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OnMetacritic the film has a weighted average score of 52 out of 100, based on 46 critics, indicating "mixed or average reviews". [35] Audiences polled by CinemaScore gave the film an average grade of "B" on an A+ to F scale. [32]
TRAILER 139 TRAILER 203 Play all videos What to know Stylish production and an all-star ensemble keep this Murder on the Orient Express from running off the rails, even if it never quite builds up to its classic predecessor's illustrious head of steam. Read critic reviews Rent/buy Rent/buy Buy Murder on the Orient Express videos Murder on the Orient Express B-Roll 1 BEHIND THE SCENES 649 Murder on the Orient Express B-Roll 2 BEHIND THE SCENES 523 Murder on the Orient Express Exclusive Josh Gad Interview 234 Murder on the Orient Express Trailer 2 TRAILER 139 Murder on the Orient Express Trailer 1 TRAILER 203 Murder on the Orient Express Photos Movie Info A lavish trip through Europe quickly unfolds into a race against time to solve a murder aboard a train. When an avalanche stops the Orient Express dead in its tracks, the world's greatest detective - Hercule Poirot - arrives to interrogate all passengers and search for clues before the killer can strike again. Rating PG-13 Violence and Thematic Elements Genre Mystery & thriller, Crime, Drama Original Language English Director Kenneth Branagh Producer Mark Gordon, Simon Kinberg, Kenneth Branagh, Judy Hofflund, Michael Schaefer, Ridley Scott Writer Michael Green Release Date Theaters Nov 10, 2017 wide Release Date Streaming Feb 27, 2018 Box Office Gross USA $ Runtime 1h 54m Distributor 20th Century Fox Production Co Scott Free Productions, The Mark Gordon Company, Kinberg Genre Sound Mix Dolby Atmos Aspect Ratio Scope Cast & Crew News & Interviews for Murder on the Orient Express Critic Reviews for Murder on the Orient Express Audience Reviews for Murder on the Orient Express Sep 03, 2020 Murder on the Orient Express had all the ingredients for a modern ensemble classic but it struggles in the end. The key issue is the lack of characteristics and most are left with one dimensional roles. You can't say Kenneth Branagh is out of his element as the film-maker has made large ensemble films like Hamlet. The issue I felt was the tone and pacing of the film. The characters don't grab you and the murder mystery is secondary to the larger story. I've found Branagh's films have struggled with the jump to larger studio films. There are obviously length restrictions and keeping this film at such a short running time was a disservice to the novel. This had a large cast and the potential to dig into the novel a little better than the previous film adaptation. Sidney Lumet's version is still my preferred but I enjoyed the chance to see the film again with modern actors. The premise was a little underdeveloped and the twists came and went. There was potential here but sadly it didn't click with me. 04/09/2020 Sep 18, 2018 The beginning of the film is perfect, an exotic location, a neat little introduction to the character, the sequences conjures up images of the great adventures of Lawrence of Arabia or even Indy Jones. Then we are getting on the train. The cast is amazing, of course, so is the narrow setting of the train and cinematography. Once Poirot starts investigating, things flow rather perfectly too. What's missing is a major shock or twist, at least if you're somewhat familiar with the story. They did a little action sequence here or there, but in the end the result is entertaining but a bit underwhelming. Super Reviewer Jun 13, 2018 Held onto the rails by visually stunning direction, effective performance from Branagh and cast, Murder on the Orient Express provides a solid pay-off even if its second act will have you thinking of the destination and not the journey. 3/5 Super Reviewer Mar 07, 2018 The 1974 adaptation of Christie's novel is flawed but at least it had Sydney Lumet as a director. Branagh can't juggle the massive ensemble or figure out how to effectively use the large budget at his disposal. Super Reviewer
