- Directed by Kenneth Branagh [adapted from the Agatha Christie novel]
- Starring
- Kenneth Branagh
- Armie Hammer
- Gal Gadot
- Emma Mackey
- Tom Bateman
- Annette Bening
- Jennifer Saunders
- Dawn French
- And many others
- Including a great deal of computer scientists
I’ve been to this one twice. I don’t know why. The first time I saw it on a huge screen in a theatre in which my chair reverberated to every shock and sound on the screen and I appeared to move all over the place. A lot of this I put down to my imagination. Still, it was an experience. It was so overwhelming, I thought, I’ve been duped here, something isn’t right. Therefore, I sought out a smaller local cinema, where the screen isn’t too big, and the sound generators have probably been in place since the middle sixties.
Now the film could stand on its own two feet. The result is surprising. It can’t.
I quite enjoyed the prequel included to explain M. Poriot’s magnificent moustachios, but, couldn’t grasp the allusion to said moustachios in the final shot [more of that later].Then the film proper commences, and we are into territory we’ve all seen before. Notably, in the Peter Ustinov version. I never accepted Ustinov as Poirot, but the actors around him fared much better than those on offer in this new version.
A fine mustache wearing a frustrated little man
Let’s face it, we all know who the villains are before it starts, we are just there to see how Mr Branagh puts it together. I think his ‘Murder on the Orient Express’ is better handled than this one. His Poirot gets very emotional at times and his Belgian accent becomes so thick one cannot understand a word he is saying. And he shouts often. We know Poirot is frustrated but, I’m sure the little man would not shout so much. Poirot was a man of great restraint.
I don’t know if it was my imagination, but were there more murders on this boat than Dame Agatha imagined? There seemed to be an endless procession of corpses leaving the Karnak whenever the boat docked.
Playing 'Another one bites the dust' every time never gets old though
Apart from Branagh, we have Armie Hammer very good as the sleazebag fiancé and husband. Someone I don’t know, but I’m told she’s famous, Gal Gadot as the wealthy wife. The excellent Emma Mackey, [a favourite of mine] as the spurned fiancé [or is she?]. Tom Bateman, excellent as the wayward son to the very excellent Annette Bening. However, Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French should not have been along for the ride. They are very bad indeed. Jennifer Saunders, who I think was supposed to be an American, has an American accent for one short speech on her first entrance end then reverts to BBC television speak thereafter. I found myself wishing for Bette Davis, Angela Lansbury, Mia Farrow, Maggie Smith , Simon Mc Corkindale et al.
So many celebrities, so few personalities
At least Mr. Branagh has his great colleague and friend, Patrick Doyle, along for his musical score. And it is a beauty, once again. Mr. Doyle cannot be faulted.
Now the look of it. When I saw it in the big cinema version, I was mesmerized by the scope and the colour of the images. When it’s reduced to a normal cinemascope size, one can see the cracks emerging at the edges. I’m told, he wanted to shoot it on location in Egypt or Morocco but couldn’t for some reason. Therefore, it is completely loaded with Computer Generated Images [I think that’s what they’re called]. On the smaller screen I found it all fake. And the boat seemed to be all out of proportion to the river. The cast at times looked like little people in huge rooms. And the final scene, where Poirot sums up, is played in a huge salon, which seems to be completely out of whack with the external dimensions of the boat.
For sale: Surprisingly large houseboat, barely any murders. Inspect now!
I sat through all the credits at the end, and they are indeed ENDless. There were so many computer technicians credited I lost count. I feel these CGI techniques are fine for, say, a tongue-in-cheek film with The Rock and Queen Victoria travelling down a river trying to emulate ‘The African Queen’, but, for me we need some realism for an Agatha Christie mystery.
Perhaps Agatha Christie should be confined to the television screen.
Now at the end, I think it says, six months later, Poirot [Branagh] returns to the night club in which the story began. It seems to be deserted now, but for one lone torch singer. Poirot sits alone at a table and as the camera approaches him, he turns to reveal his face and, behold, he is moustachio-less. What does this mean? Poirot would never remove his moustachio. Is this a dream? Or has M. Poirot’s moustachio always been stuck on? I feel there’s plenty of material here to make a new Christie novel.
Star Rating: 2/5 [Will Kenneth attempt ‘And then there were None’ next? The locales will be easier. He’ll only need a house on an island.] [Will Kenneth attempt ‘And then there were None’ next? The locales will be easier. He’ll only need a house on an island.]