movie review death on the nile 2022

Death on the Nile

The champagne is sparkling, the wood decks are gleaming, and the white linens are pressed to a crisp. The glittering cast of “Death on the Nile” is all dressed up but, alas, they have nowhere to go.

Kenneth Branagh ’s adaptation of the Agatha Christie murder mystery, the follow-up to his 2017 “Murder on the Orient Express,” finds the filmmaker once again behind the camera and in front of it as the legendary detective Hercule Poirot. And while it’s clear he’s having a ball as the elaborately mustachioed supersleuth, the journey for us isn’t quite as much escapist fun. There’s a distracting detachment at work here, both in the visual effects and performances. Individual moments from supporting players bring the film to life only sporadically. And while his A-list stars, Armie Hammer and Gal Gadot , may be impossibly beautiful, they’re both oddly stiff and have zero romantic chemistry with each other. (Hammer has other problems, off-screen, which we’ll get to in a moment.)

“Orient Express” writer Michael Green returns to adapt the screenplay, and he’s made some tweaks, which provide some welcome diversity; Sophie Okonedo and Letitia Wright are the primary standouts among the ensemble cast. But it takes an awful long time for the proceedings to get going and the tension to begin mounting. Branagh and Green’s cleverest and most compelling move is the flashback they’ve attached at the start: a striking, black-and-white depiction of the young Poirot in the trenches of World War I, where he demonstrates the resourcefulness and sharp wit that will become his trademarks. A convincingly de-aged Branagh also allows us to witness the origin story of Poirot’s signature mustache, which launches the film on a note of shock and heartbreak. I would rather have watched the rest of that movie; it had texture and verve to it. Instead, we get “Death on the Nile.”

Jumping ahead to 1937 London, we see the established and adored Poirot entering a packed and jumping blues club, where Okonedo’s Salome Otterbourne is performing on stage. Her niece, Wright’s Rosalie Otterbourne, is also her tough-as-nails manager. But there’s a show for Poirot to take in on the floor, as well: the handsome Simon Doyle (Hammer) and his vivacious fiancée, Jacqueline de Bellefort ( Emma Mackey ), are tearing it up with an erotic, acrobatic dance. Seeing Hammer introduced this way, in such an aggressively physical and sexual manner, makes it impossible to ignore the allegations of assault and abuse that several women have made against the actor. (He has denied them and said that whatever occurred within these relationships was consensual. Still, it’s hard to shake that unsettling feeling.)

But once Jacqueline introduces Simon to her childhood friend, the ravishing heiress Linnet Ridgeway (Gadot), he only has eyes for her. And who could blame him? This is where Branagh’s choice to shoot in 65mm is particularly effective. Gadot’s entrance into the smoky club, in a drapey, metallic silver gown, is so dreamy and creamy, it’s richer in fantasy and escape than anything that happens later on the boat. In no time, Simon and Linnet are married, and Poirot finds himself swept up in their tony honeymoon celebration on the Nile while vacationing in Egypt.

He’s there at the insistence of his charming, old friend Bouc ( Tom Bateman , reprising his “Orient Express” role), whose wealthy, painter mother, Euphemia (an enjoyable snarky Annette Bening ), has come along for the adventure. Also aboard the SS Karnak are Linnet’s lawyer/cousin Katchadourian ( Ali Fazal ); her ex-fiancé ( Russell Brand in an interestingly understated turn); her personal maid ( Rose Leslie ); and her godmother with her traveling nurse. They’re played by the longtime comedy duo of Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French , and you long to see what they’d do with this material if left to their own devices. The Otterbournes also have been invited to celebrate the Doyles’ nuptials since Salome was performing the night they met—and it’s a good thing, too, because Okonedo single-handedly steals this movie with her perfectly delivered zingers. Again, I want a movie about that character.

And there’s an uninvited guest who keeps showing up, first at the hotel and later on the ship: the jilted Jackie, stalking the newlyweds and causing yet another reason for everyone to hover about, eavesdropping and side-eying in various well-appointed parlors. With her wide, brown eyes, Mackey brings just the right amount of crazy to the role. But as is the case with just about everyone in “Death on the Nile,” there’s not much to her beyond a couple of character traits. Brand, Fazal, French, and Leslie get especially short shrift. And so when there’s a murder—because of course there’s a murder whenever Hercule Poirot is around—this whodunit mostly becomes a who-cares. We learn far too little about these characters, even after the detective’s strategic questioning.

