‘Agatha Christie: The Seven Dials’ Review: A Cozy Mystery Turned Serial Thriller (Netflix)

The reasons why mysteries based on—or inspired by—the work of Agatha Christie have come back into fashion are not entirely clear. One possibility is simply cyclical: after being out of favor for a long time, they were bound to return, updated for the tastes of a new generation of viewers. Another explanation is more pragmatic, and has to do with the idea that this kind of whodunit—stories built around discovering who the killer (or killers) is—works particularly well in serialized form. They create an almost compulsive need to keep watching its episodes to reach the solution. And then there is the simplest explanation of all: coincidence. Kenneth Branagh decided to revive Christie’s classics, it worked, and an entire subgenre was reborn.

Some argue that the logic behind Christie’s investigators mirrors the mindset of today’s online sleuths: social media “bloodhounds” who obsessively follow criminal cases, turning every true crime story into a streaming hit. In truth, no one really knows why these stories have become so popular again. What is clear is that, from Branagh’s Murder on the Orient Express to Rian Johnson’s Knives Out franchise, they have kept piling up, eventually forming a kind of mini-industry. Enter British writer Chris Chibnall (Broadchurch), who revisits a Christie novel that is neither among her best known nor features Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple at the center of the investigation.

The Seven Dials Mystery was published in 1929 and was not particularly well received at the time. A sequel to The Secret of Chimneys (1925), it stars Lady Eileen Brent—nicknamed “Bundle”—who functions both as the story’s protagonist and its amateur investigator. Played by Mia McKenna-Bruce, Bundle is a young woman from the British aristocracy who attends a party at the luxurious Chimneys estate in 1925, a gathering full of high-society figures quietly conducting business. The next morning, the guests discover that Gerry Wade—one of Bundle’s suitors—has died in his bed. Around him, seven alarm clocks are ringing, placed there to wake him up, something that obviously did not happen. In fact, there were eight clocks. One is missing.

Was it suicide, an accidental overdose of sleeping pills, or murder? All signs point to the latter, and a shaken Bundle begins investigating the people who spent the night at the house. Among them are officials connected to the Foreign Office (George Lomax, Ronny Devereux and Bill Eversleigh), wealthy socialites Sir Oswald and Lady Coote, the ambitious young Jimmy Thesiger (Edward Bluemel), servants and butlers—and, in a change from the novel, Bundle’s mother (Helena Bonham Carter), replacing her father, who in this version is already dead, as is her brother. As she digs deeper, Bundle discovers that she is not the only one asking questions: the elusive Superintendent Battle (Martin Freeman) is conducting his own investigation on behalf of Scotland Yard.

When a second death occurs—this time by gunshot—it becomes clear that the situation is far more serious than initially thought. What remains obscure are the motives behind the crimes, aside from the cryptic last words of one of the victims, who refers to something called “the Seven Dials.” What does that mean? A neighborhood? A nightclub? Or something even more mysterious? As hinted at in the opening of each episode, strange events took place in Spain in 1920—specifically in the Andalusian city of Ronda, inside its spectacular bullring—that will, sooner or later, connect to the central mystery. Untangling that connection becomes the task of two parallel “detectives” working toward the same truth.

Agatha Christie: The Seven Dials alters several elements from the novel, starting with specific plot points but, more importantly, by trying to move away from Christie’s traditional narrative devices—especially the famous drawing-room resolutions with all suspects present. While traces of that structure remain, the series reimagines it as an urban chase, complete with cars and trains, aiming to inject more action and tension into a story that, beyond identifying the culprit and their motives, does not aspire to much more. There is a faint critique of Britain’s role in certain international political affairs, but it remains largely superficial. What is clear, however, is that the story is designed with potential sequels in mind. The fact that Christie never wrote another novel centered on Bundle feels almost irrelevant.

Although divided into three episodes of just over 50 minutes each, Agatha Christie: Seven Dials is structured like a feature film and could easily have been a two-and-a-half-hour movie. But contemporary viewing habits favor series, which likely explains the decision to present it this way, complete with cliffhangers and narrative hooks. Fundamentally, though, nothing essential changes. Whether seen as a series or a film, it is a pleasant piece of entertainment, as light as a classic mystery novel and carrying roughly the same lack of lasting weight. And perhaps that—along with the beautiful landscapes, lavish mansions and period costumes—is exactly what many viewers are looking for in a weekend at-home watch.