Death on the Nile

Kenneth Branagh has adapted several Shakespeare plays to film and he’s on a path to do the same with Agatha Christie novels. A writer’s popularity doesn’t necessarily translate into hit movies (most of his Shakespeare films were financial failures), but Branagh will have more box-office success with Christie than he had with the bard. Still, his Shakespeare works often brought out his adventurous side and easily rank among his most creative cinematic efforts. Unfortunately, he hasn’t been able to inject the same energy and inventiveness into his two Christie movies. In Murder on the Orient Express, Branagh didn’t give ample focus to most of his characters. The same is true of its mediocre sequel, Death on the Nile.

In World War I, young Hercule Poirot (Branagh) conceives a clever idea to attack the enemy, turning a certain loss for his Belgian unit to a likely win. An explosion, however, disfigures his face. In 1937, sundry elegantly dressed (thanks to Paco Delgado’s striking costumes) people gather in Egypt on a luxurious yacht, including a wealthy, arresting heiress, Linnet Ridgeway-Doyle (Gal Gadot), her new hubby Simon (Armie Hammer), Simon’s former fiancée “Jackie” (Emma Mackey), Linnet’s cousin and trustee Andrew (Ali Fazal), Poirot’s good friend Bouc (Tom Bateman), Bouc’s pessimistic painter mother Euphemia (Annette Bening), and others. Along the way, a man gets shot, then someone is killed, or maybe it’s the other way around. With Christie, sometimes the obvious turns out to be fraudulent. Trusty Poroit is thankfully there to solve this intricate case.

Michael Green’s screenplay makes some alterations with Christie’s book. The romance novelist and her daughter, for instance, have been swapped for a jazz musician Salome (Sohpie Okonedo) and her business manager niece Rosalie (Letitia Wright). I have mentioned the World War I prologue, but Poirot’s mustache gets an origin story. Young Poirot has a lover, Katherine (Susannah Fielding), who tells him to become mustachioed to cover his mutilated face. The new Poirot scenes add texture to the Belgian sleuth, though the essence of the tale remains.

I watched the 1978 version of Death on the Nile recently, and I have mixed view of it. It has a too-languid tempo and it’s also overlong. Branagh has fixed those problems by maintaining a forge-ahead speed and keeping the running time from feeling excessive (it's more than 10 minutes shorter). But this mystery has its own troubles. It was predominantly shot on a soundstage in Surrey, England (not on location), and the CGI doesn’t convince. The pyramids and Abu Simbel appear phony and tacky. A few suspects aren’t in the film long enough. Linus (Russell Brand), for example, is a doctor and Linnet’s former fiancé, yet since he’s rarely a part of the action, I never thought he could be the killer. That’s also true of Linnet’s godmother, Marie Van Schuyler (Jennifer Saunders), and her nurse, Mrs. Bowers (Dawn French).

Green’s script makes other mistakes. In a Christie mystery, I find it much more entertaining to know the conflict one character has with another before the victim dies. I get the chance to observe and make up my mind about how hot the drama truly is, so I can make my best guess concerning the culprit. But that doesn’t always happen here. Poirot discovers the deceased put a stop to Louise’s (Rose Leslie’s) engagement, but since the info arrives post-mortem, it’s not helpful. In the 1978 adaptation, Louise (Jane Birkin) has a scene with the future victim that reveals how desperate she is. I understood the stress Louise was experiencing and wondered if her disappointment was so deep, she could kill. Without a comparable sequence, Louise’s contribution to the movie is diminished. (Spoiler, though not an Earth-shaking one) The audience also learns Salome was insulted by the victim more than a decade earlier. Aside from not being an adequate reason for ending someone’s life, it’s the type of thing that should have been known earlier. If that had occurred and a scene putting Salome’s hostility for the past wrong had been included, she might have been a top suspect. As it is, she’s not.

Poirot’s backstory allows Branagh to mine the detective’s emotions and make him someone I felt for. He’s greatly affected by loss, but it’s something he uses to be as resolute in his job as he can. Branagh may not be making high-quality movie mysteries, but at least his Poirot is a heady force. Gal Gadot (who has an entertaining entrance) is only average in the role of Linnet. Although she’s not dull, she’s not the sort of woman who would arouse so much hostility. Sophie Okonedo projects an appealing self-confidence, even when she says little or nothing. Emma Mackey exudes a passion that makes most of the other suspects seem a bit drab. Jim Clay deserves commendation for his richly detailed production design, and Abi Groves creates some attractive sets. As for the music, there are times when Patrick Doyle’s score is overdone, as during the search for the missing necklace. Doyle does much better during the climax’s apogee. The music rises and stops repeatedly, like moans—quite a neat touch. The fetching cinematography is by Haris Zambarloukus, who shot Murder on the Orient Express. As in the earlier movie, Zambarloukos moves the camera frequently, adding some oomph to the action.

