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Starring Albert Finney, Sean Connery. Murder on the Orient Express has one of the most eerie, suspenseful, and engaging opening sequences that I have ever seen in a movie. While The Last Boyscout and Cliffhanger have downright shocking beginnings, and Die Hard with a Vengeance decided to pass over this option so it could get more explosions on screen, Murder on the Orient Express' director, Sidney Lumet, consciously chooses to open with an enchanting recreation of the Armstrong kidnapping case. Paralleling the manner in which I was grabbed by the opening of Smilla's Sense of Snow when a comet came crashing to earth, Lumet reaches out and yanks hold of your attention through a collection of newspaper clippings, still photos, dimly lit live action sequences about the Armstrong kidnapping, over the haunting and captivating score by Richard Rodney Bennett. With a different score, this opening wouldn't have worked so chillingly well; Bennett's composition was made for a dark, unsettling, murder mystery, that would keep the audience on the edges of their seats, feeling an underlining terror although there isn't any real reason for that at that point in time. The rest of this film has some trouble holding its own against that fantastic opening--the ending especially may come as a slight let down to some of you--but the film is just so well made that it's a lot of fun to watch. Albert Finney is annoyingly good as the lead, Agatha Christie's creation, Hercule Poirot, a detective with the style of Mr. Bean and the social skills of Lilleth from Cheers; elements that are put together with the end result of a weird, little master detective. Poirot is on the Orient Express, a train traveling from Istanbul to London. His timing, as a resourceful and high decorated detective, is immaculate, and shortly after departing from the train station, one gentleman drops dead on the train. This in itself might not be that strange--gentlemen have been known to drop dead on occasion--but before said gentleman's untimely passing, he had casually mentioned to Poirot that he suspected someone was trying to kill him. Set long before the advent of Dionne Warwick's Psychic Friends Network, Poirot realizes that something, possibly the game, is afoot, and feels compelled to do some investigation into the matter. This investigation consists mainly of examining the dead man's compartment, grumbling a little, and speaking with the twelve people on the train. Ten seconds or so after having conducted his last interrogation, Poirot has everything figured out--and when I say 'figured out' I mean that he's come up with things that I wouldn't have been able to perceive had I possessed the ability to read the suspects' minds like an open Dick and Jane book. If you are familiar with the Christie novel of the same name, from which the script is adapted, you won't be disappointed here. However, if you are coming into Murder on the Orient Express with a clean slate, be prepared to stretch your mind a little. I survived the most irritating, aggravating, arrogant, French character in recent times in Poirot, so I'm sure you can do the same. The production and cast, which includes Finney, Sean Connery, Ingrid Bergman, Anthony Perkins, Lauren Bacall, John Gielgud, and Jacqueline Bissett, are top notch, and with a fairly tight script by Paul Dehn, Murder on the Orient Express turns out to be a relatively entertaining movie, even if the explanation of the murder is a little weak.
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