Girl look how orange you fuckin look.
The first ten minutes of Death on the Nile are an artistic black-and-white origin story for Hercule Poirot’s mustache. Later, we see that he sleeps wearing a custom-made face mask in the shape of said mustache. “Enough already about the mustache,” I thought, but I was wrong. It was worth it. There is a payoff to all the mustachery. The mustache is the crux of Poirot’s greatest mystery of all, that of his own broken heart.
The pleasure of a great whodunnit (and nearly all of Agatha Christie’s whodunnits are great) is in the noticing of things, and there’s lots to notice in
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