It’s time to take a closer look at the two TV adaptations of They Do It With Mirrors. This is a bit of a tricky one, because the novel has distinct strengths and weaknesses. Specifically, the novel features quite strong character portraits but a questionably consistent theme. Last week, we discussed that the overall effect was an unresolved story – a mystery solved but no changes affected as a result.
As usual, the BBC and iTV have taken divergent paths on their approach to adapting the novel for television. They’ve both made a number of changes to the plot, only some of which contribute to the character portrayals or resolution – it is those I will address.
In this case, the differences in adaptation between three characters encompass the overall differences in approach. The first is Mildred: Carrie Louise’s grumpy, less-loved daughter. The second is Lewis Serrocold: Carrie Louise’s husband and the latest idealist / crank to win her heart. And the third is Miss Marple herself: the focus of so much of the novel’s characterization efforts. While not comprehensive, these characters exemplify the state of the “character ecosystem” of each adaption: the way character portrayals combine to affect our satisfaction with the story.
BBC (1991): exaggerated character studies
The BBC seems to have approached their adaptation of They Do It With Mirrors with the idea of clearly laying out protagonists and antagonists, with as little grey area as possible. They exaggerate the “bad” characters’ flaws, and emphasize the “good” characters’ strengths. At times, this causes them to deviate from the source material, inventing flaws for some characters and softening or erasing them for others. Let’s look at a few examples:
A milquetoast Mildred
Let’s start with Mildred – poor, unlucky Mildred. In the novel, Mildred is a bit of a grump. It’s understandable – she’s the less-loved daughter of wealthy parents, always given short shrift. There’s a real sense that Mildred is the unluckiest of the bunch – and so it’s a relief that Carrie Louise leans on her at the end of the novel.
But the BBC’s Mildred is no such grump – she’s in fact quite a cheerful person. While there are hints of sadness underneath the cheer, there’s not the same sense of exclusion from the household – and therefore, no real sense of catharsis when she’s included in the final explanation group. Perhaps the adapters worried that we couldn’t or wouldn’t sympathize with a grumpier version of the character? Either way, this version of Mildred is quite a shadow of her former self – and it makes it hard to care about the final outcome.
Lewis Serrocold’s predetermined fate
When it comes to Lewis Serrocold, the BBC team pulls no punches. Serrocold is clearly a creep from the start. In the very first scene, he comes off as a boring bloviator, making a “business presentation” to clearly uninterested viewers about their charity. It’s hard to understand why Carrie Louise falls for him – or why anyone places trust in their relationship to begin with.
This is another example of the BBC taking a clear perspective on the characters from the outset. This pattern repeats throughout the adaptation: Stephen is clearly bad at his job, while Wally is clearly virtuous. Edgar is clearly a bit of a dweeb. But when the writers take sides, “tipping the scales” so that we like or dislike certain characters from the outset, it kills the sense of skill from Miss Marple. Not only that, it makes the themes even less resonant – this is just a tale of one woman’s mistake, nothing larger.
Miss Marple: a snarky protagonist that’s easy to cheer for
So – I’ve got to get something off my chest. I know that Miss Marple fans love the Joan Hickson adaptations. And I get the appeal. This version of Miss Marple is openly snarky and spends a lot of time showing up the police. It can be cathartic to watch a little old lady take down a police inspector, especially one as annoying as the Inspector Slack that inhabits these adaptations. This Miss Marple feels like the character we’ve built up in our heads.
However, she is not the Miss Marple of the novels. Reading They Do It With Mirrors crystallizes the difference. Where the written Miss Marple merely thinks snarky thoughts, Hickson-Marple voices them. Where novel Miss Marple “twinkles” and smiles patiently, Hickson-Marple pokes and prods, nary a smile to be seen. And while novel-Marple typically gets along well with the police, Hickson-Marple constantly snarks at her nemesis, Inspector Slack.
The result is a Miss Marple full of fun one-liners, without the wisdom and patience that make the character great. She says things as soon as she thinks them – there’s no time for us to draw our own conclusions. This Miss Marple is made for one-off television episodes, where it’s easy to cheer on the old lady “pulling one over” on the dumb police.
But as we know, that doesn’t work well over the long term. Over the course of multiple episodes, it becomes less believable that Miss Marple has maintained the connections that keep bringing her cases. I certainly would not tell my secrets to someone who would instantly wave them in front of a police inspector’s nose. This character would honestly work great were she a professional PI – but not as kindly “Aunt Jane”.
In many ways, this exemplifies the BBC’s approach to this adaption. Gone is the subtlety, the moment of understanding when you realize just how much Miss Marple has seen. Instead, every element is telegraphed, loudly, and repeatedly. Even the thinking about the merits of philanthropy is stripped away, replaced by Slack shenanigans. You get the fun, but little of the substance.
iTV (2010): careful characters in a twisted plot
The iTV adaptation is unfaithful in plot events, but remarkably faithful when it comes to characterizations. Almost every character is recognizable from their book counterpart, and any additions or embellishments extend the core themes of the novel. The team takes care to consider how each character reflects on the protagonist, creating a much more sympathetic portrayal of Carrie Louise. And Miss Marple stays outwardly calm and collected, the perfect investigative guide – creating a “fair play” mystery that relies on suspects, not the detective, for drama.
