I’m flabbergasted for all the wrong reasons.
I do sincerely hope this film was a joke. Or a nightmare, perhaps? It was catastrophic, quite honestly. That’s what happens when Hollywood in 2017 thinks they still produce much quality content.
Murder on the Orient Express was sort of a “all that glitters is not gold”, as they say. It was nice to look at, the scenery elegant and all, but terribly melodramatic to a laughable extent. Kenneth Branagh directed and starred as Poirot himself, and I’m on the verge of writing him a very strongly-worded letter of disappointment.
For fans of Christie, or past film adaptations, it probably won’t be a surprise to you that this version is quite poor. I had hope! I’ll admit it, I walked into the theater hoping that it would be good.
Instead, within the first two minutes, Poirot is too well…mobile? Active? Snobby? I mean, how much emphasis must you put on the eggs? It’s a nice touch to his character in the books, but the film got off to a truly rocky start with him measuring their height oh-so-meticulously.
It’s disheartening that the best part of the film was Daisy Ridley’s hair and costuming.
For an all-star cast, it really was subpar. You can have too much of a good thing, for this movie was a true example of that. I knew never to trust Gilderoy Lockhart…