Yes, I saw Kenneth Branagh's misbegotten adaptation of Agatha Christie's brilliant "Murder on the Orient Express." It wasn't meaty enough, didn't feel like a full-course meal, instead it was a half-baked affair that has spurts of brilliant scattered over a dull, monotonous narrative. The full review can be read here on The Film Stage.
A few excerpts:
"While Branagh and the cast at his disposal keep the proceedings engaging and spontaneous as they could be for the first hour, the second hour is a different story as a multitude of heavy-handed reveals within a messy structure consistently threaten to derail the initial pleasures. Unlike the BBC’s Sherlock, Branagh’s classical style begins to dull; even the finding of an important clue feels unexciting. At no point are we ever intrigued as to who the killer is which is an issue for a two-hour murder mystery. Suffice to say, this all leads to muddled structural decisions and an underwhelming finale which has us playing catch-up to Poirot instead of discovering the reveals alongside him."
"When it comes to a murder-mystery, one would expect tense atmosphere with a hint of dreadful paranoia lurking in every frame. Branagh misses this tension with a too-polite approach, over-stuffed with camaraderie and strenuous likability. The claustrophobia of the source material is gone, replaced with Branagh’s interest in shots that depict, for example, the majesty of the snow post-avalanche, instead of Christie’s descriptions of the harsh conditions entrapping the characters on the train. Branagh—the actor—dominates the film, with everyone else in supporting roles. Meanwhile Branagh—the director—relies on a too-colorful style and atmosphere, shooting himself in the foot by cutting short the darkness that loomed in Christie’s original vision."
While James L. Brooks teased last year that "we'll soon be seeing" Jack Nicholson, 89, act again, and that he was "reading scripts," that idea has now been shut down by his close friend Michael Douglas, 82.