A Haunting in Venice

Grade: C+

The marketing for A Haunting in Venice is very clever. The trailer that was shown most of the time made it look like straight-up horror. It’s actually a spooky murder mystery, based on Agatha Christie’s book “Hallowe’en Party.” As a movie, it keeps almost succeeding, then doesn’t. It’s boring and wordy.

Kenneth Branagh once again directs and stars. He is Detective Hercule Poirot, coaxed out of retirement by his American novelist friend Ariadne Oliver (a wonderful Tina Fey, in a stroke of inspired casting). It’s Halloween night, and Fey invites Branagh to a seance in the apartment of a woman whose daughter mysteriously died recently. Fey’s character hasn’t written much lately, and is hoping all of this – enhanced by Branagh’s presence – will drum up some inspiration.

So many shots are filmed as if you’re looking through a hotel door peephole. There’s a disorienting roundness and largeness to them, and I wasn’t sure where I should be putting my focus. The cinematography is strong, and the ensemble does what they can with a dull-as-dishwasher script. Michelle Yeoh, Kelly Reilly (Flight), Jude Hill (the little boy from Branagh’s Belfast), and Fey are the highlights. The sets and atmosphere are effective, but not enough to sustain a movie.

When Branagh’s character figures out whodunit and why, he delivers the most long-winded “explanation” monologue I’ve ever seen. I think even Daniel Craig’s Benoit Blanc would be like “Dude! Can we wrap this up?” The film seems to be for a very specific audience, and there’s not enough energy to propel it into anything truly entertaining. Italy is filmed beautifully, and I stayed to savor the final shot until it finally faded into the usual white-on-black end credits. Otherwise, unfortunately, A Haunting in Venice is more like Gosford Park and See How They Run, and not enough like Knives Out and Glass Onion.

Grade: C+