From Variety writer, Todd McCarthy
If you can get over the idea of Sherlock Holmes as an action hero -- and if, indeed, you want to -- then there is something to enjoy about this flagrant makeover of fiction's first modern detective into a man of brawn as much as brain. To say that this is not grandpapa's Sherlock Holmes will be either irrelevent or a plus for most of the intended audience, who know the iconic Victorian/Edwardian-era sleuth by reputation if at all. A good number of Robert Downey Jr.'s "Iron Man" fans will likely follow him here, as he turns the venerable deerstalker-capped and becaped figure into a gym-toned, half-deranged Holmes unlike any seen before. Worldwide prospects look potent.
Their choice was to transform the historically slim, reclusive, intellectual eccentric into an evident manic depressive whose idea of recreation is to slum in what looks like an East End precursor of the fight club. Such Holmes purists as may remain will blanch, but young audiences, particularly males, will likely swill the topped-out serving of sweaty masculinity, flexing muscle, imaginative violence, unusual weaponry, impudent banter and ballsy effrontery.
Once past the nonsensically overloaded martial-artsy opening stretch, a worthy opponent to Holmes announces himself in the person of Lord Blackwood (the ever-impressive Mark Strong). Condemned to die for the murder of several women, this self-possessed practitioner of black magic ominously warns that, "Death is only the beginning," as he is led to the hangman's noose, after which he is duly pronounced dead by none other than Holmes' sometimes partner and chronicler, Dr. Watson, now transformed into a dashing pretty boy by Jude Law.
Unfortunately for Holmes, Watson and the other citizens of London, Blackwood shortly resurrects himself and undertakes to establish his New Order, with part of the plan being Britain's reconquest of that former colony across the Atlantic. Blackwood's organization, a Masonic-like cult with members in high places, also prefigures fascist iconography in terms of greatcoat design, hair stylings and expressive scowling, so at least sartorially, its members have a distinct edge on the disheveled Holmes.
In addition to taking on men twice his weight in hand-to-hand combat, Holmes diverts himself by undermining Watson's relationship with his fiancee (Kelly Reilly) and coping with the return of Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams), a master criminal who has twice bested Holmes in the past and whose personal intentions with him are far from honorable. Curiously, the one area of traditional Holmesiana the script doesn't really transgress is his lack of romantic attachment. Some backstory and offscreen shenanigans with Irene are suggested, but there remains a reticence to doing anything dramatically interesting with this woman, who is not very well integrated into the rest of the story, a shortcoming the normally resourceful McAdams is unable to do much about.
Action scenes are devised to accentuate aspects of turn-of-the-century industrial London, ruffians of notably indestructible stature (particularly a scar-faced giant who just keeps on coming) and deaths of a diabolically creative nature that only the scientifically adept Blackwood could concoct and the encyclopedically knowledgeable Holmes could analyze. After a well-prepared dramatic climax in Parliament, a putative action exclamation point feels hokey and too CGI-dominated.
Olde London town probably hasn't looked this filthy onscreen since David Lynch's "The Elephant Man" and every frame has been crammed with visual stimulation thanks to Sarah Greenwood's detailed production design, Philippe Rousselot's gritty lensing and Jenny Beavan's determinedly creative costume design. Ritchie has never worked on a scale anything approaching this before and, while some of the directorial affectations are distracting, he keeps the action humming.
Still, the single most important craft contribution is Hans Zimmer's score. Overbearing in the opening scene and opportunistic in its lift of a key melodic phrase from Ennio Morricone's "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" soundtrack, it soon settles in to provide not only narrative propulsion, but enormously helpful mood colorings. The orchestrations are particularly fresh, with bracing use of the zither and other unusual instruments introducing surprising textures throughout.
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