‘Murder on the Orient Express’ Derails, Misses the Charm of a Great Whodunnit

Batman, Sherlock Holmes, and now Hercule Poirot can share the title of best detective in the world as the newest addition to the impossible-crime-solving trope brandishes his wit in Murder on the Orient Express, based on the original novel (and 1972 film). The film begins with the standard murder mystery fare: a set of circumstances bring several people together, and one of them is found dead. With no witness or motive the murderer is sure to go uncaught, except for the fortuitous misfortune of their crime crossing paths with a man, in this case played by Kenneth Branagh, keen in his attention to detail, whose quirk and intellect make him the only person on earth who can solve the crime. That’s Murder on the Orient Express and about every movie of the type you have seen, the crux of their enjoyment laying not in the plots themselves but the personal arc of the hero. Is it personal to our hero? Are their wits tested like never seen before? Will the outcome shake them to their core, reshaping what they thought they knew of the world? Can they be bested by a cleverer villain? In a plot-driven mystery the formula can be bested by the underlying hero’s journey, the connections an audience makes with the characters involved. Unfortunately for Murder on the Orient Express, the players involved are so many we fail at a significant connection with any of them; alas, with 12 suspects of the murder of a sleazebag, the film offers little to cheer for.

The story follows Hercule who, afte…