Meanwhile, at the center of the movie where a passionate romance should be the driving force for thrills and suspense, there’s a giant hole shaped like Hammer and Gadot. They have absolutely no connection with each other physically or emotionally. Their timing and body language is all wrong. It’s impossible to believe these two people have fallen so intensely and spontaneously in love with each other that they’re willing to destroy an engagement (his) and a treasured friendship (hers) to be together.

We can’t properly luxuriate in the scenery, either. So much of “Death on the Nile” looks empty and artificial—a glossy, CGI-rendered version of legitimately grand and impressive sights. At times, this may as well be “Death on the Nile: The Video Game.” Given how long the film has been delayed because of the pandemic, maybe that’s what it should have been.

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Christy Lemire

Christy Lemire is a longtime film critic who has written for RogerEbert.com since 2013. Before that, she was the film critic for The Associated Press for nearly 15 years and co-hosted the public television series “Ebert Presents At the Movies” opposite Ignatiy Vishnevetsky, with Roger Ebert serving as managing editor. Read her answers to our Movie Love Questionnaire here .

• Gal Gadot as Linnet Ridgeway-Doyle
• Russell Brand as Dr Bessner
• Armie Hammer as Simon Doyle
• Kenneth Branagh as Hercule Poirot
• Tom Bateman as Mr. Bouc
• Annette Bening as Euphemia
• Ali Fazal as Andrew Katchadourian
• Dawn French as Mrs Bowers
• Rose Leslie as Louise
• Emma Mackey as Jacqueline de Bellefort
• Sophie Okonedo as Salome Otterbourne
• Jennifer Saunders as Marie Van Schuyler
• Letitia Wright as Rosalie Otterbourne
• Adam Garcia as Syd

Writer (based upon the novel by)

• Agatha Christie

Cinematographer

• Haris Zambarloukos
• Kenneth Branagh
• Patrick Doyle
• Úna Ní Dhonghaíle

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‘Death on the Nile’ Review: Gal Gadot Shines, and Kenneth Branagh Ups His Agatha Christie Game

Branagh's second Christie thriller, in which he once again plays Hercule Poirot as a wry dyspeptic noodge, sharpens the tension on 2017's "Murder on the Orient Express."

By Owen Gleiberman

Owen Gleiberman

Chief Film Critic

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Agatha Christie was born in 1890, and the heyday of movie adaptations of her novels goes quite a ways back (like, 70 or 80 years). The whole structure and flavor of this sort of delectably engineered whodunit, with its cast of suspects drawn in deliberate broad strokes and its know-it-all detective whose powers of deduction descend directly from Sherlock Holmes, is rooted in the cozy symmetry of the studio-system era. The last big-screen Christie adaptation that could be considered an all-out success, critically and commercially, was probably Sidney Lumet’s 1974 “ Murder on the Orient Express ,” a lavishly corny and irresistible amusement in which Albert Finney played the Belgian detective Hercule Poirot as a fussbudget egomaniac with pursed lips and hair that resembled an oil slick (he was like Inspector Clouseau with a brain transplant).

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“Murder on the Orient Express” was actually an event movie (it received half a dozen Oscar nominations, and Ingrid Bergman even won). But the Christie adaptations that followed — “ Death on the Nile ” (1978), “The Mirror Crack’d” (1980), “Evil Under the Sun” (1982) — were half-baked suspense films that felt, collectively, like the fading embers of a genre. In recent decades, the Christie formula has seemed more at home on television (e.g., the British “Miss Marple” series), where it has come off as less hermetic and precious — that is, until Kenneth Branagh picked up the gauntlet for his 2017 remake of “Murder on the Orient Express.” That picture was something of a mixed bag: sterling production values, a puckish sense of play, not enough tension to an overly familiar mystery. But Branagh, acting from behind a mustache so extended it seemed to have its own geological layers, invested Poirot with a wry dyspeptic noodginess.

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“Death on the Nile,” based on Christie’s 1937 novel, is essentially Branagh’s sequel to that film, and I was eager to see if he could tighten the screws on his version of the Christie genre. He does. The new film is crisper and craftier than “Murder on the Orient Express”; it’s a moderately diverting dessert that carries you right along. It never transcends the feeling that you’re seeing a relic injected with life serum, but that, in a way, is part of its minor-league charm.

