Review: Holmes & Watson

Holmes & Watson
Cert: 12A / 90 mins / Dir. Etan Cohen / Trailer

Ah, doctor! Do take a seat. Now, I suppose you're wondering why I called you here with such urgency. Well, it's the curious case of that Reilly chap. Yes, you know him, the moving-picture performer.

His latest cinematograph is causing quite the stir in the city so I've heard, and while many are claiming the work to be a calculated and prolonged insult to the memory of dear Sir A.C. Doyle, I suspect that's too obvious a ruse. No, what's troubling me more is what Reilly hopes to attain, or indeed contribute, by being party to the frittering of forty-two million new American dollars on such a blatant slander. Allow me to explain...

When I sat in my local amphitorium to witness Holmes & Watson, I did so in the company of only four other patrons, and less than a week after the presentation had made its West End debut. An hour into the programme, two of those left. Such is the fickle nature of comedy, one supposes.

Or perhaps not...

CHUCKLE

You see, the odd snort and chuckle that the film does have to offer invariably comes from Reilly himself. Although whether this is down to the writing or his recital of those lines is a fleeting puzzle throughout.

Not content with having a comedic baseline of shrieking and basic slapstick, what passes for a script is perpetually in a race with itself to find the lowest common denominator that a 12A certificate will allow in any given scene. Because why stop at hitting the housekeeper Mrs Hudson in the face with a cricket bat, when there's her recurring slut-shaming in the jovial repertoire as well?

Although for all the film's warped gender politics, cheap racial jokes seem low on the agenda (although probably only because the cast is almost entirely caucasian), and The Americas come in for just as much of a heavy-handed societal ribbing as Britain. Small mercies.

BLUES

The sloppy ADR is all over the shop, apparently demonstrating that the filmmakers didn't have a script they were happy with during the actual filming process. And much like the heavy-handed historical references, the British accents from the transatlantic players here are atrocious of course. But if these are not an outright deliberate affectation, they're certainly still intended to be part of the overall joke. And this script needs all the help in can get, in that department.

All credit is due to cinematographer Oliver Wood, for using an increasingly inventive series of camera angles to crop out any trace of modern London in the iconic landmark location-shots, all the while having each and every sequence somehow look exactly like it was filmed in mid-2018. Quite remarkable.

MARX

While the stylised, slow-motion fight breakdowns certainly doff their hat duly in the direction of the underappreciated Guy Ritchie outings, they appear to be the the only actual Sherlock Holmes material that writer/director Etan Cohen*¹ has consumed in researching his piece.

Indeed, there's the persistent feeling that with the grandiose Victorian setpieces, Cohen would very much like to channel a more broadly comic rendering of the works of Alan Moore. Albeit without having actually read any Alan Moore, so it seems.

Ultimately, this is Without A Clue for the Daddy's Home generation. In all honesty, the production does not put in enough effort to earn the true ire of audiences and critics, even if this laziness does not excuse the final, inevitable result.

SPENCER

We don't necessarily expect better of Reilly's accomplice William Ferrell at this stage in his career of course, and while the high calibre of the rest of the turnout is frankly baffling, audiences can rest assured that if this film had been made at any other time with any other roster, it would still have been every bit as substandard.

In fact, the general breadth of the cast-list suggests a number of theatrical favours being called in, the likes of which we haven't seen since the days of Burke & Hare. And oddly enough, Holmes & Watson makes a striking companion-piece to that similarly sprawling, cinematic folly. In fact, it often appears the powers-that-be may have employed two casting directors, in order to secure this number of accomplished actors who should know better*².

ALLSOPP

But whereas the array of supporting players could argue their involvement with the project was minimal to the point where they'd have little idea of the general direction and aesthetic of the finished work, our man Reilly has no such thespic alibi. He knew what this was, knew what it was meant to be and damned well continued anyway.

The fact that our subject, representing 50% of the leading actors in this piece, can currently be heard elsewhere in the same cinema as the voice of the affable Wreck-It Ralph and is imminently due to take the reins with a touching turn as one of cinema's most iconic comedians, leads me to deduce that Jonningsworth Cuthbert Reilly is actually a pair of twins masquerading as one actor - desperate to milk both ends of the cinematic spectrum but willing to commit to neither.

Elementary, really. Much like Holmes & Watson's approach to comedy...

Sadly, this represents a persistent trend with the latter-day oeuvre of Mr William Ferrell.



Good heavens, no.



Were one to find this production on display in a machine on the promenade whereby a halfpence is inserted and the operator manually replays the story in faux-privacy, one would still have been overcharged. The only upside to this being of course that it can be easily stopped as soon as the grave error of judgement is realised.



I think not.



Why certainly, if you were to sing the film's praises.



There is one particular moment where a hearty brawl takes place at a dockside, and it sounds for all the world like Private Wilhelm makes an auditory cameo appearance in the background. Although given the subtlety of this blending and the corresponding lack thereof elsewhere in the film, I find this difficult to believe.



Level 1: 'Sheesha Smoking Guest' is in this. Dude doesn't even have a name yet, Solo came out in May. What's the GFFA coming to?