But there’s only so much the cinematographer can do. Although the camera whirls here and twirls there, it doesn’t fully intrigue largely because, like Branagh’s Murder on the Orient Express, most of the characters aren’t intriguing.

Scream

The latest Scream movie arrives over 25 years after Wes Craven’s original of the same title, an odd choice. I hope future movies in the series aren’t also called Scream because it would be like we’re getting yet another self-titled Weezer album. This movie may have been given its title to seem like a reboot instead of another sequel (which it is) in an old series. Through one of its characters, the flick calls itself a “requel,” part of an ongoing franchise that includes new faces and is given support by legacy characters, like the Star Wars sequel trilogy.

The action takes place in Woodsboro, California, more than a quarter century after the killing spree that left many dead in the first film. Ghostface pops up again, plunging his knife into a fresh crop of teens related to the town’s homicidal past. After Sara (Jenna Ortega) is brutally assaulted, her older sister Sam (Melissa Barrera), who left years earlier, returns to Woodsboro with boyfriend Richie (Jack Quaid) to search for the suspects. They travel to the home of weary ex-cop Dewey (David Arquette), the former husband of Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox), and he gives them tips on the previous killers’ tendencies. He also contacts Gale and Sidney (Neve Campbell) to tell them Ghostface is back. The new and older characters hope to stop Ghostface before he strikes again.

For those who want to discover the Easter eggs themselves, kindly jump to the next paragraph. Here are some: new character Liv’s (Sonia Ben Ammar’s) ex-boyfriend Vince (Kyle Gallner) is the nephew of Stu (Matthew Lillard) from the first Scream; there’s a street in Woodsboro called Elm Street, a nod Wes Craven, who directed the first four movies in the series; Billy Loomis (Skeet Ulrich) appears as a halluciantion to his daughter Sam; Wes Hicks (Dylan Minnette) is the son of Judy Hicks (Marley Shelton) from Scream 4; there’s a recreation of the famous “Turn around” scene from Scream (1996), which I enjoyed; new characters Chad (Mason Gooding) and Mindy (Jasmin Savoy Brown), brother-sister twins, are the niece and nephew of Randy Meeks (Jamie Kennedy). There are others as well.

In some areas, Scream is a mix of good entertainment and disappointments. Take the new generation of teenagers, for instance. Tara is a solid character who has a story worth caring about, as does Sam, though of the two, I prefer Tara’s. Personality-oozing Chad and amiable Mindy, who loves the Stab movies-within-the-Scream-movies, are a pleasure to see. Richie has some spirit to him too. Some of the others, however, don’t stand out as they should. Amber (Mikey Madison) certainly isn’t shy, but she isn’t given the screen time to make much out of her. Wes is nice, decent guy, but compared to some of the others, he’s human wallpaper. Liv is neither dull nor dynamic; she’s mostly just there.

The script by James Vanderbilt and Guy Busick tries to keep the action lively through humor and poking fun at horror movie tropes. Unfortunately, it only succeeds on occasion. When a door closes and the music strongly hints someone a jump scare is coming, it’s humorous because expectations are thwarted. While there’s some pleasure to be had, they stop being amusing after a while. Certain lines that are intended to be diverting are all right, but they’re not direct hits, as when Richie calls Dewey “shitty Sam Elliott.” Also, Richie, referring again to Dewey, tells Sam, “Look, just because that guy showered doesn’t mean he should have a gun.” That punchline needs more punch or wit.

The screenplay also takes aim at toxic fandom. There have been eight Stab movies, and apparently admirers of it hated the latest effort. Rian Johnson is said to have directed it. That’s a reference to the backlash against The Last Jedi, which some fans despised. It also led to online abuse of Kelly Marie Tran, who played Rose Tico in the Johnson-helmed film, who left social media. Scream gives the sense that Stab was a bad movie very much like The Last Jedi. Yet it’s not truly a parallel case. A lot of fans really like that Star Wars entry, and it was critically acclaimed. Stab is viewed as simply awful, and although Liv likes it, her view is dismissed because she’s got rotten taste. Still, the toxic fandom that simmers and explodes in Scream gives necessary motivation and is welcome.

