Le 'Stache

A hair-raising cinematic origin story.

The funniest feedback I received from last Saturday’s edition of Celebrity Side Hustlers came in the form of a question: Was this year’s Death of the Nile remake really that bad?

I’d referenced it in passing, mostly focusing on how I’d found Gal Gadot and Armie Hammer’s onscreen coupling to be the opposite of sex, my own personal Jesus Effing Christ.

And the answer was yes. It’s just terrible. I will watch it again a thousand times.

I watched its premiere in February and its hilariously bloated, high budget mediocrity was the balm my tortured soul needed, like a root woman drawing poison from your wound by surrounding it with a foul-smelling poultice.

I’ve cranked it up on HBO Max maybe seven times since then, using its strangely comforting background cacophony to keep me company—and keep me from losing my shit—during another deeply stupid work (from home) day.

I will watch it again for the same reasons, but also because an acquaintance refuses to call it Death on the Nile, instead referencing three of its controversial cast members by dubbing it A Cannibal, An Israeli Soldier, and a Vaccine Denier Walk Into a Bar on a Movie Set. If you know, you know.

And you laugh really hard. The budget is as bloated as the corpses that turn up every 30 minutes and you can see every gorgeous penny on the screen. But the actors, my god, the actors. I hope you’re not a vegetarian because all they’re serving is….

And talented thespians like Annette Bening, Sophie Okonedo, and Emma Mackey chew so much scenery I wondered what the Screen Actors Guild dental plan was like.

I will watch it again because if you google the remake, the first People Also Ask question is Is Death on the Nile worth watching? And the answer is liverwurst, because that’s the kind of movie it is.

I’m also contractually obligated to watch it because I think Agatha Christie’s mysteries are terrible. Yeah, I said it. But the plots. The plots are so much fun! They’re the only books and short stories I know that benefit from even the lamest, most overly confident screenwriter murmuring, “Oh, I can do better than this.”

Also, I am a ho bag for actor David Suchet’s Masterpiece Mystery approved, persnickety and rotund Hercule Poirot, Christie’s greatest creation. (Sorry, Miss Marple.) But I have cheated on him with John Malkovich (!!) and Death on the Nile’s Kenneth Branagh with strange yet satisfying results.

Puffs on a cigarette….

The best part of Death on the Nile though? They gave Poirot’s signature mustache an origin story.

I’m not sure you heard me.

They gave Poirot’s signature mustache an origin story!

It’s giving, “…and starring Hirsute McHairyson as Le ‘Stache.” And I’m here and hair for it.