Apart from Branagh, the first star of “Death on the Nile” is the Nile. Early on, the Egyptian locations feel a touch synthetic — you can tell the Pyramids are CGI — but by the time the characters are wandering through the dusty nooks and crannies of Abu Simbel, the massive riverside temple carved out of a cliff as a monument to King Ramesses II, it becomes a backdrop of arresting majesty. The second star is the S.S. Karnak, the sprawling, two-tiered riverboat steamer that’s hosting a dozen luxury vacationers. Full of passageways and compartments, it’s a paragon of 1930s wealth porn and a better, more elaborate vehicle for suspense than the Orient Express. The third star is a vengeful aristocratic love triangle, which succeeds at engaging us in the drama that precedes the murder, so that the foul play can then sharpen the tension.

At a London nightclub, the vampish heiress Linnet Ridgeway, played by Gal Gadot with a vivacious spark she hasn’t always shown outside the “Wonder Woman” films, takes a spin on the dance floor with Simon Doyle ( Armie Hammer ), the fiancé of her best friend, Jacqueline (Emma Mackey). The three then show up on the Karnak — only Linnet and Simon are now married and on their honeymoon, while the jealous, betrayed Jacqueline has become their stalker. She’s toting a .22 caliber handgun, along with an ace motivation for murder.

I won’t reveal who gets killed, but the fact that we actively miss that person works for the movie. So does Hammer’s performance as the wily, arrogant, exceedingly tan Simon — the actor’s presence in the film, after accusations of abuse were leveled against him, has been considered problematic, but it must be said that he pops onscreen more than most of the other actors.

Branagh updates details like some telltale red paint, but he keeps the original story intact. “Death on the Nile” lopes along pleasantly enough, feeding on Poirot’s prickly drive to solve the mystery. In one interrogation, he gets seriously addled, a sign that Branagh wants us to take the detective’s obsessiveness seriously. The other sign is that he’s given Poirot a melancholy romantic subplot, which may be asking us to take him a little too  seriously.

The plot touches on such detours as a Tiffany necklace worthy of Liz Taylor and a blue-suited doctor with jealousy issues of his own, though he’s so stoic about it that you may do a triple take when you realize the actor playing him is Russell Brand. It all comes together in the scene where Poirot gathers the suspects and solves the crime. For about 10 minutes, the movie take wing, which is what you want from an Agatha Christie movie. Then again, the scene may remind you that there’s a movie not  based on Agatha Christie that so channels her spirit it’s effectively the best Christie film in half a century: “Knives Out.” “Death on the Nile,” decent as it is, can’t touch that film’s fusion of wit, excitement, and old-school whodunit glee. That’s not really a knock on Branagh. It’s just that once you’ve experienced Agatha Christie 2.0, it’s hard to go back.

Reviewed at AMC Lincoln Square, New York, Jan. 25, 2022. MPAA Rating: PG-13. Running time: 127 MIN.

• Production: A 20th Century Studios release of a TSG Entertainment, Kinberg Genre, Scott Free Productions, The Mark Gordon Company production. Producers: Ridley Scott, Kevin J. Walsh, Kenneth Branagh, Judy Hofflund. Executive producers: Mark Gordon, Simon Kinberg, Matthew Jenkins, James Prichard, Matthew Prichard.
• Crew: Director: Kenneth Branagh. Screenplay: Michael Green. Camera: Haris Zambarloukos. Editor: Úna Ni Dhonghaíle. Music: Patrick Doyle.
• With: Kenneth Branagh, Gal Gadot, Armie Hammer, Emma Mackey, Annette Bening, Tom Bateman, Ali Fazal, Russell Brand, Sophie Okonedo, Letitia Wright, Dawn French.

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Kenneth branagh’s ‘death on the nile’: film review.

The director returns as Hercule Poirot, following 'Murder on the Orient Express' in his second lavish remake of an Agatha Christie mystery, this time co-starring Gal Gadot, Armie Hammer and newcomer Emma Mackey.

By David Rooney

David Rooney

Chief Film Critic

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One of the most frequent questions asked by critics of Kenneth Branagh ’s 2017 Murder on the Orient Express remake was “Why?” While the Agatha Christie adaptation approximated the grandeur and opulence of Sidney Lumet’s all-star 1974 original with a classicist’s reverence, the excitement and intrigue of watching a stellar cast dressed in dazzling 1930s finery as a killer steadily thins their ranks was muted by synthetic CG-heavy visuals and the intrusive self-infatuation of Branagh as ingenious Belgian sleuth Hercule Poirot. Nevertheless, audiences didn’t seem to mind and the film made a whopping $352 million worldwide.