Mopey Mildred: a symbol of Carrie Louise’s imperfections
The first note I have on the iTV Mildred is “We’re really going for grumpy Velma, huh.” This version of Mildred bears a strong resemblance to Velma from the 2002 version of Scooby-Doo. It goes beyond the haircut and the glasses – this Mildred is just as upset with the world, just as envious of the gorgeous girl in her life and her love affairs. She’s sour and puckered and miserable – the iTV team were not afraid to show her in her worst light.
And yet – it works. While she’s deeply unpleasant, the team takes care to show how much she needs attention from Carrie Louise, her mother. When she overhears her mother showering even more sympathy on Gina, you can see her heart break – and it lands all the more because she’s so cranky. Because the secret of grumpy Mildred is that she represents Carrie Louise’s failings – how she turns towards idealism at the expense of pragmatic support. And so she must be miserable, lest Carrie Louise come off as too much of an angel. The story doesn’t work the same if Mildred is a sweet martyr.
The iTV team clearly understands this, and ensures that we both dislike Mildred and feel empathy for her. Their biggest embellishment – Mildred’s crush on Stephen Restarick – clearly adds to this characterization. And when, at the end, Mildred turns Stephen down – you can’t help but smile.
Lewis Serrocold: kind to a fault
The iTV team took all their writing blandness and poured it into Lewis Serrocold. This version of the character is sweet and mild-mannered, seemingly completely dedicated to Carrie Louise. It it absolutely possible to imagine him willing to do anything to please her, which is the core element of his character. It’s also much easier to imagine Carrie Louise wanting to marry him in the first place. This is critical to the success of the story – you have to like Lewis to understand why nobody ever suspects him.
This touches on another critical element of telling this specific story. Our main protagonist, Carrie Louise, has surrounded herself in a very strange setup. Her wonderful house has become an inmate rehabilitation center, and it’s full of “spongers”. Our only way to have sympathy for her is if those spongers reflect back some goodness, something strong she should believe in. It’s no good if she comes off as a helpless old lady.
So when the iTV team chooses to have Lewis almost unerringly kind, you can understand why Carrie Louise trusts him implicitly. (It may not be a smart idea, but there’s some emotional basis.) Not only that, liking Lewis adds to your sympathy for Carrie Louise as the climax resolves itself. If Lewis is kind of an asshat, Carrie Louise becomes a bit out of touch. But if Lewis is kind and supportive, you can understand why she puts so much faith in him. And when tragedy strikes, you can feel for Carrie Louise and commiserate in her loss. The story becomes more than a mystery – now it’s a tragedy as well.
Miss Marple: a calm investigative guide
This version of Miss Marple is much closer to the original text, while still having quite the onscreen presence. Outwardly, she’s sweet and polite and the perfect listening ear. We manage to keep some of the internal snark from the novel by having her write letters to other characters.
But mainly, Miss Marple’s role is to go and ask just the right questions and let us come to our own conclusions. (And of course, be surprised when we’re wrong in the end.) This is a different model of Miss Marple, and a quite effective one. It allows the audience to “play along” and feel that it’s all fair – we’re not being misled by any writing stunts. And it allow us to appreciate Miss Marple’s wisdom in the end, as she solves the case and explains it, quickly and incisively.
It’s also more in keeping with the genre itself – Miss Marple is part of a tradition of “fair play” sleuths whose wisdom comes from the conclusions they draw, not the access they have to special information. Even when iTV introduces new weird plot twists (Were the oysters necessary?) they make sure the audience has access to the same amount of information as Miss Marple. This is absolutely personal preference – but I like mysteries to be puzzles with a satisfying story, not a story with a puzzle attached.
Crafting a coherent character ecosystem
So, what can we glean from all this? I found a couple of particular elements interesting:
- It’s important to remember that character changes impact more than just single character. Flipping Mildred from miserable to milquetoast completely changes the impact of the conclusion, as well as our understanding of Carrie Louise.
- Similarly, it’s important to consider how characterizations impact the sympathy we feel for the protagonist. It’s no good to have an extraordinarily creepy character if we don’t care how it impacts the protagonist. In a mystery story, it particularly bad for the protagonist to come off as needlessly foolish – and the characterization of her companions is particularly important for this.
I was also tempted to write “Miss Marple is better with internal snark”, but that’s honestly personal preference, so I’ll leave it off.
Still, I think this particular episode is a good reminder of the importance of the “character ecosystem”. Characters serve more than themselves in a story – their relationships reflect well (or poorly) on each other. A protagonist with unfortunate but understandable relationships may remain sympathetic. A protagonist with confoundingly terrible ones, less so. To the extent that our investment in a story relies on caring about protagonists, it’s just as important to consider how their companions reflect on them (much as in life).
This is not a novel insight – here’s a great example of a particular favorite trope channel on this topic – but I think it’s a nice illustration of why it matters. It’s certainly a trend I’ll be paying more attention to as I read in the future.
Next up in the series, we’ve got a more breakfasty mystery… (And hopefully I can keep moving on some of my reading challenges!)
Until then – stay cozy, and stay curious!