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I know. I KNOW. Ever since seeing the trailer for the mystery thriller “Murder on the Orient Express,” a question has been nagging at you. It’s not who among a diverse array of actors including Judi Dench as a Russian princess, Willem Dafoe as a German professor, Penelope Cruz as a depressed missionary and Johnny Depp as a thuggish art dealer, is the killer. But why has a small furry mammal disguised as a magnificent beast of a handlebar mustache in 50 shades of silvery gray taken up residence under Kenneth Branagh’s nose? The hair apparent seems specifically designed to practically steal every scene it appears in during this sumptuous yet ultimately stuffy and overstuffed big-screen return visit to Agatha Christie’s most durable novel. It's even responsible for the film’s best sight gag. If Branagh, the star and director behind the 21st-century digitally-enhanced stab at bringing this ensemble vehicle back to life wanted to make a statement to distinguish this take on his world-famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot from any other, he certainly has. In the 1974 movie adaptation helmed by Sidney Lumet, Albert Finney sported a pert black swatch with Dali-esque twirls at the ends. Boring, right? Branagh’s fuzzy wuzzy is like an ocean wave of whiskers, from ear to shining ear. Best supporting player? That honor goes to that dashing splash of a soul patch on his chin. OK, I am stalling. Let’s accentuate the positive first. The script by Michael Green “Blade Runner 2049” does a bang-up job of introducing us to Poirot, a fuss-budget stickler who demands perfectly cooked four-minute eggs and tsk-tsks their imperfect dimensions—and then doesn’t even bother to eat them. He is a control freak who insists on balance in everything, from how a tie sits around a man’s neck to impeccably baked bread. The place is Jerusalem actually, Malta as a stand-in and the year is 1934. Poirot is at the Wailing Wall about to deliver the solution to a crime tied to three clerics of different faiths and a stolen artifact. With the showbiz panache of a Vegas magician, he reveals the perpetrator with an unexpected flourish involving a cane. That sends the message, “Hey, this could be fun.” But matters get perfunctory rather quickly when fellow passengers whose baggage clearly includes secrets begin to pop up, including Daisy Ridley Rey in “Star Wars The Force Awakens” as a porcelain-skinned governess and Leslie Odom Jr. Aaron Burr in Broadway’s “Hamilton” as a doctor who attempt to disguise they are an interracial couple. Those marquee credits are bound to draw in the under-30 demographic. But, alas, the only fully fleshed-out being turns out to be Poirot, who moons over a portrait of a lost love and undergoes an existential crisis of sorts when he finds himself unexpectedly confounded when a dead body turns up on the train with an even dozen stab wounds. The luxury locomotive traveling from Istanbul to Calais also comes to a halt about a half-hour in when an avalanche causes it to stop in its tracks atop a dangerous trestle. I wish I could say that the storyline at least picks up steam, but it never quite does especially since it devolves into a series of private interrogations by the imperious Poirot in a café car. Michelle Pfeiffer does what she can as a man-hungry rich widow searching for her next husband. Derek Jacobi and Josh Gad conspire as a valet and assistant to Depp’s scar-faced hoodlum. Other performers barely have the presence or enough dialogue to make much of an impression including the incredibly talented Olivia Colman as Dench’s lady in waiting. In addition, there are veiled allusions to the 1932 kidnapping of aviator Charles Lindbergh’s baby son, which few besides history buffs will recognize today. Branagh, the actor, comes through unscathed. Branagh, the director, not so much. He did wonders with making Shakespeare relevant for young audiences with his “Henry V” and found a way to make Disney’s live-action “Cinderella” seem fresh and new. But despite camera trickery with ineffective overhead shots and a long one-take scene as Poirot boards the moving train, there is too little levity and cleverness afoot, especially with a cast whose talent is barely tapped. The key isn’t whodunit but how you do it. However, that mustache—which even grows limp and messy when matters get dicey for Poirot—deserves a place in the pantheon of great follicle-ly enhanced performances. Perhaps it could sit alongside George Clooney’s waxed-to-perfection facial accoutrement in “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” As for “Murder on the Orient Express,” it squeaks by as passable entertainment by just a hair. Susan Wloszczyna Susan Wloszczyna spent much of her nearly thirty years at USA TODAY as a senior entertainment reporter. Now unchained from the grind of daily journalism, she is ready to view the world of movies with fresh eyes. Now playing Film Credits Murder on the Orient Express 2017 114 minutes Latest blog posts about 1 hour ago about 4 hours ago about 5 hours ago 1 day ago Comments
Ifall of this interest means you missed out on getting a seat to watch your ideal screening, here are alternative ways you can catch Murder on the Orient Express. Watch Here: Murder on the Orient Express (2017) Full Movie Online Free Murder on the Orient Express Release Date Click here to watch Murder on the Orient Express streaming online
