Gather 'round, kids, it's story time!
This essay contains spoilers. Be forewarned.
It's difficult to recall now how or when my taking in of Agatha Christie started.
Was it twelve-year-old me buying the movie tie-in novel of Murder on the Orient Express (with Richard Amsel's cover art) with The Cat Who Lived High at Nanaimo's Good Old Book Exchange in the Terminal Park strip mall? (That bookstore is now a Bulk Barn, incidentally.)
Or was it me, having been over my head in writing my own mystery books (and "books" is a generous term for stapled copy paper with no research or realism whatsoever), trying to take in whatever mystery movies I could find on TCM or PBS to supplement my constant viewings of Murder, She Wrote?
...
Now that I've thought further, it was probably all of the above.
Peter Ustinov as Hercule Poirot
Lois Chiles as Linnet Ridgeway
Simon ("Manimal!") MacCorkindale as Simon Doyle
Mia Farrow as Jacqueline de Bellefort
David Niven as Colonel Race
Bette Davis as Marie Van Schuyler
Maggie Smith as Miss Bowers
Jane Birkin as Louise Bourget
Jon Finch as James Ferguson
Angela Lansbury as Salome Otterbourne
Olivia Hussey as Rosalie Otterbourne
Jack Warden as Dr. Bessner,
fulfilling the genre's "wacky doctor who
may or may not believe in eugenics" quota.
George Kennedy as Andrew Pennington
In 2007, having caught Murder on the Orient Express on TCM earlier that year, I (like I often do nowadays) "cased out" Death on the Nile through reviews, images, and IMDB. (And yes, I often contributed to the latter's now-infamous message boards. The less we talk about that "Verily I say onto thee" guy, the better.)
At the time, I was lucky to find Anchor Bay's DVD release to rent, as much as its cover art (like many of their 2000s releases) left something to be desired, my guess being they didn't want to shell out for Richard Amsel's excellent U.S. poster art.
If you look at it close up, you'll too be wondering why
Hussey and Lansbury have brown eyes instead of blue.
Back then, it was difficult for me to properly articulate why DOTN didn't 100% gel the same way MOTOE (dramatically) and Evil Under the Sun (comedically) did. Perhaps at that time, the sadder, downbeat themes of the film's ending put a damper on the comedy and tone surrounding it. Was my hypothesis going to be proven right on my second viewing ten-plus years later?
Clearly, producers John Brabourne and Richard B. Goodwin strove to replicate the formula that made MOTOE the most successful British film at the time: An all-star cast, lavish locations, and Anthony Shaffer as a screenwriter.
Since we start with her from virtually the first scene, (well, confronted is too harsh a word, but) we're face-to-face with Lois Chiles, who certainly looks the part of Linnet, but whose line readings make her seem constantly annoyed than anything else. Unsurprisingly, she fares best as a "straight man" to Farrow, Davis, and Warden, where scenes often require her to be understandably angry.
Striking all the right tones, meanwhile, is Farrow's Jacqueline, DOTN's resident Prince Hamlet, toeing the line to insanity while driven by all-consuming revenge.
As much as I prefer her turn in Evil Under the Sun due to her increased screentime, Smith is wonderful here as the "photo in the dictionary, next to the word "uptight"" Miss Bowers. Her scenes with Davis can only be best described as "Minerva McGonagall's early years with Margo Channing".
Basically a fan of her since the womb, I get such a trip from Angela Lansbury in this. This second viewing basically convinced me that either Salome Otterbourne is drunk 100% of the time, or she really sounds like that even when stone-cold sober.
Despite what flaws there are in direction and editing (more on that below), DOTN's cast do excellent work and exhibit great chemistry overall.
SO, WHAT'S THE PROBLEM THEN?
Another goal not met by this adaptation is the greater thematic statement (the "something to say", as my posts call it). The book had Linnet and Jackie be somewhat nicer, warmer, more vulnerable people, with Linnet being more innocently insensitive due to her lifetime of wealth. Cutting this out without supporting the new changes and how they tie into that "something to say" can leave viewers quite cold.
