Express delivers the goods

MURDER on the Orient Express feels strangely like a telemovie on a big budget, but remains quite compelling to watch, and satisfying to see the mystery revealed.

Any kind of big-screen retelling of an Agatha Christie story is a bit of a risk, I think.

Mainly, that’s because Christie’s stories are so seminal to the crime fiction genre that they are almost cliches in their own right. The mysteries have been told and retold so many times on stage and screen that to a modern audience they can feel predictable and formulaic.

Also, it is hard to think of her iconic detective, Hercule Poirot, without thinking of David Suchet in the role he famously occupied for decades of TV movies.

This latest retelling of Murder on the Orient Express, arguably the most famous of Christie’s crime novels, doubles down on these risks by not changing the mystery’s resolution from the book, and by giving us a very different interpretation of Poirot.

And in the hands of producer/director and star Kenneth Branagh, it is a risk that pays off — because he’s Kenneth Branagh, damn it, he can do anything.

Branagh stars as Belgian freelance detective Hercule Poirot, fresh from solving a mystery in Jerusalem (in classic theatrical reveal-tothe-crowd fashion), and now boarding a train, the Orient Express, to return him to London for his next assignment.

But in the mountains of eastern Europe the train is derailed by an avalanche, stranding the passengers in the middle of nowhere while they wait for the line to be cleared.

During the night, though,

MARTAIN

one of the train’s occupants has been murdered, and since Poirot happens to be on board, he occupies his time by trying to solve the closed-room mystery.

Now, it needs to be said that the film is very faithful to the book, so you will certainly enjoy the twists and reveals of the beautifully constructed plot a lot more if you are unfamiliar with it.

But I suspect that for Agatha Christie fans, the thrill of seeing a new production isn’t in the vain hope of being surprised by the ending, rather in enjoying the journey anew.

Branagh gives a marvellous performance as Poirot, sporting a mightily impressive moustache, which might not be quite what Christie imagined in her books, but is nonetheless a perfect piece of physical characterisation.

This Poirot is a man almost crippled by his own obsessive compulsive disorder. His ability to always “see the world as it should be” makes most things in life intolerable for him, surrounded as he is by chaos rather than order, but the affliction becomes an advantage in solving crimes.

And he is a perfectly formed character here. He is not simply some infallible problem-solving robot who drifts through the story, assembles the clues, reveals the villain to a drawing-room full of suspects, and then wanders off into the sunset.

This Poirot is a real human, a person who has his own developmental arc during the story. And while we never really learn that much about Poirot’s life or background in this movie, we certainly come to understand the kind of person he is.

These precious little pieces of characterisation come in the form of his many quirks and habits, and the details of his physical appearance, such as that immaculate moustache and perfectly straightened suit. When he steps in a pile of manure in Jerusalem, it is not the dirty shoe that bothers him so much as the fact that it is only on one shoe — so he steps in it with the other foot as well, to restore balance.

It is fleeting moments like this that tell us so much without having to tell us anything. And by forcing Poirot to challenge his own very black-and-white moral code in the course of the movie, he is a person who grows and changes between the first scene and the last. Beautifully done.

And the rest of the cast is fantastic as well. The movie boasts an impressive A-list cast in the supporting roles: Josh Gad, Willem Dafoe, Johnny Depp, Judi Dench, Penelope Cruz, Daisy Ridley, Michelle Pfeiffer and Derek Jacobi all play fellow passengers.

Let’s face it, they’re all just there to be suspects in the murder, and they’re all archetypes: the butler, the governess, the missionary, the professor, etc. And the film itself actively plays on the audience’s own awareness of the cliches and tropes at work.

As aware as you might be of all these formulaic elements, it is still very hard not to just get caught up in the chase, forgetting to be cynical and just enjoying watching Poirot tease the threads apart, all piercing blue eyes and detached confidence.

Stylistically everything about this movie is so simple. It doesn’t need to reinvent the story in any way, just lets the mystery be the star, lets Poirot be the guide, and gives us the kind of production values and acting performances necessary to make it feel fresh.

And there are a few hints that there will be more in the series, too, which I would welcome heartily. now showing at Village Cinemas, Cmax and the State Cinema, rated M Rating: is