In my read through of Sleeping Murder, I noted that my initial impression of this story was not a great one. I also noted my surprise at this fact on re-read, as Sleeping Murder is, in so many ways, Peak Marple. But, having watched through the adaptations, I think I can confidently blame it on them. The BBC’s version of Sleeping Murder is melodramatic; iTV’s is just a different (and bad) story altogether.

I have now watched every single Miss Marple adaptation from the BBC and iTV’s novel adaptations. There are consistent patterns in what makes a good one. And at last, I think I can establish the recipe for failing to adapt a Miss Marple novel.

Step 1: Downgrade the victims

It starts with the victims. Miss Marple is an amateur detective, and often gets involved with cases for personal reasons. As such, the quality of the victims matters more than in a usual case. Miss Marple’s choice to intercede on each person’s behalf reflects on her character. Done well, we learn more about Miss Marple’s values; done poorly, we grow impatient with her support.

So take Sleeping Murder, which features Gwenda as the main object of Marple support. In the novel, we get to spend time with Gwenda as she sets up Hillside. We understand that these mysterious occurrences take place over weeks; we watch her have perfectly pleasant interactions with others that grow our sympathy for her. Christie even includes moments of embarrassment, which evinced at least my sympathy as a reader – it’s much easier to like someone who’s put her foot in it and feels awkward about it. In short, Novel Gwenda seems – sensible, reasonable – a little foolish in love but not foolish in other things.

Not so for the adaptation versions. The BBC has Gwenda erupt in histrionics, in front of both both Miss Marple and Giles. She comes across as a lot more flustered, with a lot less sensibility in between to “pad” the moments of fright. It’s a bit hard to feel sympathy for her – she’s clearly frightened, but unlike the sympathetic narration of the novel, it’s hard to feel like we’re on Gwenda’s side.

iTV takes it a lot farther, completely changing Gwenda’s personality. While she’s still house-hunting, it’s for an upcoming marriage – and this version of Gwenda has grand expectations. Giles, on the other hand, gets replaced with a company employee, sent to support Gwenda in her house-hunt. His patient reaction to all of Gwenda’s whims highlights how flighty she is, without really giving us sympathy for her plight. It’s easier to feel supportive when Gwenda seems loved by a sensible partner, on whose judgement we can rely. It’s much harder when he’s stuck with her as ac condition of employment.

These Gwendas are much sillier, and it makes it harder to want them to succeed. Miss Marple’s efforts, then, reflect not necessarily her kindness. Instead, she’s more naturally curious, a little interfering. And while Miss Marple did finagle her way to DIllmouth in the novel, it seemed clear it was out of concern – a message that does not come through in either adaptation.

Step 2: Tamper with timelines

This is in large part because the adapters have seen fit to substantially adjust timelines, or otherwise cut points that feel like filler. The time spent with Gwenda, at the beginning of the novel is the first cut, and it impacts our understanding of the character. Giving Gwenda a partner and observer from Day 1 makes it harder to understand why he’s so frantic and afraid – easier when she’s in a big drafty house by herself.

Both adaptations also cut the scenes where Miss Marple returns home and finagles her way to Dillmouth. And while these may not seem important, I think they set up Miss Marple’s character, her MO. In the novel, Miss Marple is concerned enough about Gwenda that she wants to find a way to help her. But she also wants a socially acceptable excuse to do so, and she persuades Dr. Haydock to “prescribe” her a trip to the village. Not only that – she uses her connections with the Bantrys to find a place to stay, and from where she can investigate.

It may seem small, but these scenes establish Miss Marple’s choice in the investigation – and they set up her investigative approach. This is someone deliberate, methodical, and very aware of social norms. She’s an expert investigator and a canny social engineer. (I like to imagine that, had she been born in the 60s, she’d be some kind of phreaker.) She’s not lucking into information – she’s seeking it out.

Eliminating those scenes subtly changes Miss Marple’s character. She goes from an actor with Agency to someone with a little more luck. In the iTV version, she’s called to the scene to help – rather than showing up of her own accord. It’s a great reminder of how much a simple cut, made for “efficiency”, can have a larger than expected impact.

If you’re daring: Mess with the plot

Of course, this all ignores the elephant in the room – iTV’s huge plot changes. Agatha Christie may be the Queen of Crime, but surely these writers can write something more interesting, something with more flair. Switching up some characters – and adding new ones? No big deal. We can absolutely just jam a new crime in – that definitely won’t impact the themes or the messaging. What if we created a whole new theater troupe – wouldn’t that make things more interesting?

Spoiler alert: they do not. These are changes on par with Zack Snyder’s adaptations of Superman, the kind that make you wonder whether the adapter even liked the original material. Miss Marple deals in subtlety, and there’s nothing subtle about iTV’s version of the story. (Note that BBC has also done this from time to time, most egregiously by jamming Inspector Slack where he had no role to begin with. It’s a universal mistake, though iTV takes it to new heights.)

What makes an adaptation work?

I’ve expended almost 1000 words on how not to adapt a Miss Marple novel. But what makes a good adaptation stick out?

For me, it comes down to two things: the themes, and how the characters support them. Miss Marple stories generally focus on personal crimes and stories; she solves mysteries that could happen anywhere, to anyone. She understands the world via analogy, and she has an eye for small human details. Her best stories are those where she marries the two – uses a small detail to intuit something about a victim or crime that others may have missed, and an analogy to extrapolate a solution. Jamming big, showy scenes or fights with the police or near-death experiences simply distracts from Miss Marple’s true genius.

We’ve reached the end of this series at long last. It’s been over a year, and though I’ve seen it coming for a while, I still feel verklempt. Still, this opens me up for a new deep-dive in 2024 – what should I read next?

Until next time – stay cozy, and stay curious!