You can always count on Agatha Christie for a surprise, and the big twist in A Haunting in Venice is that it's actually a pretty terrific movie.

I say this as a die-hard Christie fan who didn't much care for Kenneth Branagh's earlier adaptations of Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile. Charming as he was in the role of Hercule Poirot, the movies themselves felt like lavish but superfluous retreads of two of the author's best-known classics.

One of the lessons of A Haunting in Venice is that sometimes, it's a good idea to go with weaker source material. Christie's 1969 novel Hallowe'en Party is one of her thinner whodunits, and Branagh and his screenwriter, Michael Green, have smartly overhauled the story, which is now set in 1947 Venice. They've also gleefully embraced the Halloween theme, taking the cozy conventions of the detective story and pushing them in the direction of a full-blown haunted-house thriller.

OK, so the result isn't exactly Don't Look Now, the most richly atmospheric horror movie ever shot in Venice. But Branagh and his collaborators, especially the cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos and the production designer John Paul Kelly, have clearly fallen under the spell of one of the world's most beautiful and cinematically striking cities. While there are the expectedly scenic shots of gondolas and canals at sunset, most of the action takes place after dark at a magnificent palazzo owned by a famed opera singer, played by Kelly Reilly.

She's hosting a lavish Halloween party, where Poirot is one of the guests, tagging along with his longtime American friend, Ariadne Oliver, a popular mystery novelist played with snappy wit by Tina Fey. Also in attendance are Jamie Dornan as a troubled doctor and an entrancing Michelle Yeoh as a medium, known as "the unholy Mrs. Reynolds," who says she can speak to the dead.

Mrs. Reynolds performs a séance, hoping to contact the spirit of the opera singer's daughter, who died under mysterious circumstances at the palazzo a year earlier. Soon another death will take place: One of the party guests turns up murdered, and while Poirot is officially retired, he decides to take on the case. He even asks his mystery-writer friend, Miss Oliver, to help him interview suspects, though not before first questioning her about her whereabouts at the time of the killing.

As Poirot, Branagh is clearly having so much fun wearing that enormous mustache and speaking in that droll French accent that it's been hard not to enjoy his company, even when the movies have been lackluster. For once, though, the case he's investigating is just as pleasurable to get lost in.

It's an unusually spooky story: The palazzo, we find out early on, is rumored to be haunted by the vengeful ghosts of children who died there years ago during an outbreak of the plague. Branagh piles on the freaky visuals and jolting sound effects, to the point where even a supreme skeptic like Poirot begins to question what's going on. These horror elements may be unabashedly creaky and derivative, but they work because the movie embraces them to the hilt.

A Haunting in Venice sometimes feels closer to the work of Christie's undersung contemporary John Dickson Carr, whose brilliant detective stories often flirted with the possibility of the supernatural. That said, the actual solution to the mystery, while clever enough, isn't especially ingenious or complicated.

What gives the story its deeper resonance is its potent sense of time and place. It's just two years after the end of World War II, and many of the suspects have witnessed unspeakable horrors. The medium, Mrs. Reynolds, was a nurse during the war, which may account for why she feels such an affinity for the dead. Everyone, from the grieving opera singer to the doctor traumatized by his memories, seems to be mourning some kind of loss.

In Branagh's retelling, Poirot is himself a World War I veteran. One of the reasons he's such a staunch atheist is that he's seen too much cruelty and suffering to believe that God exists. He doesn't exactly change his mind by the end of A Haunting in Venice. But it's a testament to this movie's poignancy that Poirot emerges from his retirement with a renewed belief that he can still do some good in the world. He's eagerly looking forward to his next case, and so, to my delight, am I.

Copyright 2023 Fresh Air. To see more, visit Fresh Air.

Transcript

DAVE DAVIES, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. Our film critic Justin Chang says that "A Haunting In Venice," now in theaters, is the best of the three Agatha Christie adaptations starring Kenneth Branagh as the famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot. The movie, which Branagh also directed, is an adaptation of Christie's mystery novel "Hallowe'en Party," and it also features Tina Fey and Michelle Yeoh. Here's Justin's review.

JUSTIN CHANG, BYLINE: You can always count on Agatha Christie for a surprise. And the big twist in "A Haunting In Venice" is that it's actually a pretty terrific movie. I say this as a die-hard Christie fan who didn't much care for Kenneth Branagh's earlier adaptations of "Murder On The Orient Express" and "Death On The Nile." Charming as he was in the role of Hercule Poirot, the movies themselves felt like lavish but superfluous retreads of two of the author's best-known classics.

One of the lessons of "A Haunting In Venice" is that sometimes, it's a good idea to go with weaker source material. Christie's 1969 novel "Hallowe'en Party" is one of her thinner whodunits, and Branagh and his screenwriter, Michael Green, have smartly overhauled the story, which is now set in 1947 Venice. They've also gleefully embraced the Halloween theme, taking the cozy conventions of the detective story and pushing them in the direction of a full-blown haunted-house thriller.