What about the vintage characters? Dewey comes off best, giving the movie some of its heart. He seems emotionally invested in killing Ghostface, and he’s more natural interacting with the teens. Gale and Sidney are less a part of the action (until the final half hour) and aren’t as needed as Dewey. They want Ghostface out of Woodsboro too (or dead in Woodsboro), though it’s a little strange to see a reporter and a mother who lives in a different city inject themselves into killing drama as they do. They’re there because the movie wants them there. At least Dewey was a cop.

The performances too are a mixed bag. Jenna Ortega gives the performance I like most. Her growing terror as she speaks on the phone to Ghostface is convincingly acted, as is her later anger at Sam for leaving Woodsboro. In the lead role, Melissa Barrera is far less expressive than Ortega, though she’s better when she explains to Tara why she left Woodsboro. Jack Quaid, Mason Gooding, and Jasmin Savoy Brown are all good. David Arquette instills enough emotion to make Dewey an empathetic character, which isn’t easy because he’s a burnt-out case. The scene with Dewey and Gale talking about how the relationship fizzled is believably played on both sides. Since Arquette and Cox were divorced, I wonder if they chanelled their real feelings of yesteryear for it. Aside from that, Cox is average, and so is Neve Campbell, who lacks emotion. And Bryan Tyler’s score no better than fair. When Sam and Richie talk to Dewey the first time, the music accompanying their discussion is utterly ordinary.

I’ll admit I’ve waffled between the pros and cons of Scream, but was it worth my time? Before I answer, I should say I was surprised by the reviews that said the movie was funny but not as scary as it should have been. For me, it was the opposite: more laughs would have helped, but there are plenty of chilling scenes. Directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillet speed the action at a clip and never let a slower scene bog down the movie. Mindy’s monologue about requels, for instance, is an expo dump. It’s still reasonably entertaining and shows Mindy’s insights into the killer and knowledge of sequels. After that, though, there’s a good sequence involving Judy Hicks and Ghostface. It’s followed by an even better scene with Wes and Ghostface. Psycho is referenced and Wes is in the shower. The suspense the directors create is delicious—Hitchcock would have loved it. I also enjoyed the hospital part with Dewey, a few teens, and Ghostface. And while the climax is a bit too talky, it’s surely frightening at times.

So, yes, Scream is worth watching. Whatever its struggles, it does what a slasher movie must do: it delivers the scares.

February 17, 2022

The Tragedy of Macbeth

Macbeth is the shortest of Shakespeare’s tragedies and the one, if done right, that has the snappiest tempo. This close-to-bare-bones movie adaptation by Joel Coen, a Coen brother on his own, is a bold, inventive work. I’ll admit there are shortcomings, and I’m sure sure many purists will enjoy it less than I did. So many parts are so good, though, I am gratified I saw it.

When reviewing film based on Shakespeare, I ask myself if the director has brought something to the story I haven’t seen before. The answer is yes. For one thing, Macbeth (Denzel Washington) and Lady Macbeth (Francis McDormand) are older than the actors I have seen in previous iterations. (Two examples: Orson Welles was in his early 30s when he made Macbeth, and Jon Finch was not yet 30 in Roman Polanski’s version.) This is relevant because if the main character is a young man, he has a lot of time to be king. With Macbeth and Lady Macbeth in their 60s, it ups the urgency and gives the sense that if the king isn’t killed soon, Macbeth’s chance to rule will evaporate.

Coen tries to fuse the stage and screen. The movie was shot on a soundstage, and only minutes in, that’s obvious. There’s greater depth to this stage than in the typical theater stage, but less depth than if the “outdoor” scenes had really been outdoors. Many backgrounds are smoky and seem hemmed in, as they would be on the stage. The overcast sky in many scenes doesn’t seem clearly phony as it might in the theater, but it doesn’t appear like a real sky, either. I should make a critical point: Coen isn’t trying to create a photographed play. He’s emphasizing the theatricality in some respects and marrying it to film, as Orson Welles did in his stripped-down 1948 version. What cinematic offerings does Coen bring?

