Death on the Nile (2022)

 We open in the trenches of Belgium. World War I. 1914. The start of the war. As it turns out Hercule Poirot, before becoming a world-famous sleuth full of eccentricities and vagaries, was a  young man, a humble farmer turned soldier on the Western Front. A soldier who has a captain -- and this captain, who will perish within the first five minutes, bears a dramatic mustache. Poirot ingeniously strategizes how they will take the bridge, and they do--but the Captain perishes. This death it seems is meant to account for the persona our detective comes to be known by -- elaborate coping mechanisms for a world where young men are sent to their certain death by leaders who will never know sacrifice; a world where ignorant armies clash by night; and a world where good men, who represent bravery and justice, die. 

Had this scene been the entire movie, we’d have little to complain about. We’d have a thought-provoking minor masterpiece. However, no, there is a bizarrely awful movie to follow. (If you have a chance, skip Death on the Nile and watch Branaugh’s other 2022 film, also shot in black and white, Belfast.) 

But, if, like me, you have a thing for tripe, plop down $6.99 for Death on the Nile, sit back, and get ready to be confused, mildly irritated, and dispassionate. 

The first irritation: Branaugh’s mustache. It’s reminiscent of the furry creature that once ran out of the bottom of my grandfather’s organ when my sister and I were carrying it up from the basement to the garage. I will tell you this. That thing had critters clinging on its back and went scurrying out of the pedal and across the living room floor and I don’t know if it made it out of the house or has set up shop somewhere, but I do know my sister and I used a leaf blower, sticks, and ice-cold fear to beg it to return to the woodland from whence it came.

The second irritation: Armie Hammer. AKA Simon Doyle. We all know he has deep, deep, DEEP problems. Why didn’t they CGI him out of the film? Or put literally any other actor’s visage on his body. I’d have been less bothered if SpongeBob was hovering over him from beginning to end. 

The third irritation: the actors’ budget accents. Lots of decent actors in this film adopt an accent. And they sound bad. Like, weird bad. Like the kind of accent I do when no one is home, bad. 

The plot of Death on the Nile is pretty standard Agatha Christie. We are presented with a love story, a complex one that exposes the realities of social and economic class. Two young, beautiful women are friends. One is rather poor, but not destitute. One is wealthy beyond all imagination. Boyfriend and Poor Girl are in love, but a bit tight. Poor Girl appeals to Rich Girl. Rich Girl -- Linnet -- agrees to help -- but there’s a catch -- she’s going to end up stealing the guy. 

This scene is shot in a highly annoying, horribly costumed, horrifically choreographed, hilariously lame dance sequence that I might have actually played out with my Barbies thirty years ago in the privacy of my parents’ basement. (God, it’s awful.)

The Happy Couple, Gal Gadot/Linnet and Armie Hammer/Simon, honeymoon in Egypt. They traipse around the ruins, and we meet the suspects (the Otterbournes, Cousin Andrew, Louise the maid, Dr. Windlesham, and all of them -- in this version -- are so forgettable and ill-defined that they don’t bear mentioning further. Hercule Poirot is on holiday in Egypt when he’s coaxed into joining the wedding party, and this is good because the ex-girlfriend -- Jackie -- has followed them and is ready to make this honeymoon interesting. 

They board a riverboat, set sail for Karnak (maybe, I don’t know, actually) and pretty soon: Linnet is found murdered. (Then other people are murdered, but you don't care, which is problem.)

If you want to see a good version of this iconic story, you have two very good options. One is the original with Mia Farrow as poor girlfriend. The other is David Suchet version featuring Emily Blunt as Linnet. Both these renderings are true to the tale, no needless backstory (thank the gods) and fully realized contributing characters -- so you actually are tempted to follow the red herrings and tumble down slippery slopes and feel real surprise when the murderer is revealed. 

I’ll add two things. There is a scene where the positively stunning Gal Gadot, festooned as Cleopatra speaks the line “I have immortal longings in me.” And she speaks like a bored stripper (no shade) that knows she’s getting paid anyway. Please understand, that's a high compliment. And to show I harbor nothing but love for Gal, I present my favorite look of hers -- I have immortal longings for this outfit. Cheers. xo