Good performances let down by the screenplay

Rating: 7/10 (21 November 2017)

Murder on the Orient Express is the second most known mystery novel by the Agatha Christie, the best selling mystery novelist in of all time. And it's a pretty good book, with a very out there mystery which Poirot, in his usual manner, sums up in a seemingly impossible series of logical leaps right at the end as all the twists and turns are suddenly revealed.
And therein lies the problem with this movie. Oh, to go over the rest, well it's fine and dandy. Branagh brings a great, thoroughly entertaining Poirot to the screen. Really he's the reason I enjoyed it at all. The rest of the cast feels like they're giving a good effort as well, even if most of them don't have enough screen time, or lines, to be as effective as they might have been.
Heck I'll give an extra bonus to Daisy Ridley, who gives the best performance of all them next to Branagh himself, and that with far less screen time to do so. Other than being obviously too young for the part she's playing she's near perfect in the role. And while I'm praising the movie I might say I'd be tempted to vote it for best Cinematography in the Oscars. It's an absolutely gorgeous film at times.
But, well it's a mystery film. And that's getting back to the problem that lies at the heart of it, which is that writer Michael Green doesn't give the audience nearly enough credit in figuring out what the actual mystery is; nor does he give the actual mystery part near enough focus. Unlike the book we are given far, far too many real suspects, and far too many hints and coincidences to really be blown away by Poirot's revelations by the end. Instead of a dramatic, shocking twist ending that makes the likes of The Usual Suspects and The Sixth Sense feel like they broadcast and foreshadowed their endings to the high heavens we just get an "Oh. OK I guess. That makes sense."
And this preys upon the rest of the movie as well. It isn't an engaging mystery where the mystery itself is the star of the show, and we're honed in on trying to figure it out. Instead it plays more like a character piece with the amiable Poirot himself as the star, rather than the mystery where the focus should be. Which is a shame really. The writer does a very nice job otherwise of adapting a book that could be a stage play into something more filmic. All the characters are introduced well, taking Poirot's personalityless Watson clone/foil out entirely works out wonderfully. But a mystery without the mystery as the star really does fall short in a fundamental way.