This awkward by-the-numbers slasher wouldn’t have stood up to scrutiny three decades ago and falls desperately short in an era where elevated horror has become the norm.

True, it’s a clever loophole the director has exploited, but that’s as far as it goes. Blood And Honey is a sticky mess of a movie.

Honestly, this film is so terrible it makes the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy look like high art. The review’s lone star is for the location manager who criss-crossed Europe to find all the blandly luxurious pads that this soulless nonsense unfolds in.

Less a balanced exposé than a tabloid scoop played for shocks, the film never even bothers to ask why any of this might have happened.

None of the characters have meaningful motives – and they’re so thinly drawn that they’re almost transparent.

Flashy enough for pantomime but lacking the sense of fun, the rest of the film follows Branagh’s journey into dull excess, with Christie’s cracking whodunnit deafened by the camerawork and deadened by lazy writing.