I was a little surprised, though not unpleasantly, to see that 2017’s Murder on the Orient Express managed to get a sequel in the form of another one of Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot novels. I liked, but would not say I loved, director and star Kenneth Branagh’s take on the Belgian detective with the elaborate mustache, but it did make for a fun murder mystery. The one downside was I actually went out to read Christie’s original novel before seeing the movie, and, let’s face it, the resolution to who murdered the victim in Orient Express is actually somewhat famous as murder mystery endings go.
Such would not be the case for Death on the Nile as Branagh’s Poirot returns with a less ridiculous mustache.
After an opening scene, flashing back to the first World War to show why Poirot grew that giant mustache in the first place, the movie cuts to 1937 as Poirot visits a night club to hear a performance from American blues singer Salome Otterbourne (Sophie Okonedo). While there, he observes young couple Simon Doyle (Armie Hammer) and Jackie de Bellefort (Emma Mackey), but then in comes the wealthy heiress Linnet Ridgeway (Gal Gadot). Fast forward a few months to find Poirot in Egypt on a vacation when he encounters his friend Bouc (Tom Bateman, returning from the previous movie though I didn’t realize that until I looked it up). Bouc and his generally disapproving mother Euphemia (Annette Benning) are both attending a wedding reception for Linnet and Simon, friends to Bouc and his mother. And somehow, Jackie keeps showing up wherever the happy couple find themselves.
Poirot, asked to come along to try and dissuade Jackie from doing anything rash, soon joins the couple and a group of friends on a Nile cruise. As such, when someone turns up dead, Poirot has to swing into action and find the killer before someone else dies. Who could it be? Linnet’s overworked secretary (Rose Leslie)? He ex-fiance (Russell Brand), a titled lord turned doctor? Her communist godmother or the godmother’s nurse (Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French, formerly known as the comedy team French and Saunders)? Linnet’s shifty cousin the family lawyer (Ali Fazal)? Salome or her niece/manager Rosalie (Letitia Wright)? All that seems clear is the most likely suspect was incapacitated by events, and Poirot knows he may need to figure out who did it and why before the ship returns to dock.
By the by, I am not mentioning who the victim is because the movie takes its old sweet time just getting to the murder. That’s not a bad thing, but it is done to give the audience a chance to know the victim a bit better than might otherwise be the case. If anything, Branagh’s pacing is at times a little odd. There will be shots, for no reason, things like snakes or crocodiles feeding on various prey, and the mustache origin story doesn’t quite pay off for quite a while. And that’s not counting just odd stuff like Linnet playing Cleopatra. These are minor annoyances more than anything else, but they are a part of Branagh’s movie all the same.
But, in the grand scheme of things, I think I may have enjoyed this one more than the previous movie. Branagh as a director knows how to get good performances out of actors, and everyone is hitting the right marks. Honestly, I didn’t even recognize Russell Brand until the closing credits ran and I saw his name. Factor in as well some good, old fashioned Hollywood period movie razzle dazzle and there’s a lot to like just looking at this movie. But ultimately for me, it came down to Branagh’s Poirot. Poirot, from what I have seen of him in the past, is usually depicted as a vain but brilliant man, a very Sherlock Holmes-style detective. I’ve seen a few Poirots and he’s usually just the smart, fussy little man who can read people like a book. Branagh actually put some nuance into Poirot this go around, showing a lonely man with a lot of regret. There’s a theme running through the movie about romantic love, and Poirot is not some emotionless shell of a man. When Poirot starts to let his guard down, it shows, and it works. I don’t know that I needed to know why Poirot has that mustache, but I did find it touching when the man comes as close as he is capable of to say he misses having no close connections in his life.
Grade: B
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