Celebrate the upcoming Murder on the Orient Express with these classics from two of England’s finest
The Archivist — Welcome to the Archive. As home video formats have evolved over the years, a multitude of films have found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Manufacture-On-Demand DVD operation devoted to thousands of idiosyncratic and ephemeral works of cinema. The Archive has expanded to include a streaming service, revivals of out-of-print DVDs, and Blu-ray discs (which, unlike the DVDs, are factory pressed rather than burned). Join us as we explore this treasure trove of cinematic discovery!
One of the more high-profile theatrical releases this month comes in the form of Kenneth Branagh’s lavish remake of Murder on the Orient Express. Based on the novel by Agatha Christie, the story is considered one of the greatest mysteries ever written and has been adapted a number of times, most famously in Sidney Lumet’s Oscar-winning 1974 version. Here Branagh pulls double duty as both director and star, taking on the iconic role of Detective Hercules Poirot, a tall order for ANY actor which the noted Shakespearean performer looks to have thrown himself into fully.
However the true area of fascination here will be the melding of two British artists as profound as Branagh and Christie. The latter’s reputation as one of the greatest novelists of all time remains unmatched thanks to her macabre sensibilities when it came to suspense which she always managed to mix with a strong sense of humanity. Meanwhile, the former remains one of Britain’s most revered film directors having achieved a resume full of projects as diverse as Thor and Much Ado About Nothing, honing in on each story’s grandness and soul. In this Archivist we take at look at past works from both Branagh and Christie (the comedy A Midwinter’s Tale and the mystery Ten Little Indians, respectively) which exemplified the kind of mastery each exuded on their way to becoming two of Britain’s greatest creative minds.
Ten Little Indians (1965)
The second theatrical adaptation of Christie’s other legendary mystery novel sees ten strangers all gathered together at a large isolated manor in the Swiss Alps. Each person has received a letter from someone they know inviting them for a weekend getaway to be hosted by a man named U.N. Owen. When the guests arrive, their host is nowhere to be found; instead a message is left stating he will be joining them after dinner. Not long after the meal has concluded, a man’s voice bellows from a recording announcing himself as Mr. Owen who proceeds to accuse each guest of being responsible for the death of someone from their past. Almost immediately, the guests begin dying off one at a time through methods inspired by the classic nursery rhyme “Ten Little Indians.” As the guests try and stay alive, it soon becomes clear that the Mr. Owen is one of them and must be unmasked before the weekend is over.
So much about Ten Little Indians and the changes made from the original novel greatly represents the decade in which it was made. This is particularly true in its casting with TV’s Wyatt Earp Hugh O’Brian, Bond girl Shirley Eaton, Sophia Loren knock-off Daliah Lavi and even pop star Fabian among the ensemble. The mix of established character actors such as Wilfrid Hyde-White and Stanley Holloway with then-up and coming talents such as Eaton (stunning as ever) and Fabian (whose crooning of the title song is the most 60s moment in the film) makes for a interesting combination of acting styles.Switching up the story’s setting from the English seaside to the Swiss Alps, changing the spinster character into a glamorous actress, throwing in a drawn-out fist fight and adding a racy love scene further deviate from Christie’s original text.
Despite all this, Ten Little Indians retains the dark nature of the author’s tale; ten strangers brought together for the simple purpose of meeting their own death. Watching the guests lounge around in luxurious trappings as one by one death comes for them according to the nursery rhyme is a juxtaposition that’s equal parts strange and suspenseful, particularly in the genuine mystery as to who really IS Mr. Owen. Ten Little Indians scored attention upon release for being the first murder mystery to offer up a “whodunnit break”- a 60 second pause featuring a collection of clues as to who the killer may be. The break is included as a DVD special feature and is made greatly unnerving thanks to its creepy narrator. The novel was adapted a further three times, with 2015’s sprawling miniseries being the darkest and most faithful. Altered ending aside, Ten Little Indians is the epitome of a crackling vintage murder mystery and one of the top Christie adaptations to have been made during her lifetime.
A Midwinter’s Tale (1995)
Branagh directed this instantly embraceable comedy which played on both his love of Shakespeare and his versatility as a director. When out-of-work actor Joe (Michael Maloney) gets fed up with his career being at a perpetual standstill, he makes a plan to recruit a collection of actors and take them back to his hometown of Hope where he intends to mount a Christmas production of Hamlet. Although his agent Margaretta (Joan Collins) is dismissive of this, Joe forges ahead with the help of his sister Molly (Hetta Charnley). As expected, things go horribly wrong from the start beginning with the slightly undesirable location the play is to take place. Things only go further downhill thanks to actor tantrums, financial obstacles, personal entanglements and the show’s hippie set designer Fadge (Celia Imrie). Yet Joe seems to be managing to hold it all together until a piece of news arrives which threatens to tear the entire production apart.
While A Midwinter’s Tale is often unjustly overlooked when thinking about Branagh’s directing career, the film never fails to win over anyone who sees it. Made in between the spectacle horror of 1994’s Frankenstein and just before Branagh would direct himself as the titular Hamlet in his grand 1996 re-telling, the filmmaker created this small, yet near-perfect film from his own script (his sole original screenplay effort). The two sides of the film (the show that the company puts on as well as the their efforts to actually put it on) both have their own share of laughs which come at rapid pace, one after the the other. There are plenty of pratfalls (all expertly timed), but the main source of laughter is in the whip-smart hilarity found in the dialogue, which is shared equally by each and every character. “It was late November,” Joe says at the film’s start. “I was thinking about the whole Christmas thing: the birth of Christ, The Wizard of Oz, family murders, and quite frankly, I was depressed.”
While it isn’t apparent, A Midwinter’s Tale makes for one of the most warm and affecting Christmas films of the 90s. There’s something so comforting and inspiring about this group of ruffians, who had no reason to ever meet, coming together and forming a bond during a time of the year when so many struggle with emotional connection. The fact that it’s handled in the most natural and organic ways thanks to Branagh’s script and direction makes it all the more powerful. A Midwinter’s Tale offers up the best from such British acting stalwarts like Maloney, Imrie, Nicholas Farrell, John Sessions and especially Julia Sawalha (who is equal parts hysterical and heartwarming). Collins shows a knack for comedy in her supporting role and there’s even a fun extended cameo from Jennifer Saunders. Simply one of the greatest treasures of British independent cinema ever made from one of its top filmmakers.
