I've waded through about 50 episodes of Poirot now, from the sublime to the mediocre, but this episode lowers the bar to basement level. I've never seen such a preposterous collection of characters, few of which make a lick of sense. It seems that the producers decided that the story needed sexying up, so they sprinkled vulgar language throughout, and heated kisses at every turn.
Every Poirot has to have an antagonist, but Elliot Cowan's characterization of The World's Biggest Jerk is so far over the top that he turns menace into eye-rolling absurdity. And naturally, since the plot demands it, the most virginal female character just *must* "fall in love" with him, even though she recognizes his purely evil nature. "What am I, a poor, weak female to do?", she sighs, "I'm a slave to love (as of 5 minutes ago)".
And throughout, Poirot subverts his beloved character with hyper-emotional exposition (for no good reason, given his lack of connection to the characters), a hitherto unrevealed religiosity, and a penchant for using 50-cent words that he's never before used, while still forgetting the English words for "thank you" and "yes". Asinine.
I would warn anyone who feels affection for Poirot and the great body of his work before this absurd farce to avoid it at all costs.