\n<\/p>\n
What genre does \u201cA Haunting in Venice\u201d belong to?<\/p>\n
Twirl a mustache and join me on the case. Our first clue is that Kenneth Branagh is playing Hercule Poirot in his third adaptation of an Agatha Christie story. So, this would appear to be an open-and-shut case. Add a murder in a spooky house peopled by suspects, and you have all the hallmarks of a classic locked-room mystery. But Christie fans will quickly deduce that the screenwriter Michael Green has departed considerably from \u201cHallowe\u2019en Party,\u201d the original source material from 1969, one of her later, lesser books, adding elements that move into the realm of supernatural horror. Be on guard for misdirection.<\/p>\n
A glum Poirot, retired from solving cases, has been invited to attend a s\u00e9ance where a famous opera singer, Rowena Drake (Kelly Reilly), wants to contact her dead daughter. The medium (or fraud?) is played with brio by Michelle Yeoh, and her psychic powers present a challenge to the stony rationality of the aging detective. Unlike his relatively faithful, innocuously entertaining versions of \u201cMurder on the Orient Express<\/a>\u201d and \u201cDeath on the Nile<\/a>,\u201d Branagh is pushing into ghostly new territory, leaning on scary-movie tropes such as scurrying rats, jump scares and that old standby, a face popping up in the mirror.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n It\u2019s a bit gloomy as a mystery, but perfunctory as horror. Too talky, for one thing. Branagh, who dabbled in gothic terror early in his career when he made \u201cFrankenstein,\u201d has more of a feel for actorly grand guignol than the pace of cinematic-scare sequences. Just when you are about to return to the whodunit, there\u2019s an invigorating twist, spurred largely by the presence of Tina Fey, who, between this movie and her wryly satirical flourishes as an opportunistic podcaster in the series \u201cOnly Murders in the Building,\u201d is getting awfully skilled at playing a potential killer. Fey here embodies the sharp-tongued Ariadne Oliver, a mystery author with a screwball cadence, touchy about her critical reception.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Fey introduces a comedic energy into the movie, talking out of the side of her mouth while accompanying Poirot. She adds some much-needed fizzy carbonation to the stiff drink of mystery solving. Branagh wants to tell a story of a shaken, brooding Poirot struggling with decline, but luckily, camp humor intrudes. When he aims his preposterous accent at the French actress Camille Cottin, who plays a housekeeper, it makes you think a good time was had on set.<\/p>\n In straddling genres, \u201cHaunting\u201d can get stuck in the middle. But there\u2019s fun to be had there. What\u2019s consistent is the elegant visuals \u2014 striking cinematography by Haris Zambarloukos \u2014 which mark this movie\u2019s real genre as lavish old-fashioned Hollywood entertainment. Canted views of surprising corners of the house alternate with postcard-stunning shots of rainy Venetian nights. But the dominant images are close-ups of movie stars, including long, lingering glances at Branagh, whose whispery gravitas provides good, if melancholy, company and occasional wit.<\/p>\n In the original book, Poirot ponders the subject of beauty. He sounds skeptical and a bit insecure. \u201cThere was only one thing about his own appearance which really pleased Hercule Poirot,\u201d Christie writes, \u201cand that was the profusion of his mustache.\u201d<\/p>\n Branagh remained entirely faithful on this trait. But he couldn\u2019t help but add a soul patch.<\/p>\n A Haunting in Venice<\/strong>
Rated PG-13 for dangerous apple-bobbing and death by impalement. Running time: 1 hour 43 minutes. In theaters.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n