Review of Murder on the Orient Express (1974) by Kristin H — 31 Aug 2010

Sidney Lumet's best filmmaking was done during the 1970s with Dog Day Afternoon, Serpico, Network, Equus, and this glittering all-star whodunit drawn from the most esteemed novel of the undisputed empress of murder mysteries, Dame Agatha Christie.

Unlike subsequent Peter Ustinov ventures (John Guillermin's Death on the Nile and Guy Hamilton's Evil Under the Sun), Lumet works with no lush tropical vistas or decadent resorts; the confinement of the storyline to, essentially, two snowbound train coaches presents major technical and narrative complications, but the film runs smoothly and elegantly through the mire of inquiries and interviews.

The cast is, on the whole, excellent, though some performances are outstanding: Dame Wendy Hiller is obviously having a ball as the sterile, powdered old Pekingese Princess Dragomiroff; Rachel Roberts is a hoot as uber-Deutsche Hildegarde Schmidt; Lauren Bacall chews the scenery and her fair share of bubble gum as Mrs.

Harriet Belinda Hubbard; veteran character actor George Coulouris is a frazzled Dr. Constantine; and Anthony Perkins, seemingly unable to escape revoltingly Oedipal casting ventures, delivers a strong performance as the twitchy Hector Macqueen.

Jean-Pierre Cassel does some fine and particularly outstanding nuanced acting as the steward Pierre-Paul Michel, and Richard Widmark provides some villainous grease and slime as Mr. Ratchett (although one can only imagine what Sterling Hayden could have done with the role).

Albert Finney, of course, milks every moment as Hercule Poirot, both fastidious and compassionate, from the crème de menthe to the hairnet and moustaches-curlers. Richard Rodney Bennett channels Max Steiner and Franz Waxman with an Old World Hollywood extravaganza of a musical score.