Teresa Reviews “Murder on the Orient Express” (2010)

Teresa reviews “Murder on the Orient Express” (2010) and found this version forgot the true victims in the Daisy Armstrong case.

Fidelity to text: 3 1/2 knives

Add a suicide (caused by Poirot), a stoning (which he disregards), Ratchett supposedly repenting, and Col. Arbuthnot taking justice into his own hands.

Quality of movie on its own: 3 1/2 knives

Beautifully filmed, dressed, acted, and a terrific score. The train looks great! It’s nice to see stokers too, showing how trains are powered. But I didn’t like this Poirot.

Read more of Teresa’s Agatha Christie movie reviews at Peschel Press.

Also, follow Teresa’s discussion of these movies on her podcast.

David Suchet does a wonderful job portraying Poirot. He’s definitive and it’s hard now to think of anyone else being Poirot other than him. I’ve seen them all, so I can say, yes, David Suchet is Poirot.

Here, however, he’s not just grumpy over human foibles. He’s angry. He’s got reason to be, but at the same time, I couldn’t accept the climax in the bar car where he rants about individuals taking justice into their own hands. I believe what we’re seeing is Poirot being forced to see the limitations of human justice systems and the fact that humans are inherently messy and flawed. Expecting the perfectibility of humanity “if only everyone followed this set of rules” is an idiot’s game.

Why is Poirot a well-dressed ball of rage? The film opens with him solving a supposed murder in Palestine involving a British officer. The woman’s death was accidental but the officer with whom she’d been having an affair lied and lied and lied, thus complicating the investigation. Poirot (naturally) solves the crime and confronts the young, adulterous officer about his failings. The officer snatches a pistol and blows his brains out, spattering blood and brain matter on Poirot. If Poirot had been less harsh, would that have happened? Leaving the young officer’s wife a widow and probably penniless to boot? Maybe not.

Then, Poirot eavesdrops on Mary Debenham and John Arbuthnot in a souk in Istanbul. They watch a native woman being pursued by an angry mob led by her husband, intent on vigilante justice. She’s carrying another man’s child. An adulteress! The horror. Mary and John are appalled. Poirot is more sanguine because hey, it’s another culture and that woman knew the rules and transgressed anyway. Except that the Poirot we all know would realize that we don’t actually know that woman was an adulteress. We’re told that but people lie all the time. Maybe a jealous rival accused that woman. Maybe that woman’s husband was tired of her nagging and wanted a younger, hotter replacement. Maybe both. We only know what the angry mob is screaming and so that poor woman, in accordance with local cultural mores, is stoned to death.

At the hotel, Poirot can’t check in and relax. A message from Scotland Yard awaits, summoning him back to London ASAP. He meets M. Bouc, an acquaintance who’s high up in the Wagon-Lit food chain. M. Bouc gets Poirot a berth on the fully-booked Orient Express by having him take the bed belonging to someone who hasn’t arrived. Well. The train’s leaving and he’s in a hurry. Poirot boards and meets his new and unpleasant roommate.

He’s pissier than ever, drinking alone in the bar. Ratchett approaches like so many clients do, begging for help. Poirot doesn’t like him and turns him down. Much noise and shenanigans all night long, preventing him from sleeping, culminating in the train meeting an avalanche, losing power so everyone’s shivering in the dark and eating cold food, and the discovery of Ratchett’s body.

Poirot’s angry. He’s always angry when he’s cold and damp and a man he could have saved is dead because he chose not to. After all, murder is always wrong.

Isn’t it?

Except that in this case, Ratchett is really Cassetti, a notorious kidnapper and murderer.

I want to be very clear on this because virtually every review of Orient Express gets this wrong.

Ratchett didn’t only murder Daisy Armstrong!

He kidnapped her, then killed her within the hour. He never had any intentions of handing her over in exchange for the ransom. However, indirectly, he murdered five other people. Those people shouldn’t be forgotten. Who are they? Daisy’s unborn sibling. We’re never told whether Sonia (mom) was carrying Daisy’s brother or sister, but believe me, the obstetrician who delivered the grossly premature, guaranteed-to-die baby knew. So did Sonia and Colonel Armstrong. That baby counts. Sonia died soon thereafter. She counts. Grief and horror overwhelm Colonel Armstrong and he shoots himself. He counts. The French nursery maid is accused by the local police of aiding and abetting the kidnapper. She hangs herself in her cell. She counts. Her mother dies of grief. She counts.

Ratchett didn’t shoot them down in cold blood, but he murdered them just the same.

Similarly, he darkened the lives of everyone connected to the Armstrong family. Grandma. Godmother. Sister. Brother-in-law. Best friend. Valet. Governess. Cook. Chauffeur (and lover of French nursery maid). French nursery maid’s father. Obstetrician. Son of bought-off prosecuting attorney. And these are just the people whose stories we’re told! Any murder victim’s family will be happy to tell you how far out the grief spreads, how it never dies, and how often the justice system ladles on still more punishment.

It’s perfectly understandable why these twelve people plot Ratchett’s execution. The state, which they relied on, found him innocent of kidnapping and murder. We’re told the prosecutor mishandled the case. I’d suggest that the judge and the jury were also either bought off or intimidated into letting Ratchett go free.

The Armstrong family and friends were denied justice. As though they didn’t matter. What are they supposed to do?

I understand Poirot complaining about vigilante justice, especially after seeing that woman stoned. He’s always been on the side of the law. Except, of course, when he’s not. I’m thinking particularly of Dead Man’s Folly. He lets abettor Amy Folliat and her murdering son take the easy way out. They aren’t hauled off to face the Crown. Did the Tucker family get justice for Marlene and Old Merdell? No, they did not. They’re peasants so I suppose they don’t matter.

I can accept Poirot having a crisis of conscience. I can’t accept his open cruelty to people who’ve suffered terribly and who will continue to suffer terribly until the day they die. Clearly, compared to crystal pure, abstract justice, they don’t matter.

And for those who claim that Ratchett was repenting?

Because you saw him on his knees in prayer? Um, no. This is where atheist Hollywood gets Christianity wrong again, as, sadly, so do many believers. First, he does not as for forgiveness, nor demonstrate atonement. Second, many people go through the motions of praying (it looks the same) but they’re behaving as though a prayer is like dropping a coin into a vending machine. Put in the coin, get the candy bar of your choice. Say the prayer and get forgiven. As though atonement, repentance, and changed behavior aren’t required!

Nothing else in Ratchett’s behavior showed that he’d gotten religion. He creeps on Mary Debenham. He’s rude to his secretary and valet. I agree he was sorry. Sorry he got caught and sorry his life was being threatened. Sorry over murdering Daisy and five other people? No, you didn’t hear a single word about them in his prayer. Because they didn’t matter.

They do matter. And so do the Armstrong family and friends, something this version seems to have forgotten.