Murder on the Orient Express

Agatha Christie’s world-renowned detective, Hercule Poirot, is given the Hollywood treatment in the remake of the 1934 classic whodunit leaving the viewer with one simple question at the end; “is it real?” And of course I am referring to Kenneth Branagh’s monolithic moustache. It just might be the finest in the history of film. The narrative that follows the super sleuth’s soup strainer? Not quite as captivating.

Poirot (Kenneth Branagh) finds himself on board the Orient Express with a collection of eclectic strangers; a governess (Daisy Ridley), a gangster (Johnny Depp), a doctor (Leslie Odom, Jr.), a professor (Willem Dafoe), a desperately single divorcee (Michelle Pfeiffer), and a handful of others. All is calm on the picturesque journey through the Carpathians until terror strikes in the middle of the night, finding one of the passengers brutally stabbed to death. Only the brilliant and eccentric Poirot can solve the case before the strangers disembark and disappear forever at their various exotic European destinations.

It’s no surprise that Branagh took on this project to star and direct. Long a classically trained Shakespearean actor, he’s been dipping his toes in other genres over the past several years, and after breaking ranks to make 2011’s “Thor,” he followed up with “Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit” in 2014 and “Cinderella” in 2015. He’s returning to his wheelhouse, and although not a spectacular effort or performance, it is a perfect fit for him to take on classic Agatha Christie. I would expect that if the film has modest box office success, we could be in store for a new cinematic franchise character (there are thirty-three novels and fifty short stories to choose from).

Nostalgic if nothing else, the film is a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night. The story is familiar and the characters are predictable and shallow. Set in the 1930’s, everyone is chic and dapper, and facial hair is all the rage. There is the buildup of a big plot twist, which is the whole tagline; “everyone is a suspect,” but it isn’t particularly cunning or satisfying in the least.
At times the film was a bit of a snooze-fest, with such a claustrophobic setting that it was difficult to stay alert and proactively follow the action; three train cars and an engine does not allow a lot of room for movement, so there just isn’t a lot of change in scenery. There is however a genuine attempt to showcase the beauty and the cold of the mountains at times, and I commend Branagh for his work in the opening scene in Jerusalem; a Rabbi, a Priest, and an Iman walk into a room. Hercule Poirot delivers the punchline in astonishing case-cracking fashion.

The screenplay was written by the feverishly busy Michael Green (“Logan,” “Alien: Covenant,” “Blade Runner: 2049”) and was likely penned in a matter of hours after consulting the original novel and updating some narrative elements. The dialogue is not as sharp as I would have liked considering the cast. There was genuine opportunity for Johnny Depp to play a character in a way he’s never done before, but the potential was squandered terribly. Branagh stood out as the only actor who didn’t look like he was playing a role on stage, and that was a bit of a shame.

“Murder on the Orient Express” isn’t a terrible film, but it is remarkably mediocre. It may be even more disappointing if you are an Agatha Christie fan, and already know the twist at the end. There will however, always be something fun about a murder mystery on a train, and you can do worse than Istanbul to Budapest in the 1930’s. 6/10.