Sherlock Holmes (2009)

Tagline: Nothing escapes him.

Curiosity: The guy from Iron Man, the director from Snatch, and some other people made a movie about Sherlock Holmes.

Plot: This ain’t your momma’s Holmes (except it sort of is?). Detective, martial artist, and nutjob Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) and his hetero life mate, the mustachioed gambling addict Dr. Watson (Jude Law), are in the middle of a trial separation after bringing down fellow nutjob Lord Blackwood (Sunshine’s Mark Strong). But they rejoin at the junk when Blackwood returns… FROM THE MOTHAHUGGIN’ GRAVE. This is bad, since 1) Blackwood promised Holmes that more people would die prior to his own hanging and 2) Watson totally pronounced Blackwood dead and now er’rybody is gonna think he’s a crappy doctor oh nos. Into this kafuffle enters Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams), the only lady to ever best Holmes… in bed (oh snap). She wants to help stop Blackwood, but she’s also got this thing? This thing involving a dark past and a mysterious employer? That might be important later.

Thoughts: Let me preface this by saying that I know it’s really the other way around, but holy crap Sherlock Holmes plays out like a bastard mix of the Batman films. Part Batman Begins’ gritty modernization (and, SPOILER ALERT, ending), part Tim Burton’s “I don’t really feel like establishing the characters or their relationships” original (but, alas, no Prince songs). I know, I know; Bob Kane cribbed the “world’s greatest detective” bit from Arthur Conan Doyle and then added a dash of Zorro. But through the magical world of cinema and adaptation, Holmes, a character that’s influenced the last 100 years of storytelling, comes off feeling a little hackneyed.

That’s not to say that Downey fails in the role, though. He actually kicks quite a bit of ass, and his chemistry with Law is delicious, even if his scenes with McAdams seem dead by comparison (I’d rather watch Batman and Catwoman go at it). Director Guy Ritchie highlights certain aspects of Doyle’s character directly from the books – he’s twitchy, neurotic, a good fighter, a better tactician, and just spastic enough that you’d believe he was a cocaine addict, just like in the books, even though the film never directly states whether or not Holmes is into drugs. Downey embodies these qualities perfectly. Same goes for Law – the film drops the bumbling Watson that originated in the ’30s for someone a bit more reliable, making Holmes something of a Victorian buddy cop picture.

But solid casting can’t quite save a sorry story. Holmes starts off exhilarating enough – scenes of Holmes planning out every minute step of a fight scene or two are welcome – but the movie eventually gets bogged down in exposition. It’s repetitive. Too much talking, not enough shirtlessness.

Yum!

Reflection: …I’m gonna see the sequel, though…