The director and star Kenneth Branagh’s remake looks great but feels utterly Branagh in Murder on the Orient Express 20th Century FoxIn cinema, as elsewhere, there can be too much of a good thing. Quick Do you remember the film several years back that starred Judi Dench, Penélope Cruz, Daniel Day-Lewis, Marion Cotillard, and Nicole Kidman, among others? If you recall that it was Nine, the director Rob Marshall’s musical follow-up to his Academy Award–winning Chicago, well good on you. I can scarcely summon any memory of the film ReadingThe director Kenneth Branagh’s remake of Murder on the Orient Express labors under the same delusion that cinematic quality is arithmetical Dench and Cruz are both here again, as are Branagh himself, Michelle Pfeiffer, Johnny Depp, Daisy Ridley, Josh Gad, Derek Jacobi, and God knows how many others who are currently skipping my mind. If movies truly were math, this would be a they aren’t, and it’s not. Branagh’s retelling of the classic Agatha Christie tale is visually sumptuous yet otherwise inert, a series of what are essentially cameos by performers far too gifted to waste their time like this. There should be a law against casting Judi Dench in a film and then giving her virtually nothing to plot is familiar, even to those who have neither read the novel nor seen Sidney Lumet’s famous 1974 adaptation starring Albert Finney The year is 1935, and 13 apparent strangers are sharing a carriage on a train from Istanbul to Calais. One of them is murdered in his cabin with a dozen stab wounds, and the rest are trapped on the train by a snowdrift that has blocked the tracks. Who among them is the killer? Fortunately, among them is also Hercule Poirot Branagh, and he will solve the mystery because that is what he movie opens with an introductory scene in which Poirot is called upon to solve a mystery involving a priest, a rabbi, an imam—yes, the requisite “walk into a bar” joke is made—and the theft of a sacred relic. In the process, we are introduced to the idea of Hercule Poirot, inveterate perfectionist He carefully measures his two boiled eggs to ensure they are the same size; having stepped in a dung patty with one foot, he carefully places the other foot in it as well to preserve “balance” in the philosophical rather than ambulatory sense. Asked how it is he is able to deduce even the most hidden truths, he replies, “I can only see the world as it should be. And when it is not, imperfection stands out like the nose on a face.”The film is a reasonably faithful adaptation of the novel, and some of its variations are improvements. Two characters—a doctor and a soldier—are usefully melded into one, and a secondary stabbing is introduced to good effect. Other alterations, alas, seem more like concessions to the temper of the times a chase through the trestles of an alpine bridge; a fight and gunshot wound; a pointless backstory about Poirot’s lost love; and an extended bout of moral handwringing once the mystery has been the most dispiriting way in which the film diverges from its source material is in the person of Poirot himself. Christie’s Poirot was a somewhat comical figure, a short man five-foot-four, to be precise with a head “exactly the shape of an egg,” and a meticulously waxed mustache that curved up into two points. Branagh’s Poirot keeps the mustache—indeed, pushes it beyond absurdity, now curling up into six points—but otherwise he looks pretty much like movie-star Kenneth Branagh. He’s adopted the habit, a la Sherlock Holmes, of wowing strangers by intuiting their origins and professions on the basis of minute physical details. And, also like Holmes, he’s become adept at physical flatly heroic portrayal of Christie’s odd little Belgian detective might be less annoying if it didn’t smack of directorial vanity on Branagh’s part. So, too, might the fact that Branagh accords himself more screen time than all his illustrious costars combined. This latter defect would arguably be hard to avoid Finney, too, dominated the all-star cast of the 1974 version, even if Ingrid Bergman walked away with a thoroughly unearned Oscar for supporting actress. Is this unfair to Branagh? Perhaps. But it is the tightrope to be walked in self-directed star turns in movies that aim to be on the Orient Express is not a bad movie per se, merely one that feels self-indulgent and thoroughly unnecessary. Or perhaps it’s just me I can only see the movie as it should have been. And when it’s not, its imperfections stick out like the nose above a six-point mustache.
