SHERLOCK HOLMES review: where did that come from?

SHERLOCK HOLMES review: where did that come from?

Dec 30

I think the character of Sherlock Holmes is perennially popular for one reason in particular. Everyone likes to think that they could be just as smart and brilliant and witty as Holmes, with a little training and a small change in lifestyle. The formula laid down by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in writing the Holmes books (of which I have read precisely zero) helps people delude themselves into believing this: all the details and facts are laid out through the course of the narrative, and at the end Holmes just sifts through the red herrings and joins the dots, and you say “Yeah, of course, I saw that too, I just didn’t make the connection because I haven’t been trained as a supersleuth like Sherlock over here.” Channelling someone else’s brilliance boosts our own ego for some reason, and we harbour a secret pride at being nearly as smart as Holmes, though we wisely keep this revelation to ourselves.

What little of the classic Holmes whodunnit formula I know (garnered from the endless procession of works Doyle influenced, and a handful of, er, Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes, cough, cough) seems to have been translated perfectly into screenplay form by Sherlock Holmes’ myriad writers and story editors and consultants and whatnot (there are a lot of writing credits on this film). The classic tentpole formula of western filmmaking is adhered to strictly here, but it’s packed dense with extended scenes of ludic wit, classic mystery storytelling, universally strong performances, and with just enough charm and bluster to be an almost undeniably good time at the multiplex.

Let’s start with Robert Downey, Jr. When casting on this film was first announced I can’t say I was overly excited by Downey’s inclusion, especially in the lead role. This was coming off his ruffled, alcoholic, womanising, hedonistic (and quintessentially American) playboy performance in Iron Man, and while a tiny spark of Stark’s character carries over to Downey’s Holmes, the character is thankfully mostly original. You can tell just by looking in Downey’s eyes that Holmes takes sheer thrill in solving mysteries like that posed by baddie Blackwood, and almost equal thrill in keeping his nefarious methods and plans exclusively to himself, to the exasperation of long-suffering off-sider Watson. Another facet of Holmes’ personality I enjoyed is his unabashed secularism in the face of supernatural bullshit – was Sherlock Holmes the first atheist hero in fiction? Awesome. Overall Downey’s performance is indeed worth the price of admission alone, but thankfully there’s more to Holmes than just the star.

Rachel McAdams pops up right on cue and effortlessly pulls off the goddess role dictated by western storytelling. As Irene Adler she’s smart, beautiful, independant and –crucially — genuinely useful in the climactic showdown. She can do something the boys can’t, and that helps save the day — isn’t it nice when women get something meaningful to do in a movie? (Atheism and feminism in a single film — overwhelming success for humanism and civilisation, surely, and a step in the right direction for the cultural future.) Sure she’s a career criminal but the only visual evidence we have of that is when she swindles a lesser, petty criminal, painting her in a kind of Robin Hood-ish light. Her American accent, dictated by character, jars with the crisp, almost unbearably polite parlour prattle of the surrounding Brits, but I guess someone in the movie had to be American or the yanks wouldn’t have bothered leaving their La-Z-Boys to see it, right? (This is a judgment of Warner Bros., not Americans themselves.) Oh, and you’ll probably be disappointed to hear that the corset scene promised in the trailer is entirely absent from the final film (unless like me you care more about character and plot than selling sex appeal); perverts will have to wait for the Blu-Ray/DVD release.

And then there’s Jude Law as Watson, arguably the protagonist of the film. He gets more of a story arc than Holmes, who merely thrills in the chase and therefore can’t be stopped when it comes to unsolved mysteries. Watson, by comparison, has a real life to think about — job, fiancee, reputation and peace of mind, all of which are deliberately undermined by the manipulative Holmes, but at the end of the day Watson still consciously decides to help his old friend Holmes, which contributes to his likeability as a character. Law’s performance is fine, and his role as foil to Holmes is vital and played accordingly. Every back-and-forth string of dialogue between the pair is like music to a wit-deprived audience’s ears, and serves to build a layer of entertainment beyond the already complex, intellectually- and emotionally-engaging plot that is usually completely absent in most films.

Meanwhile we get the deliciously diabolical Mark Strong as Lord Blackwood, mastermind villain behind the film’s vaguely sinister plot. Strong has made a name for himself playing genre villains, and his silky, almost-charming delivery suits this film to a tee, and works as a great genuine bad-guy foil to Holmes’ vaguely-disinterested misanthropism. There are a smattering of second-fiddle performances that are all exemplary — Eddie Marsan as the comparitively incompetent chief of police is sufficiently frustrated to be amusing — and the world of Holmes is wonderfully realised by the performances of all concerned.

