After a short break caused by COVID, Kenneth Branagh’s handsome Agatha Christie adaptations, “Murder on the Orient Express,” “Death on the Nile” and now “A Haunting in Venice,” have become an annual tradition. Like fruit cake at Christmas, or those Halloween Molasses Kisses that stick to everything they come in contact with, the movies are a sweet treat, but are quickly forgotten.
Branagh returns as both director and elaborately mustachioed detective Hercule Poirot. When we first see the world’s best, and most famous sleuth, he is in self-exile in Venice, living alone with only his bodyguard (Riccardo Scamarcio) for company and as protection from the crime groupies that pester him when he leaves the house.
He is burned out, tired of staring into the abyss of the worst of human behavior. Instead, he passes his time ensconced on his rooftop patio, enjoying the sun and the best pastries Venice has to offer.
His idyll is interrupted when an old friend, possibly his only friend, Ariadne Oliver (Tina Fey) drops by. She is the author of a string of detective novels based on Poirot’s exploits, and has a case she thinks will lure him out of retirement.
She convinces him to attend a Halloween night seance at the allegedly haunted palazzo of Rowena Drake (Kelly Reilly), a mother grieving the tragic death of her daughter Alicia. The detective, a man of science, is skeptical, but agrees to attend, if only to expose the proceedings as fakery.
When people start dying, Poirot’s instincts kick in as he sorts through the red herrings, ghostly happenings and the backgrounds of each guest, including the pious housekeeper Olga Seminoff (Camille Cottin), the shell-shocked Dr. Leslie Ferrier (Jamie Dornan) and his precocious son Leopold (Jude Hill) and psychic medium Joyce Reynolds (Michelle Yeoh), to get to the bottom of the case. “There have been two impossible murders,” he says, “as if the living have been killed by the dead. No one shall leave this place until I know who did it.”
“A Haunting in Venice” is the most gothic of Branagh’s Christie adaptations. Tilted camera angles and extreme close-ups lend a claustrophobic, and welcome weird vibe to the murder mystery. Add to that some jump scares and hallucinogenic imagery, and you get the jitteriest of Branagh’s Christie films. The rest of it, from the stunt casting to the big reveal at the end, feel more familiar, like ghostly spectres left over from the other films.
Branagh directs and performs with vigor, but the mechanics of the investigation sap much of the film’s energy and tension. Despite good performances— Cottin and Yeoh are standouts—the talky nature of Poirot’s interrogations, even when broken up by slick editing and inventive photography, slow the movie’s pace to a crawl.
Worse, the cross examinations don’t reveal much in the way of usable clues for the audience. One of the treats of a murder mystery as a viewer is the opportunity to follow along, to arrive at a conclusion based on the information provided. “A Haunting in Venice” cobbles together a series of clues, obvious only to Poirot and screenwriter Michael Green. It feels like a cheat when the great detective reveals an arcane fact not even hinted at in the narrative.
“A Haunting in Venice” is a beautiful looking film, with exquisite, gothic production design and some fun performances, but as a thriller, it feels as lifeless as one of the movie’s murder victims.
“Space Oddity,” a new overstuffed feature directed by actor Kyra Sedgwick and now playing on VOD, flits around between space travel, trauma, the ecology, family dynamics and romance without ever settling on any one of them.
When we meet the McAllister family, Rhode Island flower farmers Jeff (Kevin Bacon) and Jane (Carrie Preston), daughter Liz (Madeline Brewer) and son Alex (Kyle Allen), they are dealing with great trauma. The death of their middle son has left the parents and sister lost, throwing themselves into work to cope with their loss.
Alex, however, has an out-of-this-world plan to escape his pain. He joins Mission to Mars, a private company—think Bezos and Musk—with plans to colonize Mars. It’s not a one-way trip either. Earth is dying, Alex says, so why hang around?
His family goes along with his pipe dream until he gets serious, and applies for insurance to help finance the journey. At the insurance office, however, he meets Daisy (Alexandra Shipp), a broker who just might give the rocket man a reason to come down to earth.
The subject of space travel is the method by which “Space Oddity” conveys its real message, about the state of our planet and what needs to be done to save our environment, but the addition of family drama and romance makes it feel like it is madly running off in several directions all at once.
It has the feel of an after school special. The lead, Alex, isn’t a teenager, but he behaves like one and Allen’s wishy-washy performance doesn’t do much to hold our interest at the center of the film. He isn’t aided by a script that telegraphs every plot twist in advance. If the film’s journey had been more interesting, the predictable destination wouldn’t be as bland.