Bestepisodes ranked by Podyssey's 20,000 community members. 1) Agatha Christie, She Watched Ep8 “The Hollow” (2004)
A movie about how much of a royal pain in the ass it was to kill someone before civilians had easy access to AR-15s, Kenneth Branagh’s “Murder on the Orient Express” is an undercooked Christmas ham of a movie, the kind of flamboyant holiday feast that Hollywood doesn’t really serve anymore. Arrestingly sumptuous from the very first shot and filmed in glorious 65mm, this cozy new riff on Agatha Christie’s classic mystery is such an old-fashioned yarn that it could have been made back in 1934 if not for all the terrible CGI snow and a late-career, post-disgrace Johnny Depp performance that reeks of 21st century fatigue. Indeed, it’s hard to overstate just how refreshing it feels to see a snug, gilded piece of studio entertainment that doesn’t involve any spandex. Or, more accurately, how refreshing it would have felt had Branagh understood why Christie’s story has stood the test of time. You know the plot, even if you’ve forgotten the twist. The world is between wars, winter is settling in, and famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot Branagh is being summoned back to Britain for his next case. The fastest way there The Orient Express, one of those first class sleeper that America dumped in favor of Amtrak. A gilded mahogany serpent so refined that passengers are inspired to wear tuxedos to the dining car and directors are inspired to weave through the cabins in elegant tracking shots that bring us right on board, the Orient Express is an exclusive experience for a certain class of people. The paying customers on this particular trip naturally resemble a game of “Clue.” There’s a thirsty heiress Michelle Pfeiffer, a missionary Penélope Cruz, a plainclothes Nazi Willem Dafoe, a smattering of royalty that ranges in age from Judi Dench to “Sing Street” breakout Lucy Boynton, a governess Daisy Ridley, holding her own without a lightsaber in her hands, and the man she loves in secret “Hamilton” MVP Leslie Odom Jr., a movie star in the making. There’s also Depp’s crooked art dealer — the eventual corpse — and Josh Gad as his right-hand man; the cast is so deep that Derek Jacobi barely rates a mention. But one star forces the others into his orbit, and that is Branagh himself. Poirot has always been the engine for Christie’s mysteries, and not their fuel, but Branagh’s version doesn’t see things that way. In this script, penned by “Blade Runner 2049” screenwriter Michael Green, Poirot is always the top priority. From the stilted prologue in which the great detective is introduced with an undue degree of suspense, to the nauseating farewell that inevitably teases a Hercule Poirot Cinematic Universe, Branagh’s take on the character is lodged somewhere between a Shakespearian fool and a superhero. Filtered through a Pepé Le Pew accent that stinks from start to finish, he’s a walking spotlight in a film that feels like a Broadway revival, a live-action cartoon who’s more mustache than man. Branagh chews a dangerous amount of scenery for such a confined set, but the real problem is what the film has to do in order to justify his exaggerated presence It has to give Poirot an arc. Once the train derails on a rickety wooden bridge and Depp winds up dead in his cabin, the story should shift into mystery mode, with Poirot instigating our own imaginations. Here, however, Branagh blocks us out. What Christie learned from the likes of Arthur Conan Doyle is that geniuses are only believable if they’re actually geniuses — detective stories don’t work if they hinge on their protagonists sleuthing out something that a child could see for themselves. That’s true of the mysteries, and it’s true of their solutions. Poirot is supposed to be a genius, but here he’s an idiot savant. “There is right and there is wrong,” he declares early on, “and there is nothing in between.” “Murder on the Orient Express” You’d think, after solving however many cases, that he might have figured that out by now. But no, Poirot is obsessed with balance and restoring order to the world. The eggs he eats for breakfast have to be the same size. After accidentally stepping in horse poop with one shoe, he deliberately steps into it with the other. In a movie shot from so many dutch angles that the screen starts to seem tilted, Poirot is the only person who doesn’t recognize that the world isn’t flat, and that morality can never be perfectly measured. It’s agonizing to watch the brilliant detective work out such a simple concept, Branagh’s film growing long in the tooth even though it’s selling itself short. “Murder on the Orient Express” is a creaky whodunnit in this day and age, and there’s not much that Branagh can or chooses to do about that without disrespecting the source material. His well-meaning but half-assed reach for relevance involves a certain degree of wokeness, this version highlighting the pluralism of Christie’s original in its backhanded celebration of American diversity, its conclusion that any true melting pot is sustained by fostering a mutual desire for justice. Race comes to the fore, with Odom inhabiting a role that was once played by Sean Connery. Interesting things percolate under the surface, as all of the passengers are traveling with a lot of baggage. But the movie only cares about the suspects for as long as they’re sharing the screen with Poirot. Even Pfeiffer’s big moment is relegated to the end credits, where she can be heard singing a love ballad called “Never Forget.” Like everything else here, it’s hard to remember. A handsomely furnished holiday movie that should have devoted more attention to its many ornaments and less to the tinsel at the top, this “Murder on the Orient Express” loses steam as soon as it leaves the station. Grade C “Murder on the Orient Express” opens in theaters on Friday, November 10. Sign Up Stay on top of the latest breaking film and TV news! Sign up for our Email Newsletters here.
