‘Even good pudding can suffer from being over-whipped’: ‘Agatha Christie’ reviews Netflix’s The Seven Dials Mystery

Your decision to promote Lord Caterham to Lady Caterham, and simultaneously to villainy, is a neat bit of sleight-of-hand. I always thought him a little too good at doing nothing; it is satisfying to see the idle rich finally put to some practical, if homicidal, use. A mother scheming in a drawing-room is, of course, far more economical than my scattered consortium of men in clubs. More modern, too. Why distribute blame when one can hang it all on a hatpin? I do hope you gave the ever-admirable Helena Bonham Carter, a superior brand of tea to plot over. It makes all the difference.

Dr Matip for Herr Eberhard is a swap more suited for the 21st century. I might have made myself on a later date, had I been less preoccupied with the reliable nuisance of a certain Belgian’s moustache. The formula, I see, remains the same. Only the packaging and red herrings have been updated. A lesson, I suppose, in durable goods.

Seven Dials: The Seven Dials Mystery Netflix Tie-in Paperback was released on January 20, 2026. (Source: amazon.in/Generated using AI)

And your expanded Society! In my version, they were a convenient mechanism, like the loose floorboard that hides the will. You have made them a proper production, with costumes and atmosphere. They seem to be having a much better time than I ever allowed them. I rather hope they have unionised.

But your masterstroke, one must concede, is Bundle. Leaving her resolutely unmarried at the end is the adaptation’s most audacious clue. In my day, we tied these things with a matrimonial bow. You leave her with the greatest mystery of all: her own future. It is either profoundly hopeful, or you are keeping her on retainer. I should not blame you. She is, as ever, the only person in the room with any sense.

The whole affair is brisker, louder, and more personally aggrieved than I recall writing it. I must, however, observe that you have permitted the affair to breathe a little too freely. My story was a brisk weekend in the country; yours is a long weekend that threatens to spill into a full week. Three episodes, indeed! One feels the material, like a suspect under a bright light, began to repeat itself simply for want of a timely conclusion. Even a good pudding can suffer from being over-whipped.

I was also diverted to see your Sergeant Battle portrayed by Martin Freeman, an actor who is widely considered the very model of a loyal Dr. Watson. It creates a curious resonance. I always maintained that Sherlock Holmes was “the one and only”– a figure quite beyond emulation.

Do carry on. It proves the clocks are still ticking, and the guests are still, delightfully, faintly uneasy.

Indulgently yours,

A.C.

(As I See It is a space for bookish reflection, part personal essay and part love letter to the written word. Bouquets and brickbats to aishwarya.khosla@indianexpress.com)