Film Review: Sherlock Holmes. A Game of Shadows

Guy Ritchie’s previous Holmes picture was released on 26^th December 2009, fittingly it stank of the medium grade Boxing Day claptrap that ends up on TV the day after the best day of the year. The production values, plot, direction and characterisation begged the question as to why it was playing on a cinema screen at all. But, critical and commercial success was granted upon the movie and now we have been bestowed with a sequel. Thankfully it improves upon the first film’s lack of scope, shifting from the (arguably) televisual 1.85:1 aspect ratio to a much wider 2.35:1. Newly armed with more of the bombastic, explosion riddled action sequences that made its producer Joel Silver a household name. As entertainment for the season it’s fulfilling enough. A better film certainly, but is that enough?

As Holmes, Robert Downey Jr’s bawdy verbal sparring with Jude Law’s Watson is easy enough on the ear, but it’s never a riot. Witty certainly, but will never inspire anything beyond a wry chuckle. Holmes here is not much more than a neater, dandyish version of Jack Sparrow. All eccentricity and no moderation. That said you are unlikely to tire of him, no matter how tired the shtick may be. New cast members Jarred Harris and Noomi Rapace seem bereft of good material, Rapace’s talents being the most underserved and Harris (who prior to this role, specialised in minor supporting roles in the likes of Lost in Space and Benjamin Button) lacking the gravitas needed for a villain as nefarious as Dr Moriarty. Stephen Fry is as entertaining as always as Mycroft, Sherlock’s flamboyant elder brother, but this is hardly a stretch for Fry. Still, Fry could be describing the consistency of his latest bowel movement over Christmas pudding and we’d be listening with hushed reverence.

Furthering the Pirates of the Caribbean connection, the plot here revels in convolution as mystery after conundrum is unearthed as a succession of plot points – each varying in their complexity – come to the fore. None of which register as twists or revelations, in fact the double crossing script becomes predictable as red herrings become evident from the outset. Like a letter sent from Sherlock to Mycroft, code written as bearing bad news but in fact meaning the opposite, the film is a folly of its own machinations as we become conditioned to expect the contrary to all of the information we’re given. Regardless of its convolutions the script does call for some fairly radical developments, good guys are tortured and a significant player is iced early on.

The film as a whole is a conflicted experience, in its attempts to be unpredictable it becomes predictable and Sherlock and Watson’s witty tirades are enjoyable but never hysterical. Despite these flaws, it’s competent entertainment all the same.