“I was probably 11 or 12 and I’ve never stopped. Johnson tells me he discovered Christie on the bookshelf at his grandparents’ house. Now she has become cool, which I would never have predicted when I used to read her in secret.” “While I was writing the biography, I can remember going on to Radio 5 and being absolutely ridiculed by a couple of crime writers, naming no names, for writing about this quaint old dear. Yes, says the Christie biographer Laura Thompson, who believes attitudes have been shifting for a few years. Is that traditional view of Chistie dying a death? Yet in 2018 he spent his downtime between Star Wars episodes writing and directing his love letter to Christie, a novelist hitherto considered to be the purveyor of hot-water-bottle-cosy murder mysteries. Hollywood is presumably rushing to tie his shoelaces after he directed the edgy cool indies Brick and Looper then took on George Lucas’s franchise.
Johnson is a man with clout and credibility. Was Thrombey killed by a member of his own family? A loathsome bunch any one of them could be the killer. “I suspect foul play,” he says with a hokey deep-fried southern drawl. The police believe the case is an open-and-shut suicide Blanc thinks otherwise. Knives Out stars Daniel Craig as a hot Poirot, the world-famous Louisiana private detective Benoit Blanc, hired to investigate the death of bestselling crime writer Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer). It’s the first line of Knives Out, the outrageously fun homage to the queen of crime from Rian Johnson, the director of Star Wars: The Last Jedi.
It was unlike Agatha Christie to open a novel with a swearword. A housekeeper finds the body of her multimillionaire boss in the study, his throat slit, a knife having dripped blood all over the white sheepskin rug.
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