The Crooked House

After the death of patriarch Aristide Leonides, his granddaughter Sophia (Stefanie Martini) asks her former lover, private detective Charles Hayward (Max Irons) for help. He is to come to the family estate and investigate the other relatives. Because Sophia is convinced that her grandfather was murdered. But by whom? Naturally, suspicion initially falls on the much younger widow (Christina Hendricks) of the deceased. But it soon becomes clear to Charles that everyone in this family had a motive. When the killer strikes again, the young investigator must dig his sleuthing nose extra deep into a web of envy and intrigue to solve the case before there are any more victims.

The Crooked House is the film adaptation of a rather unknown novel by Agatha Christie. After their Murder on the Orient Express became a surprise hit last winter, this work, which was on TV in the UK about a year ago, is now coming to our cinemas. But the film doesn't do particularly well there. Sure, it is well cast and stylistically convincingly directed. But the thriller is overall just an extremely bland TV production, which has neither great show values, nor thrilling suspense to offer.

In places, the whole thing plods along so ponderously that Inspector Barnaby seems like Fast & Furious in comparison. The resolution, to be sure, is surprising and pleasantly consistent. But the whole thing ends so rushed and abrupt that the dramaturgically successful move can not even unfold its full effect. When the credits roll abruptly, some viewers might ask themselves: What, that's it? Hmmmm.

Sure, on a cold Sunday afternoon cozy on the couch at home, The Crooked House can work just fine. But for the trip to the cinema and the price of the ticket, the film simply offers too little to satisfy its audience. And that's why there's only one here: Conditionally worth seeing!

An article by Frankfurt-Tipp