A Haunting In Venice

Kenneth Branagh’s third foray into Agatha Christie territory doesn’t have the handicap of previous all-star movie adaptations to be compared with. This has enabled him to make savings with a slightly B-list cast (no disrespect intended). And, by taking one of the less well-known Poirot cases as its core, Branagh is able to put more of his own stamp on the project. This is not such a “sacred text” as Death on the Nile and Orient Express.

Sorry to say, these factors have not proved advantageous. A Haunting in Venice seems rather under-scripted and under-played. A séance in a decaying palace in Venice ends in a murder, with all those present anxious to prevent the medium (Michelle Yeoh, miscast but on fine form) revealing their secrets. There’s not enough back-story to establish character and motives. Even Poirot (Branagh) is a bit flat this time. Jude Hill as a precocious schoolboy steals the acting honours with a performance possibly inspired by Paul Dano.

The cinematography lavishly evokes a dark mysterious Venice redolent of Don’t Look Now. Unfortunately, murkiness overwhelms too many of the interior scenes, heightening confusion rather than tension for at least one viewer. Maybe Mr Branagh should invest his considerable talent in revisiting a different 20^th-century author: is Anthony Powell due for a revamp?