David Farnor | On 25, Jan 2026

Agatha Christie has rarely been so in fashion as in the past 20 years, with the Queen of Crime not only inspiring the Knives Out franchise and spawning Kenneth Branagh’s Poirot films, but also being boldly adapted for TV in some surprising and stunning ways, primarily thanks to Sarah Phelps and the BBC. Of course, there’s still the cosy familiarity of a period whodunnit that’s part of the Christie charm, but we’ve been spoiled by the small screen’s ability to twist and turn that into new forms and genres. Now it’s Chris Chibnall’s turn with Netflix’s take on Agatha Christie’s Seven Dials – and, while it’s not afraid to remix the source material, it lacks the confidence and imagination of its slicker, darker cousins.

We begin, promisingly, in 1920s Spain, where Lord Caterham (Iain Glen) dies a literally gory death in a bullring. Then, somewhat disappointingly, we swap the exotic location for an old country estate, where the widowed Lady Caterham (Helena Bonham Carter) is hosting a party – and some unwelcome guests in the form of the Coote family, industrialists who have the cash Lady Caterham needs but none of the class and reputation she’s trying to cling on to. The young lady of the house, Lady Aileen “Bundle” Brent (Mia McKenna-Bruce), isn’t much interested in either – she’s more preoccupied with Gerry (Corey Mylechreest), a friend of her late brother who intends to propose to her. When Gerry winds up dead – supposedly due to suicide – she takes it upon herself to unearth the truth behind it.

What ensues is less a murder investigation and more an espionage thriller, as Bundle finds herself steeped in conspiracy, post-war secrets and parliamentary goings-on – all of which have something to do with the Seven Dials. It’s a phrase people keep saying over and over, and clocks seem to keep appearing everywhere – even in the faintly cheesy opening titles. That lack of subtlety isn’t helped by the on-the-nose dialogue, while the source material itself perhaps hamstrings the overall plot – a room full of people with clock-themed masks threatens to tip things into overly theatrical territory.

While the script isn’t the sharpest, though, the cast are a delight. Helena Bonham Carter and My Lady Jane’s Edward Bluemel are having fun as Lady Caterham and Jimmy, a friend with Home Office connections, while Alex Macqueen almost steals the show as a simpering would-be suitor from the Home Office. But it’s Mia McKenna-Bruce and Martin Freeman who are the reason to keep watching. McKenna-Bruce, who wowed in How to Have Sex, is effervescent as the forthright Bundle, and she’s well paired with Freeman’s bristling Superintendent Battle, who can’t work out whether to be annoyed or charmed by her lack of respect for authority. Together, they’re an entertaining double-act you could see running for a whole series of adventures – one wonders if that’s what Netflix is hoping for, as this outing is pitched as a playful franchise-starter. That would give a welcome opportunity to find more substance and narrative complexity beyond the superficial twists and character quirks on offer, but with a three-episode runtime that keeps things moving, this slight but entertaining mystery is smart enough not to outstay its welcome.

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