A Haunting in Venice - 2023 film review

When Agatha Christie's Halloween Party finally appeared in an affordable paperback edition for the first time, I snapped it up right away. I was still a teenager, and I'd read all her mystery novels and was impatient for another one. But although it definitely had some pleasing ingredients, I remember that my over-riding emotion was one of dismay. I'd hoped (naively, given that I'd already been disappointed by Third Girl) for something reminiscent of the better Poirot stories, but this novel felt like a real let-down. 

With that in mind, I decided to take a look at the newish film based on the book, A Haunting in Venice, the third Poirot film directed by and starring Kenneth Branagh. I watched his version of Murder on the Orient Express not long after it was released, but I found Michael Green's screenplay soporific and the whole exercise pointless. With that in mind, I didn't bother with Branagh's take on Death on the Nile. But that book, again, was a Poirot masterpiece. It stuck me that, given the problems with Halloween Party, Green (who is again responsible for the screenplay) might actually have improved it. Unfortunately, I don't think he did. His version of the story is utterly different, but - at least in my opinion - unsatisfactory in a whole new variety of ways.

Let me start with the strength of the film. Visually, it's terrific. Venice is, of course, utterly photogenic, and has formed the backdrop to so many great films, including one of my all-time favourites Don't Look Now, as well as some that aren't so good. The decision to set the story in a crumbling palazzo that has nothing to do with the original Christie novel was bold and imaginative and, I think, justifiable. But one comes back to the central question - what is the point of this film?

Sir Kenneth Branagh is a talented and successful actor and director and I'm simply baffled as to why he wants to play Poirot. He can't hope to match the brilliance of David Suchet's portrayal of the character; that's fair enough. But his tortured version of the great detective seems to me to be inferior to the portrayals by both Albert Finney and Peter Ustinov. As for Tina Fey's American version of Ariadne Oliver...

I'm definitely not one of those who doesn't believe that Christie's stories can't (or shouldn't) be adapted in fresh and ambitious ways. It makes perfect sense for the Christie estate to explore new ideas. But I think they work best if the writer tries to stay true, however indirectly, to the author's original vision of the story. Having said that, there's no denying that this film has been a commercial success. So perhaps making money is the point, simple as that. All I can say, regretfully, is that this version of the story was not for me.