A prominent banker called Matthew Davenheim (Kenneth Colley) walked out of his house one evening and has not been seen or heard of since. His wife Charlotte (Mel Martin) says that he was expecting an arch business rival called Gerald Lowen (Tony Mathews) to arrive for a meeting and he had walked to the station to meet him. But, when Lowen finally appeared at their house he swore that he had not passed Davenheim in the lane. After waiting for several hours for him to arrive, Lowen finally became inpatient and left. Charlotte called in the police led by Chief Inspector Japp (Philip Jackson) of the Yard and they found Davenheim's safe forced open and the contents, including money and some priceless jewellery, gone. After a nearby lake was dredged, a suit of clothes was found by the police and Charlotte identifies them as those worn by her husband at the time of his disappearance, which forces Japp to concede that he might be dead - in fact, murdered. Inevitably suspicion falls upon Gerald Lowen who is further implicated by the appearance on the scene of a tramp and petty thief called Billy Kellett. Lowen races motorcars and when Japp and his team went to the racetrack to question him, Kellett appeared and tried to make off with the chief inspector's wallet, but was caught red handed. He is searched and is found to be in possession of Davenheim's signet ring. When Japp asks him how he came by it, Kellett says that he had been resting by the lake and that a person matching the description of Lowen had tossed it over a hedge. Kellett later identifies Lowen as the man at an ID parade and he is duly arrested on suspicion of murder. Now, Japp had bet his old friend Hercule Poirot (David Suchet) five pounds that he could not solve the mystery without leaving his flat, and Poirot, who has sent Captain Hastings (Hugh Fraser) out to question all the relevant people and to conduct a search of the Davenheim house, is about to blow Japp's case out of the water. Poirot needs the answers to the following questions before he can solve the case. Why did Davenheim on the night of his disappearance go into his study and play Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture at full blast on his gramophone? Why did a man who always wore a beard keep a shaving razor in his bathroom cabinet and why did Davenheim sleep in a separate bedroom from his wife following his recent trip to South Africa?
The Disappearance Of Mr Davenheim is a first rate example of this wonderful series at its peak. It is certainly unmissable viewing for fans of first class period detective drama. It has an ingenious plot, which leads to a very satisfying denouement that takes us completely by surprise thanks to David Renwick's subtle dramatization. His screenplay allows for some cracking chemistry between Poirot and Chief Inspector Japp like when the latter takes out a wager with the detective challenging him to solve the case without leaving his luxurious art deco pad in London. Of course, Poirot rises to the challenge and succeeds. This scenario allows David Suchet the golden opportunity to push his considerable acting talents to the limit in bringing out his character's eccentricities, nuances and intelligence, which he does with considerable relish. There are moments of delightful comedy too between Suchet's Poirot and Hugh Fraser's Captain Hastings too like when the former reluctantly agrees to adopt a parrot for a neighbour who has gone away. "Do not fraternise with that creature, I am still training him", says Poirot and Hastings thinks that he is telling him not to mess with the parrot. But, Poirot replies "I was talking to the parrot."
In addition to the fine performances from David Suchet, Hugh Fraser, Philip Jackson and Pauline Moran as Poirot's secretary Miss Lemon, Kenneth Colley who is perfectly cast as the villainous banker Matthew Davenheim deserves praise as does everyone else in the cast - even down to the most minor of roles. Andrew Grieve's direction finely balances the humour with absorbing detective drama; while Ivan Strasberg's lighting and Carlotta Barrow's set decoration combine to create a rich period flavour (the 1930's) that adds to the overall sense of the mysteriousness.
The Disappearance Of Mr Davenheim is a first rate example of this wonderful series at its peak. It is certainly unmissable viewing for fans of first class period detective drama. It has an ingenious plot, which leads to a very satisfying denouement that takes us completely by surprise thanks to David Renwick's subtle dramatization. His screenplay allows for some cracking chemistry between Poirot and Chief Inspector Japp like when the latter takes out a wager with the detective challenging him to solve the case without leaving his luxurious art deco pad in London. Of course, Poirot rises to the challenge and succeeds. This scenario allows David Suchet the golden opportunity to push his considerable acting talents to the limit in bringing out his character's eccentricities, nuances and intelligence, which he does with considerable relish. There are moments of delightful comedy too between Suchet's Poirot and Hugh Fraser's Captain Hastings too like when the former reluctantly agrees to adopt a parrot for a neighbour who has gone away. "Do not fraternise with that creature, I am still training him", says Poirot and Hastings thinks that he is telling him not to mess with the parrot. But, Poirot replies "I was talking to the parrot."
In addition to the fine performances from David Suchet, Hugh Fraser, Philip Jackson and Pauline Moran as Poirot's secretary Miss Lemon, Kenneth Colley who is perfectly cast as the villainous banker Matthew Davenheim deserves praise as does everyone else in the cast - even down to the most minor of roles. Andrew Grieve's direction finely balances the humour with absorbing detective drama; while Ivan Strasberg's lighting and Carlotta Barrow's set decoration combine to create a rich period flavour (the 1930's) that adds to the overall sense of the mysteriousness.