Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie is one of the classic books that everyone is supposed to read…editors note, I never got past the third chapter. And the bore I discovered in those pages, transferred right on over to the big screen.
Hercule Poirot (Kenneth Branagh) can spot what’s wrong from a mile away.
I can only see the world as it should be. And when it is not, the imperfections stand out like the nose in the middle of the face.
A three-day train ride, full of anonymity, and the gentle rocking…where anything can happen, and happen it does, as Poirot takes a ride on the Orient Express a murder unfolds, and it’s left up to him to figure out who is guilty and why.
They loaded the film up with superstars, in an attempt to make it watchable…from old-timers like Judi Dench and Johnny Depp (who is so out of his regular element), to up-and-comers like Daisy Ridley and Leslie Odom Jr.
Michelle Pfeiffer, William Dafoe, Penelope Cruz (who is extremely religious (read: weird)), and Josh Gad are among the others rounding things out.
The movie is antique and classic, and it’s just too slow moving to get pulled into, while at the same time there is just too much info to care for any of the characters.
Don’t bother wasting your time watching this one, getting a 5.5 out of 10.
Aviously 