I've never rated thespian icon Kenneth Branagh as either an actor or a director - the only time I have really liked anything he's done was in a Harry Potter movie. So after his turgid Murder on the Orient Express hit every bum note I expected from him, and completely ignored the electric Agatha Christie rebirth of Knives Out, I nearly avoided this one entirely, bad reviews and all. I'm glad I didn't, after a first hour that resembles the previous film as well as other vacuous, overly glossy work like The Great Gatsby, the film and characters became far more compelling - leading to a fairly thrilling second half. There it became far more alive and even injected some much needed grit - the same goes for Branagh's performance of Hercule Poirot.
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