny problem still. Which one? They started arguing again and you could say it wasn't going to end, not any time soon anyway. After a while Violet, she was the smart one, stepped in the middle of the wispering crowd (they were bichering in a very low voice for they didn't want Yellow to hear them) and simply added "I think -Yellow- by Coldplay is the right song". She could have said it earlier but she was having to much fun watching them being so silly. 
Centurion sang the song a few time but Sphynx couldn't learn it for the life of his so, when they all were tried of his brays they just asked him to fake it and smile. The ancient duck pouted (if you think it was easy you should try it with a beak) and excused himself. He was angry but, really, he too understood he couldn't sing at all. 
It was late in the afternoon when our ducks parated on the bathtube and started to sing. Yellow little rubber heart melted at the view. He loved them all but, God knows he tried, seeing his beloved relative and friends like that.....he couldn't help it. 
He switched on the hairdrier and send them into the tube. After a moment of disbelieve they looked up at him. "Son of a plastic bottle...." muttered Orange spiting soap and making boubles. Shakespeare duck scoffed and stopped him, only then he looked up to the tryumphant Yellow. "if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" the sibylline quote left his beak. Yellow thought in due time revenge would have come but, right now they were ALL in the tube. All? Sphynx patted his shoulder. "Remember me dude?" Yellow close his eyes and brace di himself for impact. Sphynx pushed him and jumped. They crushed in the water, there is no other world to explain it. Sphynx smiled and started to sing (gosh he was tone-deaf). All the other ducks looked at him for a moment than joined him. Yellow shrugged and started to dance at the rhythm of the music. 

Bottom line: don't forget how to swimm if you want to sing.

EP.14: YELLOW E LA MAGIA DELLA NEVE

Yellow sapeva che normalmente nei bagni non nevica ma che inverno sarebbe stato senza un pochino di neve? Era convinto che fosse la neve a rendere il Natale magico o perlomeno sopportabile surgelarsi l’inverno. Non che una paperella di gomma potesse ghiacciarsi, loro avevano più che altro paura di potersi sciogliere.  I filosofi dibattono se l’Inferno sia fatto di ghiaccio o di fuoco, le paperelle di gomma sono convinte che sia fatto di fuoco, Yellow aveva la sua opinione. Lui riteneva che l’inferno fosse una vasca da bagno piena di paperelle di gomma identiche a lui.  Si trattavca con buone probabilità di una reminescenza del momento in cui il nostro piccolo Yellow era stato creato ma lui non lo avrebbe mai ammesso. 
Comunque sia, tutte le farneticazioni su inferno e paradiso non lo avrebbero distratto dall’idea di far nevicare nel bagno. Ma il nostro amico era astuto come una faina (o almeno era quello che pensava di se stesso) e ne combinava sempre una. Chiamò Orange, il fratello che cercava quando era sicuro che chiunque altro avrebbe disapprovato, lui no, era un ragazzo tosto anche se non intelligente come lui. 
E come i Siloni si Battlestar Galactica, Yellow aveva un piano.
Iniziava sempre con una buona idea e finiva nella vasca da bagno.
Yellow ed Orange strapparono a pezzettini una grande quantità di carta igienica e si arrampicarono sul mobiletto alto (il posto più lontano dalla vasca che Yellow potesse trovare) trascinandosi dietro qualcosa di pesante avvolto in un asciugamano. 
Violet li intravide ed emise un sospiro, sapeva che avevano qualcosa in testa. I fratellini gommosi scoprirono un phon ed Orange lo accese.  Coriandoli di carta igienica fluttuarono per il bagno. Tutti gli abitanti del bagno, papere e non papere, guardarono in alto verso di loro, verso la neve cadente. Era la cosa più spettacolare che avessero mai visto. 
Stupiti se ne stavano in silenzio. Il cuoricino di plastica di Yellow scoppiava di gioia. 
Incoraggiò Orange a cavalcare il phon in modo da poter direzionare la carta igienica.  Orange, oramai dovreste conoscerlo, senza pensarci due volte, montò sul phon.  Mandò l’aria ovunque ……era euforico e strillava come un cowboy su una mucca impazzita. 
“Cavolo, Yellow è la cosa più bella che ho mai fatto…Ye Ah!”. Nessuno gli rispose. Si guardò attorno ma suo fratello non era da nessuna parte. Dopo un pochino lo vide.  Tutto intento a dare ordini al fratello su dove direzionare l’aria, si era piazzato davanti alla bocca del phon e, dal momento che era una piccola papera di gomma, era volato via con la carta. 
Al momento, Yellow Yellow se ne stava tutto irritato nel lavandino cercando di liberarsi della carta igienica bagnata che gli si era appiccicata addosso. 

Morale della favola: l’acqua è bagnata. 

EP. 14: LET IT SNOW

Yellow knew it wasn’t supposed to snow in a bathroom but what kind of winter would have it been without a touch of snow? He was convinced it was snow who made the Christmas magic or at the very least the winter worth freezing over. 

