Metacritic reviews

Tashlin transforms the mystery into a giddy parody of Alfred Hitchcock’s films: borrowing his highly inflected, riotously inventive visual styles, Tashlin creates a sort of live-action cartoon, with distorting angles yielding disorienting juxtapositions, whether from the explosive results of a dish of kidneys flambé or during balletic capers at a bowling alley.

The film’s breakneck zaniness sometimes gets into the way of the labyrinthine story, and you’ll be forgiven if you completely lose track of what’s going on (or at least why), but this is a remarkably entertaining and unusual Agatha Christie adaptation, and Randall’s take on the character is, surprisingly, one of the best.

Unfortunately, neither Mr. Randall's Poirot nor the gags, chases and red herrings offered are inventive, comical or charming enough to make this more than a routine run through of clichés and clues.

Much of the suspence of Christie's writing is lost in converting to comedy, and as a result is no more than a parody of the original, insufficiently clever to be outstanding.

Frank Tashlin directed this attempt at a stylish comedy-thriller; it goes very wrong--there's no suspense, because we have no idea what's going on, and the spoofy, slapstick embellishments are almost painfully self-conscious.

Ridiculous detective Randall stops a sadistic killer from working his way through an alphabetical victim list. Agatha Christie and her legendary detective, Poirot, get a not-at-all serious treatment in this unbelievably unfunny comic mystery.