OK, so the result isn't exactly "Don't Look Now," the most richly atmospheric horror movie ever shot in Venice. But Branagh and his collaborators, especially the cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos and the production designer John Paul Kelly, have clearly fallen under the spell of one of the world's most beautiful and cinematically striking cities. While there are the expectedly scenic shots of gondolas and canals at sunset, most of the action takes place after dark at a magnificent palazzo owned by a famed opera singer, played by Kelly Reilly.

She's hosting a lavish Halloween party, where Poirot is one of the guests tagging along with his longtime American friend, Ariadne Oliver, a popular mystery novelist played with snappy wit by Tina Fey. Also in attendance are Jamie Dornan as a troubled doctor and an entrancing Michelle Yeoh as a medium, known as the unholy Mrs. Reynolds, who says she can speak to the dead. Poirot, ever the rationalist, sets out to debunk her claim.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "A HAUNTING IN VENICE")

KENNETH BRANAGH: (As Hercule Poirot) I must tell you, madame, I have been all my life uncharmed by your kind.

MICHELLE YEOH: (As Mrs. Reynolds) My kind?

BRANAGH: (As Hercule Poirot) Opportunists who prey on the vulnerable, no?

YEOH: (As Mrs. Reynolds) You don't believe in the soul's endurance after death?

BRANAGH: (As Hercule Poirot) I have lost my faith.

YEOH: (As Mrs. Reynolds) How sad for you.

BRANAGH: (As Hercule Poirot) Yes, it is most sad. The truth is sad.

CHANG: Mrs. Reynolds performs a seance hoping to contact the spirit of the opera singer's daughter, who died under mysterious circumstances at the palazzo a year earlier. Soon another death will take place. One of the party guests turns up murdered. And while Poirot is officially retired, he decides to take on the case. He even asks his mystery writer friend, Ms. Oliver, to help him interview suspects, though not before first questioning her about her whereabouts at the time of the killing.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "A HAUNTING IN VENICE")

TINA FEY: (As Ariadne) Don't you dare look at me like a murder suspect. We're old friends.

BRANAGH: (As Hercule Poirot) Every murderer is somebody's old friend. But you have written too many clever murders to fall at the foot of your first victim. And you are, so far, viably alibied by the chef for the time, which is why I shall now ask you to assist me in my investigation.

FEY: (As Ariadne) When do we start?

BRANAGH: (As Hercule Poirot) When you collect for me our host.

(SOUNDBITE OF FOOTSTEPS)

FEY: (As Ariadne) I knew you were in there somewhere. All it took was a corpse and look at you, Hercule Poirot all over again.

CHANG: As Poirot, Branagh is clearly having so much fun wearing that enormous mustache and speaking in that droll French accent that it's been hard not to enjoy his company, even when the movies have been lackluster. For once, though, the case he's investigating is just as pleasurable to get lost in. It's an unusually spooky story. The palazzo, we find out early on, is rumored to be haunted by the vengeful ghosts of children who died there years ago during an outbreak of the plague. Branagh piles on the freaky visuals and jolting sound effects to the point where even a supreme skeptic like Poirot begins to question what's going on.

These horror elements may be unabashedly creaky and derivative, but they work because the movie embraces them to the hilt. "A Haunting In Venice" sometimes feels closer to the work of Christie's under-sung contemporary John Dickson Carr, whose brilliant detective stories often flirted with the possibility of the supernatural. That said, the actual solution to the mystery, while clever enough, isn't especially ingenious or complicated. What gives the story its deeper resonance is its potent sense of time and place.

It's just two years after the end of World War II, and many of the suspects have witnessed unspeakable horrors. The medium, Mrs. Reynolds, was a nurse during the war, which may account for why she feels such an affinity for the dead. Everyone, from the grieving opera singer to the doctor traumatized by his memories, seems to be mourning some kind of loss. In Branagh's retelling, Poirot is himself a World War I veteran. One of the reasons he's such a staunch atheist is that he's seen too much cruelty and suffering to believe that God exists. He doesn't exactly change his mind by the end of "A Haunting In Venice." But it's a testament to this movie's poignancy that Poirot emerges from his retirement with a renewed belief that he can still do some good in the world. He's eagerly looking forward to his next case, and so, to my delight, am I.

DAVIES: Justin Chang is the film critic for the LA Times. He reviewed "A Haunting In Venice," directed by and starring Kenneth Branagh. On Monday's show, we speak with actor, producer, director and activist Kerry Washington. She's written a new memoir, titled "Thicker Than Water," about her career as an award-winning performer and the discovery of a secret she learned as an adult about her origins. I hope you can join us. FRESH AIR's executive producer is Danny Miller. For Terry Gross and Tonya Mosley, I'm Dave Davies.

(SOUNDBITE OF EMMET COHEN'S "PITTER PANTHER PATTER") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

300x250 Ad

Support quality journalism, like the story above, with your gift right now.

Donate