Sherlock Holmes, sort of

Director Guy Ritchie has co-opted a literary classic with his intermittently amusing and irritating Sherlock Holmes. The original stories are no more than a jumping-off point for the filmmaker, and the sedate, ennui-afflicted detective is hardly recognizable in Ritchie's fantastical rendering of the much-loved series.

In fact, Arthur Conan Doyle is credited merely with creating the characters of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. To be fair, there is a good deal more essence of the author present than that. Characters quote dialogue straight from the stories in many places; Holmes proclaims, "My mind rebels at stagnation," for example, and, "Crime is common; logic is rare."

But, in the end, the many allusions to the Conan Doyle series amount to so much window dressing. Robert Downey Jr.'s interpretation of Holmes as a martial arts master and swashbuckling rogue is hardly what one imagines when reading the original stories.

And that's just fine. Ritchie's film - however fast and loose it plays with the source material - is engaging and entertaining. It's less a paean to science and the powers of deductive reasoning than a rollercoaster ride of blockbuster proportions.

From the beginning, the film is kinetic and thrilling, delving into a crypt-like hall where an attempted human sacrifice is in progress. It's all very Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, both in terms of the excessive portrayal of dark rituals and its theme-park-ride point of view, featuring, as it does, camera angles that resemble tipping over the edge of the falls at Disneyland's Splash Mountain. Bare-knuckle boxing sequences with little or no relevance to the plot are nonetheless interesting, filmed a la Fight Club, with a gritty aesthetic and freeze-frame edits. Much chasing and eluding ensues, and the hijinks culminate in an exciting duel atop Tower Bridge - still under construction, as the period dictates - that is more reminiscent of Pirates of the Caribbean than the intellectual pursuits of the mercurial Holmes.

The script itself is almost incidental. Apparently drafted by committee (five writers are officially credited), the whodunit aspect is a nonstarter. We know from the get-go who our villain is going to be, and the unsurprising plot twist in the film's final reels is little more than a setup for the inevitable sequel.

The tale told here is one of secret societies and so-called black magic, ultimately revealed as so much smoke and mirrors. There are plots to terrorize Parliament, re-conquer the United States and unveil a quasi-Masonic order as the true source of political and economic power in the British Empire. In a word, it's ridiculous. But with Jude Law and Downey Jr. playing off one another amid sparkling special effects, it doesn't really matter.

For fans of the two actors, it almost goes without saying that they're fantastic in tandem. Law, in particular, demonstrates the discipline and dexterity to avoid upstaging our protagonist, waiting patiently for the odd moments when he is expected to step to the fore. Downey Jr. is not at his best, but the actor is possessed of so much charisma and skill that, even on a bad day, his performance is up to snuff.

Composer Hans Zimmer (The Dark Knight) described his score for the film as "the sound of the Pogues joining a Romanian orchestra," and that pretty well sums it up. This low point of the production is distracting and annoying, detracting from the reality of Dickensian (or Conan-Doylian) London.

But let's not quibble. Allusions to great literature aside, Ritchie's creation is a likeable one. The forthcoming sequel will be even more hotly anticipated than its predecessor. The director's approach to filmmaking may be more style than substance, but, when it comes to style, the man knows what he's about.

James Walling can be reached at
jwalling@praguepost.com