The Alchemist, December 29th, 2009, Vol. 2, No. 106
Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes
The perspective of a life-long fan
Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law rejuvenate the characters Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, respectively, for a modern day audience in Guy Ritchie’s new film. The film, an exciting romp around dingy London, succeeds as both one of the most fun Sherlock films ever, and the most entertaining Ritchie film so far this decade.
Sure, just like with Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy there exists an endless amount of fans willing to pick apart the details of the umpteenth version of the story. This certainly is not an anomaly relegated to just treatments of British literature, but of entertaining literature worldwide. Still, like criticisms of ships and suits in the ever-changing British series Dr. Who, most complaints are based on favorite representations of, not deviations from, the original form.
So, jackets, pipes and hats aside (and yes, yes, those same hats off to Basil Rathbone for all of you who prefer your Holmes clean cut, your Watson an idiotic oaf) Ritchie and his team of writers really stayed true to the basic tenets of a Holmes story.
The movie takes place early in Holmes’ career when his job doesn’t pay all the rent, at a time when he is suffering from lack of stimulation. His last case revives itself, as it were, and Downey Jr., as Sherlock, throws himself whole-heartedly at the case, analyzing each and every little detail as he runs, jumps, sleuths, disguises, out-foxes and expertly boxes his way to success, all with a little help from his trusty co-hort Watson, with more than his average amount drink, and with Scotland Yard about five steps behind. Not much is absent, but something is missing.
‘It is cocaine,’ Sherlock once told Watson in 1890’s “The Sign of Four,” ‘a seven-per-cent solution. Would you care to try it?’
It is no great surprise that most preceding versions of the famous detective omit Holmes’ drug habits, cocaine and morphine, both quite legal in the England that Holmes is set in. Omitting the habit in a film treatment of this day and age could be incidental, but seems unlikely if you consider Ritchie’s previous works.
Warning: Spoilers mixed in from here on out.
This time, possibly a first for a serious take on the tale, Sherlock takes a genuine interest in his love interest. Rachel McAdams plays Irene Adler, a character penned by Arthur Conan Doyle who never had as big a part as in this movie. She does well as a character that impresses the detective and the audience in all the right ways. Another Doyle character in the movie that was never given much text outside of “The Sign of Four,” is Watson’s fiancé Mary Morstan, played up heavily to counterbalance the utilization of Adler.
A happy change is the rightful return of Dr. Watson, played by Jude Law, as a very capable man at all times, even after great injury. He is smart, handy, a crack-shot both with his pistol and his wit, and he is taller than Sherlock Holmes. Don’t waste too much time looking for it, it doesn’t look that way much in the ads or posters, and there aren’t many shots in the movie where they let you see it. When you spot it though, it’s just weird.
The bad guys in this film run the whole gambit: Live ones, dead ones, alive-again ones, feigners, short ones (a midget, technically), really, really large ones, and all manner in between all the way to the top. That’s right, fans of the original literature, the top: the head honcho of Holmesian crime.
Everyone plays their part expertly and the story draws to a conclusion that was decided long before the first keystroke that went into making this film. That’s right, the detective expertly explains away every little piece of the mystery to the ultimate pleasure of his audience.
Sherlock Holmes is playing at the Carmike Twelve, and the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle are on hand at bookstores and libraries everywhere.
RATING: A- ~
By Robin Canfield

