*¹ Spare a thought for the justly-celebrated writer/director Ethan Cohen, every time one of Etan's films is released and he has to spend the following two months explaining that no, that wasn't one of his. ^{[ BACK ]}

*² The BAFTA award-winning Rebecca Hall, the EMMY award-winning Kelly Macdonald, the NTA-nominated Pam Ferris, the Golden Globe-winning Hugh Laurie, the BAFTA award-winning Steve Coogan, and RTS award-winning Rob Brydon.
Although let's leave Ralph Fiennes out of this, obviously. His lack of judgment is well documented... ^{[ BACK ]}


DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

Review: Mr Holmes

Mr. Holmes
Cert: PG / 104 mins / Dir. Bill Condon / Trailer



It's certainly a brave gambit, source-novel or otherwise, to introduce a new Sherlock Holmes to 2015's audience. They're already fairly familiar with Baker Street's finest these days, or at least with their preferred iteration, and Bill Condon's philosphical drama brings us an odd quandary of a character; the classic Holmes of old, but in a more recent setting, and not himself at all.

Mr Holmes sees a 93yr old Sherlock, retired to the post-war Sussex coast to look after his apiary with his widowed housekeeper Mrs Munro and her young son Roger. The only thing spoiling his well-earned contentment is an overbearing sense of guilt and a rapidly failing memory. Eager to help the great detective and learn more about his final, troublesome case, Roger begins assisting Holmes in writing his final memoir, prodding and cajoling the old man's faculties into action, as three intertwined tales unfold for the audience…

I'll be honest, I found it hard work. There, I said it. There's much to appreciate about Mr Holmes, but it never quite felt like I was watching… well, Mr Holmes. As much as I love Ian KcKellen, I don't think he's right for the role of Sherlock (in either of the film's parallel timeframes), and there's too much of Gandalf in his doddery, wise and quietly mischievous portrayal or Britain's most beloved smartarse. To make matters worse, the narrative's shoehorning of Holmes doing 'his thing' (his wry bursts of observational analysis, basically) just makes things feel more like a cover-version and less like a reprise.

I can't tell if it's the direction or the writing itself, but the film lacks drive, lingering for far too too long in each of its story-strands and being heavy-handedly melancholy in all of them. Usually I'd say that this sort of thing would seem better suited to TV, but I fear the pacing would suffer even more as a result. That said, the period detail of 1947 is well executed (although the 1907 flashbacks seem far cleaner than you'd expect, somehow), and it is always a joy to watch McKellen ply his craft. It just feels like he's plying it for a completely different story.

By no means a re-imagining of the Moffat/Gatiss methodology, Mr Holmes employs the original character we love yet manages to feel more like fan-fiction than most other screen-interpretations I've seen.

As much as I admire the endeavour, I just couldn't connect with the finished film. Maybe I need a deeper understanding of Holmes to get more out of it, or maybe I'm just expecting too much?

SPOILERY-QUESTION: Oh, and could you really go walking around the rubble in Hiroshima as soon as 1947? I know the radiation from that blast was different from the Chernobyl meltdown, but that seems nuts...



Only if you're a hardcore Sherlockian.



Hmmm, probably a rental.



Not even close. Although Laura Linney's accent has a bloody good go.



For me, no.



Nope.



Oddly, no.



McKellen has recently put the role of Gandalf to bed in The Hobbit films, of course, in which he starred opposite Sir Christopher 'Count Dooku' Lee.







DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

268: Review - Sherlock Holmes, A Game of Shadows

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.



Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011)
23rd December 2011. Location: Cinema

I don't care what anyone says, I fucking love a Guy Ritchie film. Okay, maybe apart from Revolver. Trying too hard with that one. Anyway, taken as 'an action film with Sherlock Holmes in it', I thoroughly enjoyed the first instalment of Ritchie's re-imagining, and I was expecting great things of this. I don't ask a lot; entertain me.

So, you can picture my reaction when the sequel thoroughly met all of my expectations.

Seriously. I thought this was great. Although I like the various incarnations of Holmes, I'm a civilian fan if I'm being honest. I've got no real baggage, and as I said, I'm always up for the Ritchiefication of a story. The same liberties have been taken with character names, plot points and locations as in the first film, just as the storytelling style and fast cutting have also carried over. If you didn't like the first one, you won't like this. Almost goes without saying, really.

SPOILERS FROM THIS POINT ON

Still here? Good. So, the movie's set in 1891, and concentrates on Professor Moriarty's plans to buy munitions factories and medical facilities across Europe, and then start a world war and reap the profits. In that respect, it reminded me a lot of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (which I also loved. There. I said it). This culminates in a showdown at a peace summit in Reichenbach, and I shouldn't have to tell you where that's headed.

Whereas the first movie had an initially (if debunked) supernatural element, this one steers clear of it entirely, relying instead on a series of clues, chases and bluffs. There are four distinctly separate acts, in four distinct locations. As Moriarty is fully introduced early in the proceedings, and as his modus operandi is explained at each turn, it definitely feels like more of a game of cat and mouse than the mysteries we're used to with Holmes. But as I said, I view this as more of an action-adventure which has Holmes in it, so it's no large bugbear for me. The only nagging I had was that the inevitable ending wasn't left open-ended enough for me. I'm okay with the final scene being there, but would have preferred it as an after-the-credits bonus so that the casual audience won't get it. See? I can be a bit Holmes-snobby. As it is, things are wrapped up a little too neatly for my tastes, given the potential they had.

But, I was still thoroughly entertained by it. A worthy successor.



Oh, and they filmed bits of it at the railway centre ten minutes walk away from my house. We had much fun picking out the actual-set from the greenscreened-in items. Although that's about as train-geeky as I'm likely to get, I'm afraid.

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.