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As much as Derek Raymond, the writer, had criticism for Agatha Christie, to me, the most famous English mystery writer remains a genius. Even though her literary genre is not my favorite, her books and her adventurous life have always interested me in a particular way. Rarely have I found the reading of a mystery as intriguing, subtle, and sharp as that of any of her novels (Among those I have read, of course).
Therefore, after "Murder on the Orient Express," I find myself reviewing another of the numerous films adapted from her writings, "Death on the Nile". To set the record straight, the two novels are part of a trilogy that concludes with "Non c’è più scampo," and they are connected by the theme of travel (Eastern Europe, Egypt, Iraq), unlike the films which do not present points of connection.
The work does not enjoy great fame despite the presence of world-renowned actors and an Oscar for costumes, which in its own small way is still publicity, ultimately not a masterpiece. And indeed, it remains an unmissable gem for enthusiasts of the genre but is simply a valid form of entertainment that only good cinema can offer to the rest of the audience.
"Death on the Nile" was released in 1978, two years after that "King Kong" which brought so much audience success to Guillermin. The story remains substantially faithful to the novel: a wealthy American woman, Linnet Ridgeway steals the fiancé from her former friend Jacqueline De Bellefort, who, due to the Wall Street crash, lost her fortune. The two get married and leave for their honeymoon, ruined by Jacqueline's constant and maniacal presence. During a cruise on the Nile, Linnet is found dead in her cabin from which some pearls have disappeared. Moreover, each of the passengers would have had a motive for killing her (Imagine that...). Through a series of clues and other suspicious deaths, the ever-present detective Hercule Poirot, along with his old friend Colonel Johnny Race, will manage to find the culprit.
In favor of the feature film is the perfect gallery of characters created by an excellent cast that manages to functionally arrange itself within the plot, sometimes coming to the forefront and sometimes momentarily stepping behind the scenes. In the role of Poirot this time is the great Peter Ustinov, who humorously revisits Christie’s fictional detective by mixing together smugness and clumsiness. Proceeding in order of appreciation, standout performances include Mia Farrow-Jacqueline who leaves nothing to be desired and proves to function even outside Allen’s clutches, Angela Lansbury, an elderly and eccentric writer of romance novels who confirms her theatricality, and Bette Davis, an aged American lady fond of jewelry accompanied by her maid, a bored Maggie Smith.
A snapshot of the high society of the 1930s, in short, that doesn't aim to take critical or revisionist positions. But at the center of the plot remains the interest in the mystery to be unveiled, a succession of events and ideas that lead directly to the final moment when the Belgian detective reveals the name of the murderer in the classic and essential gathering in a single room of all the characters, a moment when Poirot gives free rein to his superb and theatrical nature. All this is supported by the magnificent scenery, as grand as the music by Nino Rota, and an unexpected ending.
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