'A Haunting in Venice' Review
Kenneth Branagh's philosophy shines through more than Agatha Christie's, but he still delivers a solid and creepy whodunnit.
I have mixed feelings about Kenneth Branagh’s star-studded Poirot movies. On the one hand, it is amazing to see these classic stories get polished, big-budget cinematic treatments with top-tier casts. One of Branagh’s strengths has always been creating lavish and dramatic adaptations of classic literature. His best Shakespeare films are energetic and operatic, and his Thor film (one of the MCU’s most underrated entries) perfectly encapsulates the majesty of his mythic subject matter. These Poirot films capture that same dramatic excellence, and as a fan of cinematic spectacle I generally enjoy Branagh’s interpretations.
However, as a fan of the original Agatha Christie books and the excellent David Suchet-led small screen adaptations, I have always felt that Branagh does not understand the soul of the character. In a recent appearance on the Pints with Aquinas podcast, Dr. Ben Reinhard stated that one of the reasons Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings films are not as good as Tolkien’s books is that Jackson does not understand simple goodness. While I must disagree with my former professor (cum metu et tremore) about his interpretation of the Lord of the Rings films, I think that a similar accusation can be levelled at Kenneth Branagh in his Poirot films. None of Branagh’s characters are simply good people; everyone, as Bob Wallace might say, has an angle. Christie’s Poirot has a talent for making deep and lasting friendships with good people, who recur often in her books. Some of her most memorable characters, such as Inspector Japp, Captain Hastings, and Ariadne Oliver, are these long-standing friends of Poirot. In Branagh’s films, Poirot seems incapable of actually making deep friendships, and his few friends tend to betray him for cheap moments of manufactured drama. This Poirot is a solitary egotistical genius, searching for meaning in his life and without strong friends to rely on. Perhaps this reveals more about Kenneth Branagh than it does Poirot.
Although I rather liked 2017’s Murder on the Orient Express, 2022’s Death on the Nile was a massive letdown for me, so I came into A Haunting in Venice with fairly low expectations. However, I was pleasantly surprised with the film. A Haunting in Venice brings together the best of Branagh’s filmmaking with only a few of his more annoying tendencies. His Poirot, although different from the character of Christie’s novel, is compelling and likeable in this film and Branagh’s dramatic sensibilities work really well to create a spooky, gothic environment for this All Hallow’s Eve thriller.
The film opens with Poirot (Branagh) in retirement in Venice. His mustache is as bushy as ever, undoing whatever ungodly impulse drove him to shave it off at the end of Death on the Nile. He lives the life of a recluse, refusing to see anyone but especially any potential clients. However, his old friend Ariadne Oliver (Tina Fey), a best-selling author on a bit of a cold streak, arrives to try and shake him out of his complacency. Madame Oliver wants him to come with her to a séance on Halloween to expose an infamous psychic, Joyce Reynolds (Michelle Yeoh), who will try to contact the soul of an opera singer’s daughter who tragically committed suicide years before. The opera singer, Rowena Drake (Kelly Reilly), lives in a Venetian palazzo rumored to be haunted by the souls of children who died there during a plague, and the whole place has a creepy, rundown atmosphere which is perfect for a Halloween mystery. Of course, nothing goes smoothly and as the bodies pile up Poirot must uncover the house’s secrets and expose the vile murderer among the guests at the séance.
Most of Poirot’s fellow guests are quick to attribute the queer experiences they have to preternatural forces, but Poirot himself is a hardboiled skeptic. Branagh channels the knight Antonius Block from Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal in Poirot’s attitude towards the supernatural: Poirot wishes God would directly reveal Himself to him so that his analytical, skeptical nature could have certainty beyond doubt of God’s existence. Poirot announces that he would welcome proof of ghosts or goblins because that would mean that the soul exists after death, and that would indicate the existence of a loving Creator. Although this goes against the character of Christie’s Poirot, who was a devout, rosary-praying Catholic, it presents an interesting conflict for this film, as well as another fascinating glimpse into Kenneth Branagh’s psyche. Poirot as a skeptic in search of belief is a much more interesting character than a detective simply debunking any notion of supernatural intervention, and Branagh effectively exploits that tension in this film.
The characters are, for the most part, well-developed and well-played. Last year’s Academy Award winner Michelle Yeoh is especially good as the spiritualist Joyce Reynolds, and young Jude Hill (who previously worked with Branagh in Belfast) shows an acting maturity surprising in one so young. Unfortunately, Branagh commits character assassination on Ariadne Oliver (can’t say more without divulging spoilers), one of my favorite recurring Poirot sidekicks. Other than her, the characters and cast are solid and are quite enjoyable to spend time with.
Overall, A Haunting in Venice is a fun, spooky, satisfying whodunnit. Although longtime fans of Poirot might quibble with some of the character choices, it holds together well as a film and is a thoroughly entertaining time at the movies. Kenneth Branagh is one of the few people keeping cinematic whodunnits alive, and if you don’t want a side of leftist values with your breezy mystery a la Rian Johnson, he’s the best in the business. Between Branagh’s Poirot series, Hugh Laurie’s solid BBC series Why Didn’t They Ask Evans?, and last year’s excellent See How They Run, there seems to be a bit of a Christie renaissance going on right now and I, for one, am here for it.