Death on the Nile
The champagne is glistening, the wood decks are shimmering, and the white linens are crisply ironed. The dazzling ensemble of “Death on the Nile” is to the nines but has no where to go.
Kenneth Branagh’s version of Agatha Christie’s murder mystery, the sequel to his 2017 “Murder on the Orient Express,” has the filmmaker both behind and in front of the cameras as that of the famed investigator Hercule Poirot. And, although it’s evident he’s having a great time as the elaborately moustachioed supersleuth, the voyage isn’t nearly as escapism-inducing for us.
Both the visual effects and the performances have a jarring distance. Individual scenes from guest stars only multiple times bring the film to life.
While his A-list actors, Armie Hammer and Gal Gadot, are both stunning, they’re curiously stiff and have no romantic connection with each other. (Hammer has other issues off-screen, which we’ll discuss shortly.) “Orient Express” writer Michael Green returns to adapt the script, and he’s made some changes that add some welcome diversity; among the ensemble cast, Sophie Okonedo and Letitia Wright stand out.
However, it takes a long time for the proceedings to begin and the suspense to build. The flashback at the start is Branagh and Green’s cleverest and most intriguing move: a beautiful black-and-white image of the young Poirot in the trenches of World War I.where he exhibits the ingenuity and razor-sharp wit that will become his hallmarks A genuinely aged Branagh also enables us to see the genesis story of Poirot’s characteristic moustache, which sets the tone for the picture with astonishment and grief.
I would have like to see the whole of the film since it had texture and vigour. Instead, we’re treated to “Death on the Nile.”
Hopping ahead to 1937 London, we find the established and adored Poirot walking into a crowded and jumping blues club where Okonedo’s Salome Otterbourne is performing on stage. Rosalie Otterbourne, Wright’s niece, is also her tough-as-nails manager.
But there’s also a performance on the floor for Poirot to enjoy: the gorgeous Simon Doyle (Hammer) and his effervescent fiancée,Jacqueline de Bellefort (Emma Mackey) is doing an erotic, acrobatic dance.
Seeing Hammer presented in such an overtly physical and sexual manner makes it hard to ignore the charges of assault and abuse levelled against the actor by multiple women. (He has disputed them, claiming that whatever happened in these encounters was voluntary.) Still, it’s difficult to escape that uneasy sense.)
But when Jacqueline introduces Simon to her childhood friend, the stunning heiress Linnet Ridgeway (Gadot), he is completely smitten.
Who would blame him? This is where Branagh’s decision to film at 65mm comes into play. Gadot’s arrival into the dark club in a drapey, shimmering silver gown is more dreamy and creamy than anything else that happens later on the boat. Simon and Linnet are married in no time, and Poirot finds himself swept up in their opulent honeymoon party on the Nile while on holiday in Egypt.
He’s there at the request of his lovely old buddy Bouc (Tom Bateman repeating his “Orient Express” role), whose affluent, artistic mother, Euphemia (an amusingly caustic Annette Bening), has come along for the ride.
Linnet’s lawyer/cousin Katchadourian (Ali Fazal); her ex-fiancé (Russell Brand in an admirably subdued effort); her personal maid (Rose Leslie); and her godmother with her travelling nurse are all aboard the SS Karnak.
They’re portrayed by the long-running comedic combo Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French, and you wonder what they’d do with this material if given free rein.
Since Salome was playing the night they met, the Otterbournes have also been invited to the Doyles’ wedding—which is a good thing, because Okonedo single-handedly steals the film with her flawlessly delivered zingers.
Again, I’d want to see a film on that individual.
And there’s an unwanted guest who keeps turning up, first at the hotel and then on the ship: the jilted Jackie, following the newlyweds and giving everyone yet more excuse to linger about, listening and side-eying in different well-appointed parlours.
Mackey’s big, dark eyes add just the proper amount of craziness to the part.But, like almost everyone else in “Death on the Nile,” she isn’t much more than a few of character qualities. Brand, Fazal, French, and Leslie receive the short end of the stick.
So when there’s a murder—and there’s always a murder when Hercule Poirot is around—this whodunit primarily becomes a who-cares. Even after the detective’s clever probing, we learn much too little about these folks.
Meanwhile, in the middle of the film, where a passionate relationship should be the driving force for thrills and tension, there’s a massive void shaped like Hammer and Gadot.
They have no physical or emotional connection with one another.Their timing and body language are both off. It’s difficult to believe these two individuals have fallen so deeply and impulsively in love with one other that they’re prepared to sever an engagement (his) and a beloved relationship (hers) in order to be together.
We can’t even enjoy the surroundings fully. So much of “Death on the Nile” feels hollow and false, like a slick, CGI-rendered recreation of truly vast and amazing scenery. This may be “Death on the Nile: The Video Game” at times. Given how long the film has been delayed due to the epidemic, it may have been the case.
The film is now playing in theaters.