What's the tragedy of Linnet's murder? Sure, Simon and Jackie seem to be in love, but they still (and with little self-reflection) plotted to murder Linnet from virtually the beginning. And we can't feel all that bad for Linnet, since she (to her knowledge) completely stole Simon with no remorse, not to mention treated most of the other characters with little more sensitivity.
Even in other mysteries where both the murderer(s) and the victim(s) are assholes, there's usually a little more left for the audience to ponder, long after the mystery has been solved. (Indeed, Evil Under the Sun would handle this aspect much better, with its murder's inherent tragedy largely intact from the book.)
THE STUFF OF (LITERAL) NIGHTMARES
So folks, there is a reason why I avoided this film for over a decade until now. Because embarrassing as it is to admit now, my wimpy teenage self didn't take well to three of the film's graphic (for the time) deaths.
Yes, due to being used to 80s T.V. standards on blood and gore, I was not prepared in 2007 for the rather sudden deaths of Louise, Simon, and finally Jackie.
(My prior "casing out" alerted me to the suddenness of Salome Otterbourne's death, so that didn't have the same effect on me as the others. Also, the DVD print had the blood somewhat too bright to look real, if I recall correctly.)
The effect then was, a "playing over and over in my head", as if I had seen them happen in front of me in real time due to their suddenness (along with the shock of the other characters, but none of the psychological effects). The night I saw it, I unfortunately was unable to sleep that night and had to sleep with my mother in her bed instead.
Cut to the next night or so, when my family had friends over at our house. The rental DVD case was still on our kitchen island, and my mother, without so much as a look at me, proceeded to tell them all about my after-Nile experience.
(I can't recall for sure whether she mentioned the "sleeping with her for the night" part, but I doubt it would have helped.)
Much like the chainsaw scene in Scarface (1983), a death is often more effective the less one sees of it. Going back to the deaths now, as a viewer much-better acquainted with the evolution of onscreen bloodiness, I realized the reason these struck me so hard then was, ironically, the editing. As in, Malcolm Cooke finally decided to give us a jolt three times, after all the slowness that came before it.
The problem was, they worked so well that they ended up "not working at all".
Consider this: given how long the viewer spends in this film following its "Point A to Point B" direction and pacing, the ensuing tonal whiplash of the deaths ends up working against everything leading up to them. At least enough to only emphasize the coldness of much of the denouement. (For an example of this method done right, see 1977's The Late Show.)
So basically, my initial hypothesis was proven correct, albeit in differing proportions than I previously thought.
AND THE REST...
Clearly, producers John Brabourne and Richard B. Goodwin strove to replicate the formula that made MOTOE the most successful British film at the time: An all-star cast, lavish locations, and Anthony Shaffer as a screenwriter.
Not only that, but also a former James Bond and
one of the stars of Gaslight, but that's another story.
Since we start with her from virtually the first scene, (well, confronted is too harsh a word, but) we're face-to-face with Lois Chiles, who certainly looks the part of Linnet, but whose line readings make her seem constantly annoyed than anything else. Unsurprisingly, she fares best as a "straight man" to Farrow, Davis, and Warden, where scenes often require her to be understandably angry.
The first legitimate question we hear in this movie.
Had Shaffer's script stuck closer to the book, Linnet might have expressed
more concern for Louise's well-being regarding the latter's choice of
prospective husband, but tellingly, Linnet here coldly imposes her will instead.
While her behavior would definitely raise more red flags today,
Farrow's Jacqueline has enough moments of vulnerability
to keep the audience from hating her completely.
Ustinov excellently balances his character as Poirot
navigates some murky territory in his first outing.
Long and often dismissed as not being a "real" Poirot and the character's equivalent of Margaret Rutherford, Ustinov is a real delight here. Unlike in 1982's Evil Under the Sun, his Poirot has to deal with a darker moral situation (regarding Jackie), while still maintaining the character's trademark charm, wit, and brilliance at all other times. Consequently, this results in a Poirot played less for laughs, but rather a much-needed calm in the craziness around him.
When it comes to the more-than-a-little-questionable
racial humor written for the ship's manager (I.S. Johar),
Miss Bowers is all of us.
