'Murder on the Orient Express' is perhaps Agatha Christie's best-loved story, a perfectly-conceived locked-room mystery, with a typically preposterous resolution. Kenneth Branagh, who also directs, is the latest in a long line of actors to take on the role of detective Hercule Poirot, and never has Poirot been more magnificently moustached. Poirot is, of course, more a collection of personal mannerisms than a truly rounded character, but Branagh does a reasonable job of bringing him to at least half-a-life (although I still prefer the more forceful interpretation of Ustinov). However, the film lacks a certain tension: a potential murderer is believed to be one of 12 people trapped on a snowbound train, but a consonant sense of claustrophobic menace is lacking. One problem with a locked-room mystery, of course, is precisely that the plot, following the murder, has literally nowhere to go. The result is a moderately diverting film but one that adds little to the previous interpretations of the story.
Review of Murder on the Orient Express