Andhis journey on the most (in)famous rail line in movie history features the most impressive of passenger manifests. Only a lack of space in
The word “sheer” is missing from the beginning of the title. Like a dusty and long-locked display room in Madame Tussauds, this movie showcases an all-star cast in period costume, each of whom must suppress his or her star quality in the cause of being part of an all-star cast. It is a new version of Agatha Christie’s 1934 detective mystery, one of her most ingenious, all about a grisly killing on board a train that is marooned in snow. The story arguably has something to say about the nature of guilt and the nature of authorship. Kenneth Branagh directs and plays the legendary Belgian sleuth Hercule Poirot with an unfeasibly large ’tache, accessorised with a demi-goatee beneath the lower lip and a pepper-and-salt colouring overall, like the hair of former ITV World of Sport presenter Dickie Davies. Poirot says things like “The keelaire eez meurking me!”The film’s old-fashioned luxury stylings pay homage to Sidney Lumet’s own A-lister-crammed version from 1974 – which had Albert Finney as a more dyspeptic and glowering Poirot – and the film seems to be testing the waters for a lucrative new Bond-style franchise, the next caper being Death on the Nile. This Murder on the Orient Express gives the story a slightly more modern perspective; some of the races are changed and the era’s attitudes challenged, although there is a smug gag about a cheery prostitute at the beginning that could come straight from the seedy-sophisticate 70s. Two characters oddly allude to an earnest argument they have supposedly had about “Stalinism” in which it is far from obvious who is for and who … Judi Dench, right, as a Russian princess and Olivia Colman as her maid. Photograph Allstar/20th Century FoxThis version also tries to open things out a little by creating some derring-do out there in the freezing snow, before people nip smartly back into the warm carriage. There’s some outrageous product placement for a certain brand of chocolate, prominently displayed, over which Poirot lingers to say “Ah leurve these leeteurl cecks!” However much they contributed to the production budget, it wasn’t enough.Poirot boards the renowned Orient Express in Istanbul, heading for Calais, and finds he is sharing it with a remarkable cross-section of American and European society – though, with only a dozen or so passengers, the real mystery is how the Orient Express stays solvent. There is the haughty and cantankerous White Russian Princess Dragomiroff Judi Dench and her submissive maid Hildegarde Schmidt Olivia Colman; demure governess Mary Debenham Daisy Ridley, who may have some connection with Dr Arbuthnot Leslie Odom Jr; sinister German academic Gerhard Hardman Willem Dafoe; a mousily religious Pilar Estravados Penélope Cruz; manhunting American widow Mrs Hubbard Michelle Pfeiffer; saturnine Russian dancer Count Andrenyi played by real-life ballet star Sergei Polunin and his troubled wife, Countess Andrenyi Lucy Boynton; and genial businessman Marquez Manuel Garcia-Rulfo. There is also a crooked American art dealer, Ratchett Johnny Depp, accompanied by his butler, Masterman Derek Jacobi, and private secretary, Hector MacQueen Josh Gad. One of these people is found murdered – subject to a frenzied a mouthwatering cast it looks. And yet, of all these characters, only one is given anything like the necessary space to live and breathe, and that is the malign, gravel-voiced Ratchett. He has an interestingly charged scene with Mrs Hubbard and a similarly fraught encounter with Poirot, in which he has the unthinkable bad taste to offer the great detective a … Johnny Depp as Ratchett, the crooked art dealer. Photograph Alamy Stock PhotoTellingly, these moments happen before the murder, the discovery of which is filmed in the most bafflingly indirect way. Branagh contrives a showy overhead shot of the tops of people’s heads as they break into the victim’s compartment and the shock factor of unveiling the bloody corpse is lost, with nothing much gained in terms of subtlety or indirect the murder is announced, the narrative clockwork is assumed to have been set in motion. And yet it is more like the victim’s pocket watch, which was smashed in the violence and ceased to work, thus giving Poirot a vital clue as to the time of death. Something about the story itself goes dead at that moment, reviving only with the big reveal at the end, for which Poirot assembles the suspects outside, all seated at some sort of last-supper trestle table. Carrying that thing around on the train must have been a pain, but at last it came in handy. This film never gets up a head of steam. This article was amended on 3 November to correct the title of Agatha Christie’s book Death on the Nile, which had been mistakenly referred to as Murder on the Nile
Review] Murder On The Orient Express (2017) (movieweb.com) Sesuai judulnya, tentu saja ada pembunuhan yang terjadi dalam kereta Orient Express yang terhalang timbunan salju. Korban, Ratchett (Johnny Depp), tewas dengan tikaman berkali-kali di seluruh tubuh. Detektif Poirot di film adalah seorang Belgia yang sopan dan elegan tapi narsis dan
murder on the orient express 2017 movie review
