Murder on the Orient Express
Dir: Kenneth Branagh
2017
**
I’m not sure I know anyone who doesn’t love a bit of Poirot. Agatha Christie is one of the most loved writers of all time, along with Mrs. Marple, the investigations of Hercule Poirot are probably the most famous of all fictional crime dramas. There have been many adaptations over the years, indeed, Kenneth Branagh is the fifteenth actor to play the little Belgian detective and Christie’s 1934 novel Murder of the Orient Express had been adapted three times previous to his 2017 film. Everyone has their favorite and like many I favour the David Suchet years. Albert Finney was good and I did like Peter Ustinov’s portrayal but for me Suchet and his brilliant adaptions are the greatest murder mysteries ever filmed. However, I was ready to push that to one side and watch Branagh’s adaptation with open enthusiasm. Unlike many critics, I actually liked Poirot’s new mustache and I thought the set pieces were perfect. Unfortunately that is about as far as my enthusiasm went. Kenneth Branagh’s portrayal of Hercule is strange and fit as well as a shrunken suit. The ensemble cast was impressive but none of the performances were. It was all about the big name stars but without any of the quality they are known for. Each actor had about fifty lines each, the rest of the time they just sit there, an easy day at the office I’m sure. The story is well known so I had no problem with them changing certain aspects but none of the changes felt right. Worst of all there was zero suspense, no intrigue and no sense of concern. For the first time ever when watching an Agatha Christie adaptation I couldn’t have cared less who the murderer was. The red herrings were transparent, the clues were forced and tricks were cheap. The direction was all over the place, with beautiful big shots following cheesy Hollywood actor reveals and uncomfortable birds eye view compositions. On a technical level, the sound is some of the worst I've ever witnessed, with the sound quality so poor that I had to rewind the DVD several times to work out what each actor was saying - with some lines of dialogue remaining a complete mystery. The action scenes were unnecessary and went that bit further to underline the dire lack of great dialogue and mystery. There is nothing classy about the film, it has absolutely no depth and is nickel-plated when it should have been golden. Poirot’s obsessive compulsiveness is really forced, to the point where he’s barely recognisable. There is talk of a sequel and at the end of the film and following the anti-climactic conclusion, Poirot is asked to leave the train and assist in a murder investigation taking place in Egypt's Nile. Death in the Nile. Poirot was on the boat during that story, so I dread to think how that is going to pan out. Kenneth Branagh’s Murder of the Orient Express is all looks and no substance, Willem Dafoe and Derek Jacobi come away unscathed but their roles are short and sweet, everyone else is forgettable except for maybe Johnny Depp and Michelle Pfeiffer who have both seen better days. Judi Dench, as much as I love her, just sits there. Olivia Coleman, one of England’s great contemporary actors is given nothing to do, she has five lines, in German, and is told to look sad. The film is the total opposite of everything that is great about the classic novel and only makes me wish David Suchet would return to the role. Suchet has already filmed all the stories but I’d rather see him remake them all over again than watch this rubbish again.