A Haunting In Venice

I looked forward to a pleasant soiree with Poirot…this time in post-war Venice on Halloween. First off, fedora’s tipped to the cinematographer, Haris Zambarloukos, the Art directors and design teams, because without doubt they steal the show. You WILL enjoy the visuals!
Kenneth Branagh leads as both director and Poirot; his characterization, this time round, is more composed than either Death On The Nile or Murder On The Orient Express, one noted then, that a waxed moustache did not a persona make. “There is no God,” declares Poirot, which heralds a theme questioning the existence of God, the afterlife, the soul – and the spirits of the dead.
The plot revolves around the haunting of a young girl set in a sinister, decaying Palazzo. Naturally, there’s a storm brewing, the candles are on and the phone lines are down… A la Agatha Christie, we get to know the all-sorted suspects and on motley cue – another mysterious murder.
The film’s supporting cast turn in a solid job, particularly Michelle Yeoh as the psychic Mrs Roberts. Likewise, the attractive  bodyguard and ex Polizia, Ricardio Dario Scamarcio and the bereaved ex, Kyle Allen. The superstitious housekeeper, Olga is credibly played by Camille Cotton, but I couldn’t work out if her nose was the result of a prosthetic or bad make-up, was I the only one?
The performances of Jamie Dornan and Jude Hill playing father and son, (the Ferriers) as well as Tina Fey’s Ariadne Oliver border on the irritating, and frankly, one loses interest in their  simpering several minutes in.
Emma Laird and Ali Khan are badly miscast as refugee siblings who mostly look like they’ve wandered into the wrong film, in the wrong era.
The script and production are competent and perhaps this darker adaptation applaudable; but it wasn’t fun. The ghostly-warblings, sightings in mirrors and smashed housewares were a tad predictable; genre-wise they came at the cost of humour and wit – save for the good teacup gag at the end.
No doubt we’ll see more from the Agatha franchise – notwithstanding material from the “official continuation” novels written after the writer’s death. Truth to tell, when the final scenes (and daylight) rolled in, I was relieved to leave the cinema.
Rating:    A visual feast for “Ze little grey cells” –  not so much ze rest of the film, non?