Rian Johnson’s Knives Out arrives like a stylishly retro thump in the night, a throwback to overstuffed Agatha Christie–style thrillers like Murder on the Orient Express. Nimble and witty, the film is packed with nudges, winks, and plot twists. The only drawback is that too much of the action and thrills take place on the periphery and not at the center where they belong.

Best-selling author Hugh Thrombey (an avuncular and charming Christopher Plummer) has gathered his large clan for a birthday party in the family manse, a Victorian pile crammed to the rafters with colorful knickknacks and a giant menacing knife sculpture that establishes production design as one of the movie’s stars. The all-celebrity cast hams it up as cartoon villains who conceal grasping needs beneath assured, brittle surfaces; standouts include Jamie Lee Curtis and Don Johnson as a sleazy couple, Toni Collette as a spray-tanned New Age charlatan, and Chris Evans’s arrogant preppie wastrel. Everyone’s sucking up to the old man with an eye toward his money, and the air practically curdles with intrigue and desperation.

The only honorable individual in this collection of rascals is Hugh’s sweet young Latina nurse, Marta (Ana de Armas), the one person who attends to his needs without an ulterior motive. Administering Hugh’s medicine, Marta accidentally and lethally poisons the old man in a fast-paced and disturbing scene that kicks off the whodunit at the movie’s core. Once Hugh dies, enter a trio of kooky detectives led by Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig, laying on a Southern drawl thicker than tar). An already tense atmosphere erupts in rage when the family discovers that Hugh has left his multimillion-dollar fortune to the young innocent. McGuffins, red herrings, and wild goose chases ensue as the family tries to coerce the money from Marta and Blanc pursues the murderer.

Much has been made of the film’s political subtext, where the Thrombeys condescend to Marta and bungle her origins while hypocritically deploring President Trump. These exchanges aren’t a major part of the movie, but they do reinforce how awful the characters are. And therein lies a problem: these campy dastards are more colorful and interesting than the ingénue at the movie’s core. As Marta, de Armas has little to do in an underwritten part other than widen her eyes and look scared. It’s revealing that the trailer cuts almost entirely around de Armas and pumps up the film’s juicy supporting cast. 

Knives Out is enjoying a good run, so I’m hoping that any eventual sequel focuses on the connivers and slimeballs at its edges rather than the goody-two-shoes at its center. Maybe it could be called Knaves Out.