Some might see Smith and Lansbury as getting short shrift
in this film, as the ensuing decades would see a massive
increase in their popularity via television.
As much as I prefer her turn in Evil Under the Sun due to her increased screentime, Smith is wonderful here as the "photo in the dictionary, next to the word "uptight"" Miss Bowers. Her scenes with Davis can only be best described as "Minerva McGonagall's early years with Margo Channing".
And they say Eve Harrington is the memetic queer female icon.
Their dynamic in a nutshell.
Lansbury's eyes seem to be at their biggest ever in this film.
And speaking of second viewings, while he was a favorite of mine the first time, I absolutely love David Niven's Colonel Race now. Suave, snarky, and a total badass, he and Ustinov's chemistry pretty much exceeds everything else in the movie. (No surprise, given how Ustinov once posed as Niven's "batman" (personal attendant) in the British Army's Film and Photographic Unit during WWII). Niven's facial expressions here are worth the price of admission alone.
Same, Colonel. Same.
When Poirot is faced with a cobra in his bathroom, his Morse code message to Race is enough for Race to immediately grab his cane sword and swiftly dispose of the snake.
Roger Moore's Bond could never.
A favorite shot right here.
Despite being a composite character from the novel,
Jim Ferguson gets little character development overall.
SO, WHAT'S THE PROBLEM THEN?
While mysteries on film thrive on tension, DOTN's Achilles heel comes in the form of its editing and direction. Never have I watched a mystery so workprint-like in its pacing.
The temple sequence. That is all.
Granted, the sequences at real Egyptian locations try to make up for the bulk of the film's two-hour-and-twenty-minute (!) runtime being on the Karnak (and its cinematic limitations therein), but more than once I wished for someone like Stuart Baird (Superman) to take a crack at it, rather than Malcolm Cooke, the future editor for 1984's Supergirl. The complete lack of musical score in large chunks of the film only emphasizes this further. (Though I will give credit to Nino Rota for not going the stereotypical-"Egyptian" route with his score.)
Another goal not met by this adaptation is the greater thematic statement (the "something to say", as my posts call it). The book had Linnet and Jackie be somewhat nicer, warmer, more vulnerable people, with Linnet being more innocently insensitive due to her lifetime of wealth. Cutting this out without supporting the new changes and how they tie into that "something to say" can leave viewers quite cold.
What's the tragedy of Linnet's murder? Sure, Simon and Jackie seem to be in love, but they still (and with little self-reflection) plotted to murder Linnet from virtually the beginning. And we can't feel all that bad for Linnet, since she (to her knowledge) completely stole Simon with no remorse, not to mention treated most of the other characters with little more sensitivity.
Even in other mysteries where both the murderer(s) and the victim(s) are assholes, there's usually a little more left for the audience to ponder, long after the mystery has been solved. (Indeed, Evil Under the Sun would handle this aspect much better, with its murder's inherent tragedy largely intact from the book.)
THE STUFF OF (LITERAL) NIGHTMARES
So folks, there is a reason why I avoided this film for over a decade until now. Because embarrassing as it is to admit now, my wimpy teenage self didn't take well to three of the film's graphic (for the time) deaths.
Yes, due to being used to 80s T.V. standards on blood and gore, I was not prepared in 2007 for the rather sudden deaths of Louise, Simon, and finally Jackie.
(My prior "casing out" alerted me to the suddenness of Salome Otterbourne's death, so that didn't have the same effect on me as the others. Also, the DVD print had the blood somewhat too bright to look real, if I recall correctly.)
The effect then was, a "playing over and over in my head", as if I had seen them happen in front of me in real time due to their suddenness (along with the shock of the other characters, but none of the psychological effects). The night I saw it, I unfortunately was unable to sleep that night and had to sleep with my mother in her bed instead.
Cut to the next night or so, when my family had friends over at our house. The rental DVD case was still on our kitchen island, and my mother, without so much as a look at me, proceeded to tell them all about my after-Nile experience.
Pictured: This writer's teenage reaction.
(I can't recall for sure whether she mentioned the "sleeping with her for the night" part, but I doubt it would have helped.)