The good news about Branagh’s return to the Christie whodunit library with Death on the Nile is that although it’s no less fabricated in U.K. studios, this tragical mystery tour is more transporting. Positioning glamorously attired characters against the ancient pyramids of Giza, the colossal Ramses statues of Abu Simbel, or on the sweeping decks and in the swanky art deco salons of a luxury paddleboat steamer — and shooting, like the earlier film, in sumptuous 65mm — at the very least, is easy on the eyes.

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Release date : Friday, Feb. 11 Cast : Kenneth Branagh, Tom Bateman, Annette Bening, Russell Brand, Ali Fazal, Dawn French, Gal Gadot, Armie Hammer, Rose Leslie, Emma Mackey, Sophie Okonedo, Jennifer Saunders, Letitia Wright Director : Kenneth Branagh Screenwriter : Michael Green, based on the novel by Agatha Christie

Returning screenwriter Michael Green once again sacrifices much of the playful wit to spend time digging beneath the inscrutable surface of Poirot, starting with a black-and-white World War I prologue in which the young soldier’s powers of deduction save his regiment from near-certain death in a bridge maneuver. “You’re too smart to be a farmer,” Poirot’s captain tells him, before being blown to bits.

That loss, and the sad outcome of his great love of those years, fuel an undertow of melancholy in a figure more often played as aloof and spiky, though invariably likable. The death here of a character of whom he is quite fond adds further to the portrayal of a man of formidable intellect haunted by the crimes he encounters.

Whether you respond to the exposed emotional core behind the famous mustache — we also get the backstory behind that epically architectural facial hair — will depend on how you like your Poirot: brilliant, brittle and wryly detached or humanized by sorrow and, ugh, vulnerability. For some of us who look back with affection on John Guillermin’s lush 1978 screen version, there’s a nagging feeling throughout that Branagh, while hitting the marks of storytelling and design, has drained some of the fun out of it.

Poirot first encounters the three points of the fateful romantic triangle at the heart of this tale in a swinging London speakeasy in 1937. As the exacting epicure fusses over his dessert selection, he observes Jacqueline de Bellefort ( Emma Mackey ) being tossed around the dancefloor with unbridled passion by her “big, boyish and beautifully simple” fiancé Simon Doyle ( Armie Hammer ). But he also notes a bubble in the chemistry when Jacqui introduces Simon to her school chum Linnet Ridgeway ( Gal Gadot ), a stonking rich heiress who makes a knockout entrance, poured into a silver gown by costumer Paco Delgado that’s like liquid metal.

The featured act at the club is Salome Otterbourne (Sophie Okonedo), a guitar-playing singer of raw, bluesy jazz modeled on influential proto-rocker Sister Rosetta Tharpe, whose vocals are used throughout. Originally a romance novelist in the Christie novel and 1978 film (played in florid high-camp mode by Angela Lansbury), the reimagined Salome is one of screenwriter Green’s better innovations. The wonderful Okonedo plays her to the hilt, electrifying every scene in which she appears and injecting a flirtatious frisson into her exchanges with Poirot.

Salome, along with her whip-smart niece Rosalie ( Letitia Wright ), who manages her career, is also on hand six weeks later at Aswan’s ritzy Cataract Hotel, where Simon marries Linnet, having cast aside the significantly less well-heeled Jacqui.

That switch amusingly echoes a recollection of the two women’s schooldays, when Jacqui was downgraded from title role to handmaiden in a production of Antony and Cleopatra after Linnet showed up at rehearsals. The latter’s word-perfect recall of Shakespeare’s lines from the play indicates how accustomed Linnet is to playing the queen in any situation. Her wedding gift to herself of a glittering necklace of outsize rocks — an outrageous bit of Tiffany product placement — would be right at home in any collection of royal jewels.

Mirroring Gadot’s head-turning entrance from earlier, Jacqueline stuns the guests when she crashes the wedding reception in a stunning red and gold gown. Impressive newcomer Mackey (Netflix’s Sex Education ) departs from the 1978 model by making Jacqui more of a dangerous femme fatale than an unhinged hysteric, as Mia Farrow played her. Her uninvited presence, and the ornate 22 caliber pistol in her purse, make it a handy coincidence that Poirot happens to be vacationing there, too.

