adaptation of a book. nothing too special.

Campy bitchfest with wall-to-wall Cole Porter, decent mise-en-scene, scenery-chewing Ustinov, Rigg, and Smith; and best of all, a shiftily shy Jane Birkin . . .

A decent Poirot mystery, but it's nothing to get real excited about, either. The culprit is obvious, although there are a few neat kinks to the method. Peter Ustinov is excellent as usual, getting the film through its lulls.