“Space Oddity” simply bites off more than it can chew. The environmental messages are heavy-handed with no new ideas and, as a study of grief, it is far too light weight.
“Rosaline,” a new romantic comedy based on “Romeo and Juliet,” alters the dynamics of William Shakespeare’s play by flipping the script to focus on Rosaline (Kaitlyn Dever), Romeo Montague’s ex-girlfriend. “The greatest story ever told,” she says, “was missing a chapter. Mine.”
Based on Rebecca Serle’s young adult novel “When You Were Mine,” which was inspired by Shakespeare’s romantic tragedy, the Disney+ movie sees Kaitlyn Dever play a character who is mentioned but never seen in the original play. She is Rosaline, Romeo’s (Kyle Allen) girlfriend, at least she is until her cousin, Juliet Capulet (Isabela Merced) shows up.
Turns out Romeo uses his trademarked flowery romantic language to seduce Juliet. “I’m afraid you’re not the first maiden he’s charmed with his high cheekbones and fancy words,” says Rosaline.
Distraught, Rosaline is determined to break them up, and win back her man, even as a possible new romance with Dario (Sean Teale) brews. “Romeo and Juliet,” she snorts, “It doesn’t even sound right.”
These times of woe afford no time to woo, indeed.
Like “A Knight’s Tale” or the recent “Catherine Called Birdy,” “Rosaline” is a medieval period piece presented with modern sensibilities and idioms. The iconic balcony scene, for instance, is there, but tweaked for laughs, and at one point the morose Rosaline uses cholera as an excuse to not get out of bed.
Even the play’s famous ending has been spun. No spoilers here, but it should be noted that “Rosaline” isn’t exactly a romance and it isn’t a tragedy. It’s more a heartbroken journey of empowerment and self-discovery.
It doesn’t all work. The story slows in the middle, and, for older viewers the high school romance aspects may get old quickly, but at the heart of the story is Dever. As the title character she is both vindictive and vulnerable, a young woman with an attitude and a big beating heart. Her recent work, heavier turns in the film “Dear Evan Hanson” and TV dramas like “Dopesick” and “Unbelievable,” haven’t showcased her comedic talents, but “Rosaline” gives her the opportunity to stand out in the midst of the movie’s screwball co-incidences and farcical aspects.
Strong work from Bradley Whitford as Friar Laurence—who scolds his daughter with, “You are a woman. You’re not supposed to talk about what you want!”—and “Good Will Hunting’s “Minnie Driver as the outspoken Nurse, round out the cast.
“Rosaline” is no “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead.” Tom Stoppard’s absurdist, existential tragicomic “Hamlet” riff examines the mystery of life. “Rosaline” sets its sights lower. It is a high school romance in a corset that should work for fans of “Romeo and Juliet,” the Coles Notes version.
If “All My Life,” a new tearjerker starring Jessica Rothe and now playing in theatres, wasn’t based on the real life story of a Toronto couple, it would be the kind of story Nicholas Sparks would write.
Jennifer (Rothe) and Solomon (Harry Shum Jr.) are a cute couple who meet-cute in a bar and seem destined to live a cute happily ever after. They like the same kind of cheesy 80s rock, they laugh and giggle while jumping into water fountains and say things like, “I didn’t know how much I could actually love before I met you,” to one another.
But keep in mind, this isn’t a rom com. It’s a romantic drama in à la Sparks, so I’ll stop using the word cute now.
There’s nothing cute (whoops) about Sol’s diagnoses of terminal liver cancer. Their plans for a December wedding on hold, their friends raise money and give them the day of their dreams as Sol’s health worsens.
“All My Life” is a three or four hanky movie where everything you think will happen, happens. But what it lacks in innovation, it makes up for with a certain kind of comfortable predictability. You’ve heard the dialogue before—”You make me feel Like I can do anything. Like we can do anything.”—and the group of BFFs are the usual kind of misfits who could have wandered in from any number of other teen dramas but when the movie focusses on the leads, Rothe and Shum Jr., it becomes less about cliches and more about the heart of the story.
The pair share a number of scenes that drive home the direness of the situation. Strongest is a heartfelt discussion about their future plans that closes with, “I am not your widow, I am your bride,” a message of true love that makes up for the manipulation of the earlier scenes.
“All My Life” is sugary enough to give you a cavity, but in its better moments it is a reminder to embrace life and roll with the punches, no matter what happens.
