What happens when a classic Agatha Christie story is reimagined with the memory of war lingering behind it?

Was patriotism in the First World War really shared by all, or was it shaped and enforced from above?

What does the First World War look like when it arrives not as a battle, but as an invasion of home, family, and childhood?

What does the First World War look like when the story is driven not by battles, but by loss, hope and unanswered questions?

Can a film about the First World War work without trenches or battles?

Can a story about soldiers shaking hands in the snow carry a warning for the nuclear age?