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He takes Agatha Christies little-discussed 1969 novelHalloween Partyand turns it into a moody, staccato thriller about the unknown.
Branagh and screenwriter Michael Green have taken quite a few liberties with Christies original.
But on a thematic level, it also makes Poirot more intriguing.
If there is a ghost, there is a soul, he says.
If there is a soul, there is a god who made it.
(Im not giving anything away here were still in the set-up.)
But then the fun starts.
Uncovering Ms. Reynoldss ruse, it appears, does not stop the many bizarre occurrences in this place.
Nor does it stop the grisly, unexplained killings.
They do something similar here.
Branagh also plays with the rhythm, using pace and composition to set us ill at ease.
Vast stretches of darkness in the frame are cut through with shocks of color.
At one point, he body-mounts the camera on himself and then follows Poirot into a darkened chamber.
And it succeeds more often than not.
One wide angle of a dead characters room looks like the ceiling is slowly taking over the walls.
Shadowy figures statues, sculptures, lamps?
loom in backgrounds, sometimes draped in ominous sheets, peering through the darkness like ghosts.
Film series, especially moderately successful ones, rarely get more interesting or inventive as they proceed.
I hope he makes ten more of these.
