‘Gilmore Girls’ Fall Not Your Thing? Try Agatha Christie Autumn

Fall is the time of year when we seek out comfort in all things. We trade grilled meats for slow-simmering soups, refreshing white wines and cold beers for hearty reds and warming tipples, and lightweight quilts for weighted blankets and flannel sheets. With holidays and all of the family gatherings they bring on the horizon, nostalgia hangs heavy in the atmosphere, urging us to seek out culture that reminds us of our youth or of happier times. For some, that’s shows like Gilmore Girls and movies like Practical Magic or The Holiday. For me, it’s always been Agatha Christie.

I was raised by a librarian who is still the most avid reader I’ve ever met. Every night when I was growing up she read me bedtime stories, and if she stopped and tried to leave before I’d fallen asleep, I’d throw a fit. (Between that and my dad’s snoring, the poor woman probably didn’t sleep for a good ten years.) I credit this as the reason I have to fall asleep to noise now, be it the television, an audiobook, music—anything.

She’s also a mystery lover. Once I was old enough to read myself to sleep, our shared hobby was watching PBS’s Masterpiece Mystery together. My favorites were Agatha Christie’s two greatest detectives: Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. There’s something about these stories that are deeply autumnal to me, even when they’re set on tropical holidays, as they so often are (Poirot loves a vacation). I think they make me feel like a child again, wrapped up under a blanket on the couch next to my mom, eating the popcorn my dad made for us, with extra melted butter.

There’s also escapism to be found in the situations so far removed from my own reality, both then and now, but still taking place in a world I recognize. The trans-Atlantic British accents, the trappings of old wealth, the war-time, devil-may-care angst that pervades every plot. Poirot is either in London or staying in some grand estate owned by his friend’s cousin twice removed, or he’s in Egypt or on a train running through Asia. Miss Marple is in her cottage in the Cotswolds or having tea with the Vicar down the road or visiting her niece. They say things like “Chin up, old boy,” and “Will you be coming down for breakfast?”

Poirot and Marple are the perfect guides, with their wit and warmth and constant appreciation for their fellow man. There’s also something about each of them being slightly outside of society that makes them especially relatable protagonists because they can stand in for any viewer. Poirot is a refugee with a funny accent and a very particular sense of style. Marple is an unassuming spinster covered in layers of knits and lace. Both are unmarried and friends to all, which allows them to move through the world uninhibited. Neither is taken seriously by most of the strangers they meet. Both of them are utterly trustworthy. I, for one, have had enough of unlikable, unknowable main characters, at least for a little while. This time of year, I just want someone to tell me a story.

The best episodes of Agatha Christie’s Poirot, which ran from 1989-2013 starring the incomparable David Suchet as the titular Belgian detective, are when Poirot is a guest on some old English estate or traveling somewhere far away. Season three, episode one, “The Mysterious Affair at Styles,” which is based on the novel of the same name that first introduced the character of Poirot and his faithful friend Captain Hastings, is one of the former. It has everything: generational family wealth, post-WWI aesthetics, rolling country hills, creaky old mansions, and poisoning. I also love season 10, episode two, “Cards On The Table,” featuring Zoë Wanamaker as Ariadne Oliver, the sharp-witted mystery novelist who comes around every once in a while to get inspiration for her next book.

For travel episodes, there’s of course, “Murder On The Orient Express,” season 12, episode three, and season nine, episode three, “Death On The Nile,” but my favorite is season 11, episode four, “Appointment With Death,” in which Poirot is holidaying on an archeological dig in Jerusalem, where years of pent-up passion and forbidden love lead to the complicated murder plot of a hateful American woman. So, a no-brainer.

Agatha Christie’s Marple ran from 2004-2014, and Miss Marple was portrayed by two actresses, Geraldine McEwan for seasons one - three and Julia McKenzie for seasons four - six. I prefer Geraldine McEwan for her signature twinkle of the eye, and my favorite episodes are the ones where she has a cheeky, younger-woman assistant she can banter with. Season one, episode one, which bears the same title as the series but is based on the novel The Body in the Library, is the perfect example. Marple helps her friend and neighbor Dolly Bantry, played by the indomitable Joanna Lumley, when Dolly finds the dead body of a stranger in her library. If you’re into funny women galavanting about the English countryside and getting into trouble, you’ll love it.

The thing that other adaptations of Marple and Poirot miss (I’m looking at you, Kenneth Branagh) is that it’s not just the nostalgia and the irreverent British humor that keeps people coming back to Christie, it’s the melancholy, too. It’s that happy and sad at the same time mood that makes her mysteries perfect for fall, when it gets dark at 4:00 pm, and you have to be nice to your curmudgeonly uncle at Thanksgiving dinner. We seek out comfort in the autumn because we’re preparing for the winter, which in many parts of the world is bleak. Mysteries are satisfying during this time because they have a clear beginning, middle, and end. A problem is found and usually solved by the end of the episode, and the bad guy almost always gets their due. I think we all need that feeling of gratification this autumn more than ever, when it feels like the bad guys are winning and there are too many problems for anyone to solve.

Both shows can be streamed on BritBox or Amazon Prime, but I bet your local library has old DVD copies, too.