Murder on the Orient Express
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| 2017 film |
Let me begin by saying that this film is a remake of a 1974 version of a 1934 film, which is quite confounding in and of itself. The 1974 film was well-received at the 47th Oscars, having been nominated at the 47th Academy Awards for Best Actor (Finney), Best Supporting Actress (Bergman), Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Original Score, Best Cinematography, and Best Costume Design. Of these nominations, Ingrid Bergman was the only one who came out with an award.
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| 1974 cast |
There has been much debate over which of the two is better. New York Times Reviewer Glenn Kenny asserts, "Mr. Finney's embodiment of Poirot in the Lumet picture was a marathon of sorts, with the actor testing how many of the beloved character's irritating yet endearing quirks could be pushed to the limits of coherence."
As I have only seen the more recent film, I can only speak on its behalf. As expected, the film starts slow in a very melodramatic fashion, each soon-to-be suspect boarding the train, never-minding one another beyond chit-chat. Here, we get to know the characters and form our predictions: The gangster with nothing to lose, Mr. Rachet; the English governess, Mary Hermione Debenham; the dim-witted Colonel Arbuthnot: self-righteous and honorable; Poirot's friend, M. Bouc, who owns the Wagon Lit train service; Princess Dragomiroff, a generally despicable, ugly old lady; her yellow, toad-like face puts off Poirot.
Countess Andrenyi - The sister of Sonia Armstrong, did not murder
Ratchett. Because the Countess is closest to the Armstrong case, she attempts
to conceal her identity by dropping grease on her passport and smudging the
name label on her luggage. The Countess is quite young, dark haired and
beautiful.
Count Andrenyi - A very defensive man who tries to conceal the true
identity of his wife, Countess Andrenyi. The Count takes his wife's place in
the murder.
Murder
on the Orient Express turns into a snore-fest as the painfully predictable
plot line spirals downward into a pit of melodramatic conclusions that Poirot
finds shocking. Finally, it ends with Poirot linking all of the suspects in the conspiracy. (CUE GASP) I was appalled - not by the end - but by how long it took Poirot to come to this conclusion!
Alas, the film is not a total train wreck, but it stinks like a rotting tomato in the metamorphosis of decay. The film seems to be disgustingly infatuated with itself, Branagh comes off as arrogant as Detective Poirot, viewing the suspects as underlings. He is cold and calculating, so much so that I believed him to be the culprit. I might have even rooted for him to be the killer. Sadly, I was wrong.
Christopher Morr of The Atlantic summed it up nicely, "Murder on the Orient Express is not a bad
movie per se, merely one that feels self-indulgent and thoroughly unnecessary."
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