Much like the chainsaw scene in Scarface (1983), a death is often more effective the less one sees of it. Going back to the deaths now, as a viewer much-better acquainted with the evolution of onscreen bloodiness, I realized the reason these struck me so hard then was, ironically, the editing. As in, Malcolm Cooke finally decided to give us a jolt three times, after all the slowness that came before it.
The problem was, they worked so well that they ended up "not working at all".
Consider this: given how long the viewer spends in this film following its "Point A to Point B" direction and pacing, the ensuing tonal whiplash of the deaths ends up working against everything leading up to them. At least enough to only emphasize the coldness of much of the denouement. (For an example of this method done right, see 1977's The Late Show.)
So basically, my initial hypothesis was proven correct, albeit in differing proportions than I previously thought.
AND THE REST...
Sam Wanamaker as Pennington's law partner Rockford
Wanamaker's daughter Zoe would later play Ariadne Oliver
on ITV's Poirot.
Saeed Jaffrey appears uncredited as the Karnak's towel servant.
Harry Andrews (Superman, Entertaining Mr. Sloane)
as Barnstable, Linnet's head butler.
A young Celia Imrie appears as the brunette maid in the middle.
OTHER OBSERVATIONS
Err, Poirot, seeing as you're on a boat in a 70s film,
that's probably not the best choice of words.
"But that's none of my business."
Forgive me for wincing a little on that one.
Par for the course for these mysteries,
Jim and Rosalie are engaged by the film's end
despite little screentime together.
Showing the murder scenario with most of the main
characters drags the film down a bit. EUTS remedied this
by cutting their (fewer) equivalent sequences down further.
This flashback is pure gold, however.
This shot, of course, takes on a whole new meaning on rewatch.
Presented without comment.
TIDBITS AND SUCH
As you probably expect, Murder, She Wrote parodied, referenced, and alluded to Lansbury's filmography constantly, and DOTN was no exception. Season one's cruise ship-set "My Johnny Lies Over the Ocean" (pictured above) has Jessica Fletcher pretend to be drunk in order to flush out a murderer. Olivia Hussey guest stars as a constantly concerned daughter once more in "Sing a Song of Murder", Lois Chiles guest stars in "The Return of Preston Giles" (no need to worry, her acting had much improved by then), and the later Egypt-set "Death 'N Denial" has a character named Sally Otterburn.
Ustinov was married to Lansbury's elder half-sister
Isolde Denham from 1940 to 1950.
In researching for this post, I discovered, to my surprise, that Angela Lansbury had never seen this film until 2018, when she attended its 40th anniversary screening at the Laemmle Theatre in Beverly Hills. As of this review, only Lansbury, Chiles, Farrow, Smith, Birkin, and Hussey are still alive.
It's strange to revisit a film like Death on the Nile after so many years and come away from it with an opinion that's changed, but not by much. Perhaps it struck me in my gut with what didn't work that first time, only for me to better articulate it now. Perhaps with the source material, it would have been difficult for anyone to put it to film without leaving the viewer with a slightly bitter taste.
Poirot and Race's faces sum up this viewer's feelings well.
Enjoyed your revisit to this arguably uneven Agatha Christie outing! It certainly has its share of pluses and minuses (well-taken points about the shifting tone, the horthand characterizations, and abrupt violence) while still managing to be a very entertaining entry in the Poirot series.
ReplyDeleteLaughed at your reference to IMDB's mercifully defunct message boards! Love your new site and looking forward to more of your essays!
Hi Ken! Thank you for being my first comment here! (I'm not at all surprised it would be from you :)
DeleteOverall, while I do prefer Evil Under the Sun to this one, I do love Ustinov and Niven and it's too bad the latter wasn't in that film too.
And I don't miss those old days on IMDB, mostly because I wasn't all that articulate in writing then and was quite a bit over my head, so that only ups my embarrassment attached to this film.
I noticed in your review of this film that your copy was probably a U.S. print, since the title card of mine (likely the 2017 Region B Blu-ray) has an EMI Films copyright on it.
Thank you for your kind words, and I'm so happy you've gotten some joy from these essays. (They're quite fun to write, and it's been a strange trip revisiting some of these films, to say the least.)