The first time I was exposed to the mysterious world of Agatha Christie was in middle school. I got up one morning to get ready for school and in typical me fashion turned on my television almost first thing. I often would find myself attracted to the first film or television show that popped on screen—anything to entertain me as I ate my cereal and brushed my teeth. One fateful morning as my TV screen became illuminated I came to see a group of eccentric individuals having some trouble aboard a steamboat on the Egyptian Nile. This film was Death on The Nile (1978) another popular cinematic adaptation of the Queen of Crime's literary works. I was instantly engrossed, and my passion for the murder mystery genre was forevermore solidified. My mother upon discovering my newfound love for mystery, mayhem and pudgy funny Belgian man had one thing to say:
"Wait till you see the one set on a train."
I read Murder on the Orient Express before ever watching Sidney Lumet's 1974 adaptation. In the middle of reading the book, I remember running into the kitchen as my mother was prepping dinner and exclaiming; "I know who did it, I don't know why, but I know who!"
I was right as it turned out. There's no cinematic critique in this part of the review. I just thought I'd earned some bragging rights.
Many critics have been critical of the idea of remaking one of the most well-known murder mysteries of all time. What's the point if a majority of people know the conclusion? Does adding in a few snazzy twists and tricks retool the whole package into something new and exciting? Why not leave well-enough alone? As I've said before, I am a believer in remakes if done for the right reasons. Some stories deserve to be retold and updated for modern audiences so that they can be exposed to the narrative philosophies of a piece of visual art they would otherwise normally not give attention to.
When I went to the movie theater to see Kenneth Branagh's adaptation of Christie's most known novel, my expectations were limited, yet specific. I was not preoccupied with how the director/actor was going to portray Hercule Poirot, nor did I stress over the obvious alterations made within the characters and plot as presented in the film's trailers. My concerns lied mostly with the handling of the ending, not the solution to the crime as much as the consequences of it. Few critical reviews that I read touched upon how the characters react to the solution to the crime and the emotional toll it ultimately has on all those involved in the complicated case. This is such a crucial aspect to the story, in my opinion, because the ending is the very thing that strikes everyone the most about this particular mystery. Poirot is left with a moralistic dilemma at the end of this story, and in every single incarnation of it, he handles that dilemma differently. Before I dive into the climax though, I'd like to take a closer look at other elements of the film, so I'll spread out this review using Three C's; Cinematography, Cast and Conclusion.
Cinematography
The film is shot on vintage style 65mm, and this gives it an appropriately nostalgic touch in nearly every scene. While at times it does make the CGI landscapes even more apparent, the crispness of the color and the depth of field in the shots is undeniably grand. Branagh makes some questionable camera shot choices, especially upon the discovery of the corpse, done by an awkward, out of body overhead shot of the hallway that lasts far too long than it should.
I also found some exterior panning shots of the train obstructive and distracting, such as when we are first introduced to Mrs Hubbard. We can't get a proper feel for her character because she is overshadowed by the cluttered narrow train-car set around her. The use of black and white in the flashbacks during the film's climax is undoubtedly not nuanced, but it is an effective method still. That approach made me instantly think of the television detective series Monk, which always featured it's denouement sequences as a black and white flashback. The film's lush looks are suitable for this particular genre of film. Movies hardly ever look this pretty anymore, especially when they have to do with violent murders and avalanches.
CAST
A film such as this doesn't really require an all-star ensemble as a necessity, but more so as an indulgent decadence. Murder mysteries are simply more fun when you have familiar faces as suspects. Your favorite stars turned criminals and victims before your very eyes. The previous cinematic adaption was populated with the likes of Hollywood royalty such as Ingrid Bergman, Sean Connery and Lauren Bacall. The updated version features the talents of Michelle Pfeiffer, Judi Dench, Johnny Depp amongst many others. Does the new film utilize its star-studded cast as well as it's predecessor? The answer is yes, and no. Josh Gad, for example, has plenty of scenery to chew on as Hector McQueen, as Anthony Perkins did in the original. They both get to swim around in the emotional turmoil of complicated familial relationships. Gad with his father and Perkins, of course, with his mother. Judi Dench, on the other hand, is in all honesty rather wasted as Princess Dragomiroff, a thankless role that should be far more important in both film adaptations of the Christie tale. Johnny Depp is serviceable as Ratchett, though in a somewhat cartoonish way that makes you grateful that his part in the film is short and bittersweet. The ever-popular Daisy Ridely turns Mary Debenham into something of a feminist heroine. She is tender and nurturing yet unapologetically sly and resilient. Vanessa Redgrave is proud, no doubt. Kenneth Branagh's Poirot is, of course, being lauded as a triumph and he truly is. He imbues the character with a precise balance of humor and severity that allows him to function on a humanistic level, which is sometimes lacking from the character in previous incarnations. He is not just the cardboard cut-out of a talented detective, but a man in his own right, one with a past in his heart and a need for balance in his Belgium bones. A special shout - out also deserves to be given to young Lucy Boynton, who portrays Countess Andrenyi. Though she has little to do, she handles her big scene with enrapturing theatrical gusto. Her character is vulnerable yet fiery while, Sergei Polunin who portrays her temperamental ballet dancer husband comes across as humorously over the top. It is also odd that the actor is a ballet dancer as well and yet he has no scenes in which he actually does any dancing. He and Depp don't know when to rein in their performances and they at times make the film come off as insincere and hammy. Pfeiffer struggles at times as well, never convincing us of Mrs Hubbard's high society ignorance and gossipy spirit the way Bacall did so effortlessly in the 1974 version. This is a true shame too because as her character arc reaches an important point in the ending, Pfeiffer truly shines. This transformation feels forced and almost too late because of her vapid characterization throughout most of the preceding film.
