Not only was this NOT originally a Miss Marple novel, it's populated with the most unsympathetic bunch of characters in the history of miscasting. There are scarcely any characters here that we can bring ourselves to care one whit about, and the only ones that elicit any sympathy are soon eliminated or defiled, in the new tradition of the current Christie "adaptors." There were some inspired bits of casting: Jane Seymour as the ill-fated, hard-as-nails matriarch; Alison Steadman as Kirsten, the faithful maid (Yes, Shirley Valentine's gal-pal is now playing a middle-aged Swedish maid!), and pop star Lisa Stansfield as Mary, the ONLY sympathetic offspring. She alone gives her role any gravitas at all; the other characters (particularly the female offspring) have clearly trained for their roles by watching crappy American reality TV shows. I particularly disliked Hester, a whiny daddy's girl who's revealed to have had a fling with sister Mary's husband--and still manages to treat HIM like the bad guy, as if it didn't take TWO to dance that tango. Father Leo is a fumbly, mumbly, mamby-pamby idiot with no spine who can't even bring himself to stand by his fiancé and show faith when doubt is cast on her. (Whoops, that was a spoiler. Oh well, there ain't much to spoil.) All in all, only Steadman and Stansfield (and, initially, Seymour) are worth watching. The rest fail miserably, and unfortunately, cause the story to collapse. Don't bother with this--read the book instead.