Death on the Nile is an enjoyable (and somewhat forgettable) mystery movie, featuring a star-studded cast and beautiful visuals—even if the fun is undercut with some unnecessary self-seriousness towards the end.
Kenneth Branagh returns as director and star for his sequel to 2017’s Murder on the Orient Express, both adaptations of Agatha Christie’s popular Hercule Poirot detective stories. While the characters and mystery of Nile are less engaging than Orient Express, Branagh’s second film is an improvement over his last Poirot adventure as far as execution. The pacing is more even and Branagh takes advantage of the exotic backdrop. His direction and framing perhaps shows off more than he needs to, but it complements the 1930s period setting and pulpy feel of the mystery. He’s once again an admirable Detective Poirot, giving a suitably-chompy performance. The director who once advised actors to “bathe in the river of ham” regularly follows his own advice, and it feels perfectly suited to Nile‘s story and tone.
The cast that surrounds him is full of bonafide stars and character actors, all doing their best to imbue personality into this disparate collection of suspects. Films like these work best when the characters are a little too larger-than-life, and everyone involved seems to be on the same page with what movie they’re making. Some critics have taken shots at Gal Gadot’s performance, which neither bothers me nor feels out of place in this film; in fact, her acting choices and natural accent only enhance her charisma and watchability. I can’t understate how distracting Armie Hammer is, given the new context around him, especially when the film pauses several times to let Hammer dance seductively with his co-stars (an odd choice regardless). Branagh’s hands are tied as a filmmaker, as Hammer is featured so prominently in the movie, replacing him would’ve likely amounted to reshooting the entire movie. They did the best they could with the situation.
This is a smaller nitpick, but Death on the Nile also repeats a bizarre trope of answering questions that no one asked, usually about an iconic symbol or gesture. The trope hit its apex with the unnecessary explanation of Han Solo’s surname in 2018’s Solo: A Star Wars Story. It’s never as poignant or cute as the screenwriter believes, and usually just limits or demystifies the world. In an extended prologue, audiences finally learn why detective Hercule Poirot has his famous mustache. If you figured it was because mustaches were (and are) common, or more likely gave little-to-no thought to the question entirely, then you would be mistaken!
Not to invoke Star Wars twice, but Branagh’s Christie series reminds me of how George Lucas’s prequel trilogy had its thunder stolen when Peter Jackson’s (far-superior) The Lord of the Rings trilogy debuted alongside it. On a much smaller scale, 2019’s Knives Out breathed such fresh, inventive air into the mystery/detective genre that another straightforward Christie adaptation feels a little long in the tooth. That said, Branagh’s performance and direction produces a serviceable two hours, and maybe even extends an invitation to continue adapting more of Christie’s stories. We’ll see how Knives Out 2 does.
Death on the Nile is currently playing in theaters. It runs 127 minutes and is rated PG-13 for violence, some bloody images, and sexual material.
I couldn’t agree more. It was fun, and then left me hollow at the end. Please review Point Break.