The other major character in the film is late 19th century London. It’s gritty, ugly, violent and extremely dull to look at. Red is reserved exclusively for scenes with McAdams’ Adler (Spielberg called again, yelled something incoherent and irate about thinking of your own original colour scheme for once, you cowards, come on, I dare you, and then proceeding to smash some bottles and yell a bit more before hanging up), and the film suffers visually from the sucked-dry post-production grading passed over the whole film. It’s about as ugly as Zombieland, which did pretty much exactly the same thing, and while some scenes are relatively bright they’d still be dull and flat in comparison to other films. I don’t get why filmmakers can’t show us ugly without actually showing us ugly — it’s already full of dirty, gritty set design and colour palettes even before you drain the life out of it in post. Another thing that irked me is the way the film was shot in 16:9 instead of true Scope. I get 16:9 on my telly at home, Ritchie, how about you give me a treat when I go to the cinema and frame your film in gorgeous 2.40:1? Sure it’s a petty gripe, and I got over it pretty quickly, but it lessens the cinematic impact of the film in an indirect way.

Then there’s the violence. It actually seems context-appropriate and definitely contributes to the earthy, gritty tone of the film, but using violence as the hook of your film raises eyebrows. Our first introduction to Holmes shows us meticulously planning a vicious attack on a hapless guard, which involves damaged vocal chords, cracked ribs, and a ruined kneecap. Sure, Holmes is brilliant and misanthropic, and showing every blow in excruciating slow-mo close-up puts us on edge (what further violence is going to be inflicted on us? we ask), but the kind of violence Ritchie seems to be aiming for is at odds with the studio’s chosen demographic. Like Ritchie wanted to really immerse us in a realistically ugly depiction of 19th century violence, but the studio stepped in an whined about it being too violent for the unwashed masses, and we ended up with an awkward compromise somewhere between overly brutal and overly soft.

Other than this aesthetic faux pas, though, the film is genuinely fun to watch. There is one action scene right on the second / third act threshold that, even though it probably only lasts about 60 seconds, is easily more compelling than the entire 160-odd minutes of Avatar. It is purely visual, but it is envisioned and pulled off in a unique, sensible and emotionally engaging way. It serves a pleasant reminder of exactly what film is capable of, especially this kind of big-budget blockbuster film. I love the way Ritchie opted for open, slow-motion, everything-in-one-shot filmmaking instead of the usual hyperactive music video over-cutting bullshit employed by every other mid-to-high level Hollywood film director. I’ve always been a proponent of this style, so seeing it pulled off with such aplomb and style is fundamentally satisfying to me, and helps put Sherlock Holmes in its place as a unique, new breed of film.

It remains for me to cover the bad points of the film, and rest assured there are a few. First and foremost is a dreadful pair of dead scenes right in the middle of the film. After a wickedly fast, fun and ludic first act (and a half) we hit a dead end in the form of clunky, stuffy exposition scenes. There are only two, but they are both too long and, worst of all, placed back-to-back in the film, and temporarily halt the whipping pace set by prior scenes. They encompass some weird shit about a centuries-old magical society that is somehow implicated in the plot, but you can tell Ritchie doesn’t care about it either, because the scenes are shallow and perfunctory, almost like they were mandated by the studio or a cranky plot contributor instead of being genuinely vital to the film. Another problem is that some characters — important ones, like Watson and Adler — come and go without any explanation. It’s distracting in a minor way, especially towards the end of the film, but it’s not too bad. My final gripe only came to my mind once while watching, but it was a depressing thought. A couple of the crime scene / investigative / revelatory / flashback scenes (you know the type) seem vaguely remeniscent of similar scenes from a godawful gutter-trash TV show like CSI. Like I said, this only occurred to me once or twice, but the way revelations and flashbacks are dealt with might seem annoyingly familiar to you and jar with the canny style employed by the rest of the film.

Overall I found Sherlock Holmes to be extremely fun and satisfying to watch, and how much more can you really ask for in a blockbuster film? Sure it’s a little nasty, but its misanthropism is endearing rather than alienating (up yours, James Cameron); sure it’s a little dull colour-wise, but the bravura action scenes make up for this and then some; sure the script hits every single tentpole in Screenwriting 101, but there’s a reason why there’s a formula — it works. The ending sets up a sequel, and instead of being disappointed by this typical studio move, I was actually genuinely excited by the introduction of the next villain: one case is closed, a new one is opened, and a bit like Star Trek earlier this year, now that the characters have been set up I’m really looking forward to the filmmakers going nuts in the inevitable darker second act of the franchise. Ritchie really nailed this one, his first big studio compromise, and I’m happy to admit I was pleasantly surprised by how awesome his movie is.

Sherlock Holmes score

83 out of 100

A couple of quick post-notes — did anyone else think of Donkey Kong / Jump Man when the big guy lifted the barrel over his head and threw it at the little guy? Did anyone else think inexorably of Star Trek‘s awkward Holmes-inspired episodes when Downey demands “Data, data, data!”? I’m curious as to whether fellow filmgoers make unsolicited connections like this to things from their past.