Not that a rubber ducky could actually freeze, they were more scared by melting. Philosophers quarrel whether hell is ice or fire, rubber ducks thinks it is fire, yellow had his own belief. Hell was a bathtub full of yellow rubber ducks identical to him. 
It was probably a memory of the moment our little Yellow was created but it would never admitted it. 
But all the gibberish in the world concerning this stuff was not as important as make it snow in the bathroom. 
But our little friend was a clever clogs (or at least so he thought about himself) and he was always up to something. He called Orange, the brother he searched for when he knew everyone else would have disapproved, he was a tough guy though not as smart as himself. 
Like Battlestar Galactica’s Cylons, Yellow had a plan.
It always started with a good idea and quite often ended in the tube. 
Yellow and Orange tore up a great deal of toilet paper and climbed the cabinet (he choose a place as far away from the tube as he could) dragging a huge, heavy something wrapped in a towel. 
Violet caught sight of them and sighed, she knew they were up to something. The rubber siblings unwrapped a hair-drier from the towel and Orange switched it on. 
Leaves of toilet paper flew down in the bathroom. All the bath’s population,  ducks and no ducks, looked up towards them, towards the falling snow. It was the wondrous thing they’d ever see. 
Mesmerized they all stayed in silence. Yellow’s  little rubber heart was going to explode out of joy. 
He urged Orange to rode the drier so they could direct the toilet paper. Orange, you should know him by now, without thinking twice, popped on the drier. 
He aimed the air everywhere…….he was galvanized and screamed like a cowboy on a crazy cow.
“Gosh Yellow it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever done…Ye Ha”. Nobody answered. He looked around and his bro was nowhere to be seen. After a while he found him. 
Bent on  ordering Orange where to direct the air, he’d placed himself in front of the drier and, for he was a tiny rubber thing, he’d flew with the paper. At the present, Yellow was in the washbasin scorned trying to get rid of the soaked toilet paper stuck all over him. 

Bottom line: water is wet.

EP. 12 - YELLOW E LA RECITA DI NATALE

Yellow aveva trascorso le ultime ore a fare i casting per la recita di Natale. Si era ben presto pentito di essersi offerto. Tutte le papere si erano presentate con un idea o una trama da presentargli. Tantissime idee, una più balorda dell’altra. Violet (la sorella intelligente di Yellow) era a capo dello show. Aveva scartato praticamente tutti dicendo chiaramente agli artisti improvvisati che erano fuori di zucca a proporre quelle porcherie. Era una paperetta con le palle lei. Ad un certo punto Violet dovette allontanarsi per un impegno inderogabile e si fece sostituire da Orange. Pensava di aver fatto una mossa intelligente, non lo era stata.

Orange era più interessato alle papere che alle trame quindi, quattro graziose paperette vestite da sirena salirono sul palco ed intonarono una canzone dall’Odissea di qualche autore cieco morto secoli prima, lui le scritturò subito.  Amy, lunga chioma bionda e costumino viola, Marina, boccoli castani e costumino blu, Esmeralda, capelli rossi e costumino verde e Rose, una brunetta sfacciata con il costumino rosa, erano molto contente.

Yellow non obiettò alla scelta del fratello. Sembrava una bella trama dopo tutto. Quando Violet tornò , si arrabbiò e rimproverò duramente entrambi. Loro caddero dalle nuvole.

Non riuscirono a capire perche fosse tanto arrabbiata fino a che Shakespeare non gli raccontò l’Odissea per intero e gli fece presente che non si trattava di un musical. Adesso si ritrovavano con una sorella furiosa e quattro incantevoli papere-sirene.

Fu solo allora che Yellow ebbe un’idea geniale e – incredibilmente – tutta la crew era d’accordo con lui che si trattava di un piano fantastico.

Yellow aveva pensato che avrebbero potuto mettere in scena “La sirenetta”. Si trattava di una storia semplice ma  piena di belle canzoni e sirene (e poi lui si sarebbe scritturato per il ruolo del principe Erik).

Semplicemente geniale.

Violet richiamò tutto il cast, comprese le quattro sirene, e li fece allineare sul bordo della vasca. Spiegò che avevano scelto “La Sirenetta” e procedette con l’assegnazione dei ruoli. Il ruolo di Ariel era stato affidato a Marina per via della sua chioma fulva.

Le altre papere-sirene protestarono e si misero a bisticciare.

Yellow tentò di calmarle ma finì nel bel mezzo del parapiglia e – come sempre – sul fondo della vasca. Stavolta, comunque, non da solo. Orange lo guardò con occhi malizisi “Serve aiuto?” gli disse con tono scherzoso “Fai con calma” gli rispose Yellow, la sua voce appena udibile a causa degli schiamazzi che stavano facendo le quattro papere vestite da sirena.

Morale della favola: non dire gatto se non lo hai nel sacco.