The third installment of Kenneth Branagh’s Poirot series, based on the lesser-known novel, Hallowe’en Party, seems to truly find its footing in playing with suspense rather than the typical detective mystery. It feels fresh where the previous film, Death on the Nile, felt sluggish and lost. Unfortunately, by shifting to a more horror/thriller rhythm, the actual detective stuff (finding clues and deducing motives) takes a backseat, which is a problem when your movie is about the second-greatest detective ever put to film (sorry, folks, but the top spot is forever secured by the great Jacques Clouseau).

Kenneth Branagh feels more confident as a Hercule Poirot without confidence than one with. Poirot, in this film, has dropped the arrogance and replaced it with PTSD and the fear that he’s now a has-been. I can’t say whether or not this is accurate to the source material – Hallowe’en Party is towards the back end of Agatha Christie’s extensive catalogue, and I am very slowly making my way through all of them – but I can say it makes the usually-abrasive Poirot a more sympathetic figure. The supporting cast of characters are a mixed bag, but there are some true winners here. Tina Fey shines as the author, Ariadne Oliver, as does Kelly Reilly (of Yellowstone fame) as Rowena Drake.

Rowena Drake is a grieving mother. Her daughter supposedly committed suicide the previous year, but the rumor is that it was actually a murder. Of course, such rumors fly in a house that is haunted by the spirits of several children who were locked in the house long ago, left to die. The rest of the people at the house are tied, one way or another, to the deceased or the house itself, and they plan to spend the night locked in the house to experience a seance from the great Joyce Reynolds (the ever-amazing Michelle Yeoh), who claims she can speak with the deceased Alicia Drake. However, things take a turn when the Medium, Reynolds, unexpectedly falls from a balcony. From there on, it’s up to the great Hercule Poirot to solve the two deaths.

The film is meant to spook and keep you on the edge of your seat, but it also meditates on grief and loss. The stakes feel more personal than the previous films because of it. To increase those feelings, the film is full of dim lighting and uncomfortable close-ups. It fits the mood perfectly.

However, as I previously said, the tone of the film overshadows the actual story. Some of the characters are just there and never really seem invested in what’s going on. There are a few twists along the way as the story unfolds, but the conclusion isn’t a big surprise. And as far as that goes, the film may be at fault for how we get to the end, but it’s not necessarily to blame for that lackluster conclusion in and of itself. That can be blamed on circumstance. Murder on the Orient Express is probably the most famous Poirot mystery because the solving of the case is so unexpected and interesting. And because of this, it makes sense why it was the first story filmed, and also that the case for any mystery to follow would be found wanting. Honestly, there won’t be another shocker until (and if) they do The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, although I’m not sure if that twist ending will translate to film very well.

In the end, there is plenty to love about this movie, especially if you like the previous installments, but if you’re not a fan, you may find yourself not caring or getting bored. As of my writing this, there’s no confirmation on whether or not they will continue to make these, but if they don’t, this is a great conclusion to the series. If they keep at it, they run the risk of petering out. Sometimes, it’s best to quit while you’re ahead. The death knells toll for all.