The very first words uttered in the waste of a whodunnit See How They Run are those of a name: Agatha Christie. It is the beginning of many invocations of the writer and her legacy that the story seems sporadically interested in. In fact, Christie exists in the film's world yet is largely invisible even as her play The Mousetrap serves as its centerpiece. It all begins on the night of the 100th performance of said play in London's West End in 1953. While this is a supposed moment of celebration, the prologue shows a telegram that reveals Christie "decided not to come to party." It is soon obvious that she has the right idea. And we ought to follow her example as this film, save for a few fun performances, is painfully aching for any hint of a spark.
The character who first speaks Christie's name is the arrogant Leo Köpernick (Adrien Brody), who is planning to write a film adaptation of her play. Brody channels the despicability of his character from Wes Anderson's The Grand Budapest Hotel as he narrates over the opening all the way up to his own murder. His body is then found on stage, and it appears that the killer tried to pull out his tongue. Enter the intrepid Constable Stalker (played by another Anderson collaborator in Saoirse Ronan) and reserved Inspector Stoppard (embodied by a more somber Sam Rockwell, in a performance that only leaves one reminiscing for his work in 2009's Moon), who will have to piece together who is behind the crime. Despite both actors being as sharp as ever, the film falls into a dullness that it never escapes. Trapped between silly spoof and shallow imitation, it is a perplexing picture that lacks any punch.
From a visual perspective, there is an attempt to inject some flair to the presentation. One might be tempted to compare it to the style of the aforementioned Anderson based on a few quirks here and there — from the scattered use of split screen to some overhead shots. But director Tom George is not as precise in bringing these visuals to life, and the fact that he has mostly worked in television is abundantly clear. There is no grand vision or cinematic panache beyond occasional interjections that lack a broader sense of imagination.
As for the story, it ventures to have a bit of a go at our expectations for a murder mystery. It sprinkles in some fourth wall breaking that is more hollow than humorous as it never fully commits to jumping into the absurdity. While there are a few gags that work, most don't, as the rest of the experience plays everything straight. For all the ways screenwriter Mark Chappell gestures at creating a send-up of the murder mystery, the manner in which he approaches the material becomes oddly adversarial. It all makes for an uneven tone as it relies on many common narrative foundations while also trying to chip away at them. There is even one moment that hints at the film going in a more bold direction, but it passes all too quickly.
One of the film's characters describes the play as being in "purgatory," and it proves to be an equally apt description of See How They Run itself. For every convention it tears down, it telegraphs several more. This is meant to be comedic, yet it is far more cutesy than it ever is clever. Even the ending is spelled out in nearly exact detail, robbing it of any real suspense or emotional impact. This is made worse by how the various suspects are only sketches of characters, floating in and out with occasional storylines that all soon fade into the background. By the time all the pieces fall into place, it ends up feeling like more of a shrug than a real surprise. While Ronan and Rockwell are always a joy to see on screen, this is a case not worth solving. ♦
See How They Run