Where the new film pales next to its predecessor is in the assembled party that accompanies the newly-weds on a cruise down the Nile aboard the fabulously appointed S.S. Karnak. The characters could have used more detail; the same goes for the various motives — revenge, money, jealousy — that make all of them suspects as the corpses start piling up. Race and sexuality are also stirred into the mix, though too flimsily to add much.

Christie’s plots, full of byzantine twists and shock reveals, need to unfold like clockwork, with each of the players given a distinct role in the scenario; Green’s script too often feels rushed or vague in what should be key points. In that aspect, the 1978 film, whose screenwriter Anthony Schaffer had proven his skills with murderous puzzles on Sleuth , is superior. Not that the generations unfamiliar with that version will be bothered by unfavorable comparisons.

Among the characters assembled for the wedding and the troubled voyage that follows are Linnet’s maid Louise (Rose Leslie), whose employer played a role in dismantling her marriage prospects; aristocratic doctor Linus Windlesham (Russell Brand, playing it straight), who was once engaged to Linnet; the bride’s “Cousin” Andrew (Ali Fazal), longtime lawyer to the Ridgeway family; Linnet’s eccentric godmother Marie Van Schuyler (Jennifer Saunders), who spurns her wealth and privilege on political grounds; and her nurse and companion of 10 years, Bowers (Dawn French), whose reduced circumstances haven’t dulled her taste for the finer things.

Returning from Branagh’s Orient Expres s is Tom Bateman as Poirot’s charming right-hand man Bouc, whose marriage plans don’t sit well with his bohemian artist mother Euphemia. That newly created character is played with style and imperious attitude by Annette Bening , though she feels like an extraneous element dropped into the plot rather than an integral part of it.

Green’s script focuses so intently on Poirot and the trio at the center of the mystery that the ensemble lacks cohesion, many of them getting lost amid all the exotic locations — or production designer Jim Clay’s meticulous recreations of them. Only Salome and Rosalie register memorably, with Okonedo and Wright given some of the juiciest scenes. It’s a treat to see French and Saunders reunited, however, and even if no one could measure up to the delicious barbed bantering of Bette Davis and Maggie Smith in the 1978 version, the British comedy duo have a welcome flair with throwaway one-liners.

Of the principals, Branagh tempers his hammier instincts with tender, soulful notes that certainly offer a different point of view on the celebrated detective; Gadot’s Linnet is a soignée goddess who remains sympathetic despite her unchallenged ease and entitlement; Mackey deftly balances ostensibly wounded pride with ruthless resolve; and Hammer’s Simon is suitably dashing though clearly outclassed in intelligence by the two rivals for his love.

The sexual assault allegations against Hammer have caused much nail-biting at Disney, with repeat shifts in the release date; while he was almost invisible in the trailer, there’s no sign of his role being downsized in the final cut.

The film is satisfying enough, though more so as glossy, old-school entertainment than diabolically clever mystery. In gorgeous widescreen compositions, cinematographer Haris Zambarloukas’ camera prowls the elegant interiors and magnificent Egyptian settings with a needling purpose too often absent in plotting that should be tighter, more precision-tooled. Branagh tosses in an unsubtle metaphor for the foul deeds to come by showing a crocodile leaping from the waters to snap its jaws shut on a bird on the banks of the Nile. But this remake, despite its many pleasures, doesn’t operate with quite the same merciless bite.

Full credits

Distributor: Disney Production companies: Kinberg Genre, Mark Gordon Pictures, Scott Free Cast: Kenneth Branagh, Tom Bateman, Annette Bening, Russell Brand, Ali Fazal, Dawn French, Gal Gadot, Armie Hammer, Rose Leslie, Emma Mackey, Sophie Okonedo, Jennifer Saunders, Letitia Wright Director: Kenneth Branagh Screenwriter: Michael Green, based on the novel by Agatha Christie Producers: Ridley Scott, Kevin J. Walsh, Kenneth Branagh, Judy Hofflund Executive producers: Mark Gordon, Simon Kinberg, Matthew Jenkins, James Prichard, Matthew Prichard Director of photography: Haris Zambarloukas Production designer: Jim Clay Costume designer: Paco Delgado Music: Patrick Doyle Editor: Úna Ní Dhonghaíle Visual effects supervisor: George Murphy Casting: Lucy Bevan

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