Extravagant crime

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Coming next on The World and Everything in It: Death on the Nile.

The latest film adaptation of the famous detective story arrives in theaters today. Here’s reviewer Collin Garbarino.

COLLIN GARBARINO, REVIEWER: Kenneth Branagh returns to the role of the world’s most famous detective, Hercule Poirot, in this lavish adaptation of Agatha Christie’s novel. He also directs this film about wealthy Westerners traveling in Egypt during the 1930s.

Bouc: Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Doyle.

Gal Gadot plays Linnet, who until her recent marriage to the penniless Simon Doyle, was the richest and most glamorous single young woman in England. Linnet charters a riverboat called the Karnak to take her and her husband, played by Armie Hammer, on a honeymoon excursion down the Nile. In a show of extravagance, the couple invites numerous friends and family along for the ride. Poirot improbably finds himself swept up in the fun.

Linnet: We have the Karnak all to ourselves until Abu Simbel. Don’t worry about your things. Darling Louise will go back and pack up all your rooms for you and meet us at Shellal.

Louise: Happy to, miss.

Linnet: We have a piano tuned, a chef stolen from Shepherds of Cairo, and enough champagne to fill the Nile.

But, of course, this is a murder mystery, so not everything is as festive as it seems. Linnet’s marriage to Simon hasn’t made everyone happy, and some of those friends and family aren’t really on friendly terms.

Bouc: If I were in his shoes, I’d only come here to put a bullet in the groom. Our other guests, Linnet’s godmother, who despises Linnet’s wealth, and the godmother’s nursemaid Bowers, who covets it. As does Linnet’s own maid, poor Louise. Oh, and that’s cousin Andrew, he’s a slippery fish. No one except Linnet trusts him. We find mother and I are the only sane people here. The only one who seems to like Linnet at all is her old school mate Rosalie.

In case you haven’t read the book, I won’t spoil anything for you, but suffice it to say, someone will die on the Karnak, and it will be up to the world’s greatest detective to discern the whos, whys, and hows of it.

Poirot: I suspect you invited me for reasons other than the fun.

Linnet: When you have money, no one is ever really your friend.

[scream]

Agatha Christie was known for her invisible prose. The plot and the characters drive the story. But Death on the Nile is anything but invisible. The film is chock full of exquisite scenes of exotic scenery and lavish depression-era sets and costumes. Branagh’s direction is equally extravagant. He gives us long takes, exciting use of negative space, attention to detail. Shot after shot we’re exposed to so much artistry that it threatens to overwhelm the storyline. Death on the Nile is a truly beautiful movie, perhaps to the point of being self-indulgent, but I’m not going to fault it for that.

Poirot: What did you do last night?

Marie: You accuse me of murder?

Bouc: He accuses everyone of murder.

Poirot: It is a problem. I admit.

Death on the Nile is rated PG-13 because, well, there’s a murder, but the movie also contains some pretty suggestive scenes. Everyone keeps their clothes on, but this adaptation is much racier than anything you’ll find in a Christie novel. And it’s where Death on the Nile departs from Christie’s original vision that I think the film stumbles. I don’t want to sound like the guy who complains that the book was better than the movie. But Christie was so good at what she did, that it seems unwise to tamper with it too much.

Another big departure: too much of the movie asks us to think about the meaning of love. The third rule of golden-age detective fiction—yes, there are official rules—is that the story must not contain any love interest. It’s about murder, not romance. Everyone, even Poirot, seems to get a love interest in this movie, and fleshing out these subplots steals too much time from the interviewing and detecting scenes. Some of the added subplots address social issues about race and same-sex attraction, and these token attempts at contemporary relevancy weren’t fully thought through. Some of the changes don’t make much sense, and an Agatha Christie story, though often complicated, should always make sense.

Bouc: Here she is. The only woman I have ever loved. Mother. Mother, you must meet Hercule Poirot.

Euphemia: Why?

Bouc: He’s only the greatest detective alive.

Poirot: He exaggerates. No, he’s quite correct actually.

Euphemia: You are quite the most ludicrous man I have ever seen.

Poirot: Not the first time I’ve heard this.

Bouc: And you’re in my view.

Poirot: Stepping aside.

While I didn’t care for the film’s unfocused script, I couldn’t help but like Branagh’s version of Poirot. He gives us a convincing depiction of the quirky, vain Belgian whose little gray cells can work their way through any problem. The film tries to humanize Poirot too much for my taste, but in the end Branagh’s Poirot manages to solve this case of style over substance and bring this beautiful and deadly trip down the Nile to a satisfying conclusion.

Poirot: Lock the door! The murderer is here and will stay here.

I’m Collin Garbarino.

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