When given the freedom, he can be one of the most overheated of directors, but the excess rarely feels cynical or cheap. I did.īranagh has never been a stranger to bombast, whether he was doing Shakespeare (think of the bellowing portent of Henry V, or the careening cameras and swirling orchestral crescendos of Much Ado About Nothing) or making a period horror adaptation ( Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is so visually histrionic it makes Bram Stoker’s Dracula look like Robert Bresson’s Pickpocket). If you’re still reading this, then perhaps you might enjoy the movie. He shoots the Karnak, the steamboat with which our protagonists will travel the Nile, like he’s just been handed the reins to Titanic 2. In Death on the Nile, Branagh films a riverside hotel in Egypt like it was the grand Elvish sanctuary Rivendell from The Fellowship of the Ring, all swooping cameras and soaring music. Kenneth Branagh’s latest Agatha Christie film begins with a gritty, black-and-white prologue set in the trenches of World War I, in which we learn the incredibly disturbing origins of Hercule Poirot’s mustache. Gal Gadot and Emma Mackey in Death on the Nile.
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