A Haunting in Venice is the latest in Kenneth Branagh's adventures with Hercule Poirot, a series with decidedly mixed success so far. Following in the footsteps of the glitzy if unsubstantial Murder on the Orient Express and the terribly ill-fated Death on the Nile, A Haunting in Venice looks to adapt a lesser known Agatha Christie text, 'Hallowe'en Party', to scare up stronger results.
A retired Hercule Poirot, living in a self-imposed exile, is lured to a Halloween party by a friend and becomes witness to a seance. When one of the guests ends up dead as the clock strikes midnight, Poirot has no choice but to investigate a world full of secrets and shadows in which he is unable to fully trust everything he sees - or thinks he sees. Branagh returns in A Haunting in Venice, but it surrounded by an entirely new cast, featuring Tina Fey, Jamie Dornan, Michelle Yeoh and Kelly Reilly.
A considerable shift in tone, you wouldn't be amiss for double-taking A Haunting in Venice as another Branagh-Poirot film; in fact, if it wasn't for his presence, it could be entirely detached from the glamour that has proceeded it. Ditching the artifice for atmosphere, Haunting is a more sombre and reflective affair that scales back on the pomp and ceremony of Orient Express and Nile in favour of a psychological thriller that reckons with edgier themes and takes greater artistic risks.
A visually stunning and beautifully staged mystery, Branagh's direction, matched with Haris Zambarloukos's cinematography is a match made in haunted heaven. Tilted camera angles and striking imagery are designed to discomfort, with the impeccable art direction crafting an evocative, creepy environment for the mystery to unfold. Venice is a wonderful canvas, with the city's rich and impressive natural architecture mined to superb effect, but props must be handed to Branagh's for skilfully cultivating the ambiance crucial in delivering a mystery of such spooky proportions.
It's ironic that Branagh's direction is so characterful, when it is the characters that let A Haunting in Venice down. The central mystery itself isn't the strongest, but there are traces of smart thinking and compelling storytelling featured throughout - but the underdeveloped individuals populating the tale are the film's most glaring weakness. Michael Green's screenplay supposedly takes some narrative diversion from its source material, yet it is disappointing that he did not feel the need to enrich intentions and backstories of its characters in a way to enhance the social themes and group dynamics so important for a satisfying murder mystery.
In spite of this, the cast do a uniformly solid job as an ensemble. While not without the wry humour Branagh's Poirot has become known for, there's a deeper introspection to his portrayal this time out, more in-keeping with the world-weary detective we meet at the film's open that provides the film with an edge of its predecessor; this is the first time it really feels like Branagh has established his interpretation of Poirot as one of the detective’s more definitive screen appearances, and it will be worthwhile seeing where the character evolves from here. Jamie Dornan's troubled performance is contrasted wisely against his on-screen son's Jude Hill's more mature turn, while Michelle Yeoh taps into a playfulness that keeps her character's true intentions guarded to ensure the guessing game is sustained. Tina Fey offers some often-needed levity as a quippy author with suspicious motives.
A Haunting in Venice won't register on any best-of-the-year lists and will not reinvent the genre wheel, but as an entertaining slice of cinema as the nights draw darker, it ably hits the spot. It learns from the mistakes of its predecessors and scales back in a bid to find a richer sense of self, providing the strongest entry in the Kenneth Branagh-speared Poirot screen universe. A suitably chilly, stunningly-staged feature seeped in atmosphere, A Haunting In Venice is a decent addition to the continued renaissance of the whodunnit.