Two characters have had their ethnicities changed, and one is a completely different race altogether. An Italian becomes a Cuban, and a Swede becomes Hispanic. The alteration of Arbuthnot from a white Colonel to a black doctor in the 1930s was quite a bold choice. While some critics claim these diversified casting changes add little to the story, I believed they played an important part in the overall plot. First and foremost, they are used as a motivation for Poirot to investigate the crime himself. A character points out to him that the police will likely pin the murder on a minority amongst the passengers if they don't have a credible answer for them when they arrive. Not only does this add some much-needed conflict and plausibility to Poirot decision to take on the investigation, but we as an audience are also reminded of how little we've progressed in society as minorities today are also still at high risk of being wrongly accused and imprisoned for crimes they did not commit. The interracial love story between Arbuthnot and Debenham is slightly underserved, but a welcomed progressive change nonetheless.
New elements in the film are mostly good. The problem is they don't get explored as elaborately as they could have been. The cast function decidedly well all in all, despite having little chance to interact with characters other than Poirot meaningfully. This is especially true for Dench and Pfeiffer who despite having a close secret connection between their characters, share no significant interaction with one another throughout the entire running time. In many ways, the train itself is the most important character, defined not only by its aesthetic beauty but also by it malevolent aura as it steams across a snowy tundra.
Conclusion
Much of the hype given to Murder on the Orient Express over the years is in regards to its surprising ending. This surprise is not only in regards to the discovery of the murderer's identities but also the repercussions of the development itself. What makes this story so distinct for me is its moral complexities. This is not a clean-cut tale of wrongs turned right and justice prevailing for all those harmed. There is an abundance of hurt still present at the story's end, in both the book and this remake. Justice is not as easy to come by in this particular Christie story; in fact, it is something that is deprived, stolen even from not one lone person, but twelve. I fear, however, that many have misinterpreted the significance of this narrative and why it is truly so timeless. It is not Poirot's ingenious deduction skills or the overtly complex methodologies used to execute and cover up the crime itself that makes this story important. It's the reasons for doing so in the first place. This murder was an act of love, fuelled partly by hate and thirst of revenge, yes, but enacted with a sense of duty and yearning for the precious things that had been taken from the murderers, their loved ones. Though the crime is solved, it is left for the audience to decide the morality of the choices made by all the characters involved, detective and suspects alike. It is appropriate that Poirot identifies the killers as "wounded souls", but the most glaring revelation made at the film's conclusion is that Poirot's own soul may have been tainted by his decisions in the film's final moments. Can he live with this disorder out there in the world, or has order been restored in his eyes and the meaning of the word "order" redefined?
What I ask someone after they experience Murder on The Orient Express, whichever version that may be, is a very pointed question. I believe this question sums up the entire meaning and thematic purpose of the story and how it unfolds:
"What would you do for the ones you love?"
A wife, a daughter, a sister or a friend, it doesn't matter who, what matters is the special place they hold inside you and what you would do if that part were torn out with no numbing anesthetic to quell you. When your entire world falls apart, the law is no longer your savior, and God appears mute to your tribulations, what would you do? How would you survive? What lengths are immeasurable for you to forego? Penelope Cruz's character comments near the film's end that justice is buried with the dead. If that's true, it can never be reached, and maybe that's what frustrates and upsets the audience and Poirot the most at the film's conclusion. The unreachable comfort of justice. The purification of the tarnished soul.
"There was right, there was wrong, now there is you." - Hercule Poirot
Murder on the Orient Express (2017) is a film about crimes that go unsolved, prison sentences that are not delivered and lives that become unlivable. Kenneth Branagh explores the dark, tragic depths of such eviscerated souls quite effectively in the film's climax. He doesn't make it clean and easy as does the 1974 version with smiles and champagne glasses clinking in solidarity. Nor does he make it as morose as David Suchet's BBC televised version a couple of years ago with literal tears in Poirot's eyes as he stumbles away from the train. It is a perfect balance of mystery, murder and melancholy. A recipe certainly refined by Dame Agatha Christie herself after so many successful years of writing. While some may feel this film veers into the melodramatic, again I'd inquire to them how'd they react if in a similar circumstance to that of the film's ensemble. Besides, a murder mystery is supposed to have a flair for the dramatic, not just the realistic.
I would definitely recommend Murder on the Orient Express to anyone if only to encourage provocative conversation afterwards regarding the films thematic content and to grant them the pleasure of viewing such nostalgic filmmaking at a time when Hollywood is filled with buildings exploding and fast cars racing. As for the idea of Kenneth Branagh continuing as Poirot in future cinematic adaptations of Agatha Christie's work?
I think my "little grey cells" and I would enjoy that very much.
