The Mirror Crack'd

Between Lansbury’s dry run as Jessica Fletcher, the riotous juxtaposition of movie legends and a quaint village in England, and Hudson and Taylor’s long love story reaching its poignant conclusion, The Mirror Crack’d is essential viewing for those with even a passing interest in Hollywood history.

An adaptation of an Agatha Christie Miss Marple mystery, with Angela Lansbury as the sweet little old sleuth, it has the vitality of a vicar, yet it’s enormously campy fun.

Not as good as other Christie adaptations such as MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS or DEATH ON THE NILE, but still fun.

That The Mirror Crack'd never builds up much momentum has less to do with Guy Hamilton's direction and the performances than with the screenplay by Jonathan Hales and Barry Sandler, which promises more sophistication than it ever delivers.

Though it's obvious after five minutes that this is a complete no-no, the cinema equivalent of a bellyflop, it exercises a perverse fascination.

For all her prolificacy, Agatha Christie relied too often on one particular plot twist, and as soon as you recognize her old favorite here, the film loses all interest—it has nothing going for it apart from the mystery, which, of course, is no way to make a mystery movie.

It becomes increasingly hard to care as pace, reality, and even believable fantasy are buried under a wreath of ye olde boredom. As always though, Elizabeth Taylor brings a little bit of class to her scenes.