Sherlock Holmes (2009)

It’s been over 60 years since Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce delivered their final, iconic big-screen portrayals of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Since then, variations have included a bumbling, drunken Holmes (Michael Caine), a cocaine-addled Holmes (Nicol Williamson), and a delusional man who believed himself to be fiction’s greatest detective (George C. Scott). While many of these films would draw critical approval, none have generated the obscene level of box-office success needed for a follow-up. That’s about to change if director Guy Ritchie and star Robert Downey, Jr. have their way.

Sherlock Holmes, the latest contribution to the growing mythos originally penned by Arthur Conan Doyle, is crafted with one eye firmly fixed on the almighty sequel. While not based on any of the previous novels or short stories, it does incorporate established characters and situations into a sort of cinematic stew. The results, while occasionally tasty, often leave the viewer with the feeling that the Hollywood cookbook was consulted on one too many occasions.

As the film begins, Holmes (Downey) and his forthright partner, Dr. Watson (Jude Law), foil the Satanic designs of Lord Henry Blackwood (Mark Strong). The villain apprehended and sentenced to hang, Holmes lapses into a period of melancholy, while Watson considers leaving the detective game for a respectable medical practice and marriage to the lovely Mary Morstan (Kelly Reilly). But the game is soon afoot, as Blackwood is executed and subsequently rises from the dead. With the body count rising, Holmes and Watson must join forces to stop the black magician and a plot that threatens to throw the world into chaos. Further complicating Holmes’ life is the appearance of Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams), a pretty American crook (and former flame) who’s in the employ of a figure both shadowy and murderous.

In the hands of Robert Downey, Jr., Sherlock Holmes is transformed from a cold, analytical curmudgeon into a Bohemian savant. Think Tony Stark if he were poor, manic depressive, and living in 19th century London. It’s hardly a stretch for the actor, but he does manage to imbue his character with a mad artistic zeal that will keep audiences rooting for him well into Sherlock Holmes: Part 2.

While Downey’s skill at portraying charismatic oddballs serves him well as Holmes, the actor’s British accent leaves something to be desired. It’s thin, to put it kindly, although not quite as anorexic as Kevin Costner’s in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. While it hints at Holmes’ English origins, it’s not enough to make American audiences think of this as a “foreign” film. This is a PG-13 film, after all, meaning it will draw many of the same discerning cinephiles who threw away money on Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. Don’t alienate your audience: that’s page one of the Hollywood cookbook.

If there is a standout among the cast, it’s Jude Law as Dr. Watson. Gone is the Nigel Bruce portrayal of Watson as a bumbling fool. Instead, Watson is a doctor, former soldier and steadfast companion to Holmes, which is more in keeping with the original source material. Unflappably British, Watson is a man of action only slightly hampered by a limp and his Hippocratic Oath. He seems far more at home in the period setting than the rest of the cast.

Mark Strong is criminally underused as the sinister Lord Blackwood, and this is one of the film’s major failings. Despite his ability to rise from the dead and set men on fire, Strong isn’t given enough time to develop his character beyond that of a stock villain. He looks great in the part, to be sure, but anyone who’s seen his work in Fever Pitch or Body of Lies knows him to be capable of more.

To rise above the level of a simple popcorn movie, Sherlock Holmes needed a villain who could match its hero on all fronts, including the affections of the audience. Case in point: Hans Gruber in Die Hard. But while Alan Rickman was given considerable time to develop his character on the screen, Strong is ushered in and out as nothing more than a scowling plot device.

And speaking of plot devices, there’s Rachel McAdams in the role of Irene Adler. While the part is drawn from a character mentioned frequently in the works of Arthur Conan Doyle, her presence here is strictly to provide a few fleeting moments of romance, allow the male heroes to save a damsel in distress, and, more importantly, to set up the much-hoped-for sequel. If all the time devoted to Adler and her mysterious employer had been allocated to Strong, the resulting product would’ve been the better for it. Instead, we’re saddled with a female role that’s underwritten and perfunctory (yet another recipe lifted straight from the ‘ol Hollywood cookbook). It’s the equivalent of product placement, but instead of trying to sell Coke or Pepsi, Sherlock Holmes is trying to sell the sequel before the first film is even at the halfway point.

Director Guy Ritchie moves away from his usual material involving likable crooks and grifters, but elements such as eccentric outsiders and the big con still remain. His love for the out-of-nowhere slow motion shot also remains, and it manifests as something I like to call “Holmes Vision.” Prior to performing a number of actions, we’re shown a glimpse inside Holmes’ frenzied mind as he works them out to their logical conclusion. His calculations complete, we then watch our hero carry out the actions in regular speed. The same goes for feats of deduction, as numerous flashbacks show Holmes finding small clues that later lead to major revelations.

I was convinced that a final showdown with Blackwood would see the hero use his “Holmes Vision,” work out a clear path to victory, and then be thwarted at the last second. It would make Blackwood appear more capable, and, by extension, Holmes more brilliant for inevitably defeating him. But no such twist was to be found. In the end, the foresight used when Holmes prepares to unleash his hand-to-hand prowess is nothing more than an excuse to show a fight segment twice.

But at least the slow motion fisticuffs can actually be followed. Ritchie and editor James Herbert combine to reduce every action scene filmed in normal speed to nothing more than a jumble of images. With so many cuts, there’s nothing to do except blindly sip your soft drink and wait for the hero to get his inevitable win. What happens before that is a mystery fit for, well, you know who.