Quite a few. He uses Expressionistic sets that recall Carl Theodor Dreyer works such as The Passion of Joan of Arc and Ordet. Coen also uses light and shadow to point to Macbeth’s dual nature, as when, to take one of the many instances, Macbeth walks outside the castle and the shadows from pillars strike him every few feet. Bruno Delbonnel’s black-and-white photography makes the most of contrasting lights and darknesses than color film could. The monochromatic grays are also remarkably handsome. The smoke connotes there’s an evil that is making this world burn from below, as when Macbeth and Macduff clash near the end, and hints at Macbeth’s inner turmoil. Sound is also put to excellent use. There are wind gusts, birds cawing, thunder rumbling, a tree branch knocking against a window, and an owl shrieking (at least, Lady Macbeth says it’s an owl). In one scene, Macbeth’s footsteps are like a metronome, punctuated by the loud drips of Duncan’s blood. Macbeth’s steps are too slow to be realistic, yet the Coen isn’t trying to recreate reality. He’s revealing, through sound, how Macbeth’s bloody misdeeds are with him with every step he takes. Carter Burwell’s menacing music fits in perfectly with the sinister world Coen creates.

Coen slashes many lines Shakespeare’s text and moves the action along an engaging speed. It’s not as fast as a typical superhero movie, but it’s certainly not boring at 105 minutes. The words aren’t spoken with the reverence the stage actors I’ve seen give them, and because the actors pause and reflect less than usual, the pace quickens. The film was shot with an almost square 1:19:1 aspect ratio, making Macbeth’s inner reality seem even more constricted and claustrophobic. The movie’s visual quality is another strength. The shot of trees seemingly inside the castle, for instance, is a good one. Earlier, the camera glides downward through smoke toward something dark. What is it? A lake? The camera doesn’t stop until it comes to a tightly framed shot on the side-turned face of a witch. I too love the image of a letter Lady Macbeth has burned that floats up toward the stars. No doubt it’s melodramatic, but it’s also visually and aurally stirring.

There are drawbacks. While the textual cuts help the movie move faster than most versions I’ve seen, they damage Lady Macbeth’s character arc. She encourages her husband to kill in the early stages, yet when she grows insane, it’s simply not convincing. To put it in Aristotelian terms, there are begininings, but not enough middle scenes (where examples of her decline should be) to make her ending sequences feel real. I wanted more exterior shots of the castle as well. Coen could have shown wide shots of the castle becoming darker the longer Macbeth is the king to reflect the title character’s growing instability. Even the final duel on a high, narrow walkway reveals too little of the castle. Yes, there’s smoke, but it seems to be there to hide the castle more than to be a manifestation of Macbeth’s internal deterioration.

Denzel Washington and Francis McDormand are among the best American movie actors of the past three decades, and I’m glad that they took on the two lead roles. Washington underplays Macbeth’s ambition in the first third. When he and Lady Macbeth talk in this section, they sometimes whisper. This works for Washington later as he contrasts his early, soft-spoken character to the man he turns into. After remarking that Banquo is his enemy, Macbeth says, “And in such bloody distance, that every minute of his being thrusts against my nearest of life!” He says “thrusts” with such anger, it’s clear he’s a very different character than when he was merely planning to kill the king. Washington is not perfect. His “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,” speech isn’t half as successful as Welles’s was in his Macbeth. Of course, the latter’s reading was winningly dramatic, and Washington delivers the soliloquy with resignation. Unfortunately, it lacks power. Still, in the main, he satisfies.

Overall, I’m split on Francis McDormand’s portrayal. Like Washington, she plays Lady Macbeth with restraint. She does it not only in the beginning scenes, but most of the way through. She gives the words, “What’s done is done” a commanding finality. She also provides the line, “Be bright and jovial among your guests” the firmness it needs. But whereas Washington differentiates his pre-killing Macbeth with the one who becomes king, McDormand remains mostly subdued throughout and lacks the intensity the part demands. She is further hampered by a script (by Coen) that doesn’t give enough focus to her mental deterioration. So, in the hand-washing scene, when she goes mad, McDormand wails plausibly, but because of how script limits her character, her insanity isn’t believable. Brendan Gleason plays Duncan in a conventional manner that, while not incompetent, seems too tame.

Kathryn Hunter gives an amazing performance as the witches, all three. She looks striking, with her sometimes angular and gnarled limbs and her forehead full of grooves. She has different vocal tones, with the Third Witch’s voice being the lowest and the creepiest. She is very much as otherworldly as she should be and leaves an indelible mark.

The Tragedy of Macbeth gets most of the individual parts right (including Mary Zophres’s attractively textured clothing design) and is worth experiencing. As much as I love the Coen brothers, I think Joel should go solo more often.