Why do you believe in God?
That’s heady stuff to begin a review of Kenneth Branagh’s new Poirot movie, A Hunting in Venice, but it’s appropriate, believe it or not. The story has the mustachioed detective divining the veracity of a medium due to a dare from a friend who hopes to restore Poirot’s faith in… something? Everything? The film isn’t particular. The story just wants Poirot to believe again because he doesn’t given all the murder and death he’s seen. His disbelief is a perfectly logical reaction to what life has shown him, and a big part of me is more interested in that friend who so desperately wants Poirot to believe again. What difference does it make to her whether or not Poirot has faith? Ah, but this is a Poirot mystery, so all motivations will be laid bare by the end. That’s not a matter of belief. It’s a certainty.
A Haunting in Venice is a great ghost story. It’s not as scary as its trailer would have you believe, though it doesn’t have its moments of spine-tingling terror. The movie is Branagh following Hitchcock’s lead up Vertigo’s spiral staircases and in and out of Rebecca’s curtains. It’s fun to watch the unflappable Poirot get a little rattled. Three films into this series, Branagh really has the character dialed in. Tina Fey is a welcome addition. She’s not doing “a Tina Fey character in a Poirot movie.” She’s just acting. It’s fun to see her act. As in the other films in the series—and especially as in Orient Express—the rest of the cast rounds out quite well.
But in Branagh’s conception of the character, a Poirot story is a Poirot show. The character’s arc this time is from unbelief to faith, protesting all the way. While the film isn’t exact about what Poirot needs to believe in, it’s at least fleet enough that you don’t mind the ambiguity. This is murder mastery of the week territory, not life changing stuff, and if you walk out of the theater feeling more buoyant than you walked in wondering why and maybe thinking about it for a moment longer, all the better.
Like I said, I like a good ghost story. I like movies that know what they’re about and don’t overstay their welcome. I like movies that like their audience and believe the best about them. I like A Haunting in Venice.
Oh! I believe in God because I do, and I believe that God’s existence doesn’t depend on my belief or anyone else’s, and knowing that and living accordingly gives me the kind of peace I can rest in. And if God is whom I’ve been told God is, then God wants me and everyone—even people like Hercule Poirot—to be at peace.
Why do you believe in God?
That’s heady stuff to begin a review of Kenneth Branagh’s new Poirot movie, A Hunting in Venice, but it’s appropriate, believe it or not. The story has the mustachioed detective divining the veracity of a medium due to a dare from a friend who hopes to restore Poirot’s faith in… something? Everything? The film isn’t particular. The story just wants Poirot to believe again because he doesn’t given all the murder and death he’s seen. His disbelief is a perfectly logical reaction to what life has shown him, and a big part of me is more interested in that friend who so desperately wants Poirot to believe again. What difference does it make to her whether or not Poirot has faith? Ah, but this is a Poirot mystery, so all motivations will be laid bare by the end. That’s not a matter of belief. It’s a certainty.
A Haunting in Venice is a great ghost story. It’s not as scary as its trailer would have you believe, though it doesn’t have its moments of spine-tingling terror. The movie is Branagh following Hitchcock’s lead up Vertigo’s spiral staircases and in and out of Rebecca’s curtains. It’s fun to watch the unflappable Poirot get a little rattled. Three films into this series, Branagh really has the character dialed in. Tina Fey is a welcome addition. She’s not doing “a Tina Fey character in a Poirot movie.” She’s just acting. It’s fun to see her act. As in the other films in the series—and especially as in Orient Express—the rest of the cast rounds out quite well.
But in Branagh’s conception of the character, a Poirot story is a Poirot show. The character’s arc this time is from unbelief to faith, protesting all the way. While the film isn’t exact about what Poirot needs to believe in, it’s at least fleet enough that you don’t mind the ambiguity. This is murder mastery of the week territory, not life changing stuff, and if you walk out of the theater feeling more buoyant than you walked in wondering why and maybe thinking about it for a moment longer, all the better.
Like I said, I like a good ghost story. I like movies that know what they’re about and don’t overstay their welcome. I like movies that like their audience and believe the best about them. I like A Haunting in Venice.
Oh! I believe in God because I do, and I believe that God’s existence doesn’t depend on my belief or anyone else’s, and knowing that and living accordingly gives me the kind of peace I can rest in. And if God is whom I’ve been told God is, then God wants me and everyone—even people like Hercule Poirot—to be at peace.
Elijah Davidson is Co-Director of Brehm Film and Senior Film Critic. Subscribe to Come & See, his weekly newsletter that guides you through the greatest films ever made, and find more of his work at elijahdavidson.com.
