Runs out of steam halfway in

Rating: 6/10 (10 November 2017)

*** Some spoilers ahead for the handful of people who are not familiar with Christie's classic murder mystery. ***
As a fan of the book and the Sidney Lumet adaptation, I was curious how Kenneth Branagh's take on Agatha Christie's famous story would play out. On paper, all the ingredients for a decent (or even great), modern day adaptation are there: A star-studded cast, beautiful production-design and costumes and a seasoned director with deep roots in both stage- and film-work. And for about half of the film's running time, all that seems to hold the piece together pretty well. There's a sense of "class" about the flick: Grand vistas, beautiful art-deco environments, exotic locations and a general flair of slower, more elegant era (not so) long gone-by. I can even live with the director's odd choice of playing the lead-role himself. Branagh sure wouldn't be my first pick for Poirot and he does have a slightly different take on the famous Belgian super-sleuth. This Poirot seems more brooding and "conflicted" than any other version I've seen before - but I'm not sure this change adds anything to either the character or to this particular story. On the other hand, we do get satisfyingly quirky moments showcasing Poirot's little eccentricities. His obsession with orderliness, cleanliness and his quick and witty sense of humor.
As expected with this sort of group, the rest of the cast are more than up to the task as well - if they are allowed to occupy the screen, that is. Sadly, a lot of characters are criminally underused. We hardly get to know some players who are vital to the plot and who held much more prominent roles in Sidney Lumet's version. For example: One of the main suspects and an important character overall has so few lines that he almost seems superfluous in Branagh's adaptation. And I think we have the director to blame here, who seems to be infatuated with his own face. Instead of spending more time with the rest of the ensemble, he gives us one long close-up of himself after the other - a decision whose negative impact on the film is exacerbated by a seemingly trivial item - Poirot's facial hair. At some point while making the film, someone must have thought that having "the greatest mustache in London" means that Poirot goes through life looking like a walrus. It wouldn't have been a huge deal, if Branagh hadn't insisted to stick this hairy monstrosity in our faces again and again. By the fourth long close-up with the monster-stache center-stage, the audience in my theater were beginning to chuckle.
But I digress ... It's when the titular murder occurs that the movie really fell apart for me. And it's mostly down to unforced errors committed by the script. For example: In a lot of places, this film is closer to Christie's novel than the Lumet-version of the 70s. Little details that Lumet left out are included here - like the fictional Mr Harris whose berth Poirot occupies on the first night on the train. But in other places, the script veers off and tries to trick us into thinking it was headed towards a different conclusion than the source-material. Which, if you know the story and the ending, feels more like an attempt at trickery than actual creativity, because (Spoiler!) ... the movie ultimately does not have the guts to re-write Christie's solution.
And then there's the matter of leaving out crucial details which rob the ending of its original tone. A major point in the original was the fact that the victim had been found guilty and more or less convicted of murder already, but then had to be released due to a technicality. Making his death on the train less of an act of revenge or vigilantism and more like an act of citizens trying to ensure that justice is being served. Branagh's version leaves out this crucial detail about the trial and thus makes the group of murderers seem more like an angry lynch mob ... which in turn makes Poirot's decision to let them go feel out of character for him. In the original, we could comprehend why Poirot (albeit with much inner conflict) decided to let them get away with murder. In this version, we get a hysteric Michelle Pfeiffer and lots of close ups of Poirot staring into space while the music swells in the background. Ultimately, we're left to wonder why this stickler for justice and righteousness would let this particular murder go unpunished.
I also take some exception to the somewhat lame attempts at "diverse casting". I have no objections to transforming white characters into ones of color - but those changes should make sense within the story and within the period that's being portrayed. In this particular case for example, it would've made much more sense to re-write the character in question as either an Indian or Middle Eastern man. But going with a black guy, the story has to perform some serious mental gymnastics in order to explain his presence in the story.
I do wonder however, whether someone who goes into this film without any knowledge of the original story will share my concerns and might actually enjoy the film more than I did. If you look past the puzzling decisions made by the screenwriter, there's much to be admired here. Sadly though, I couldn't help but notice the needless changes they chose to make and thus this film, for me, wasn't better than slightly above average.
6/10