Jude a sexy sidekick
Today Sherlock Holmes opened in wide release at Theatres around the country.
How fitting that Guy Ritchie and the studio (Joel Silver/Producer) chose to unveil their stab at the detective genre on Christams day.
After all, this big-budget fiasco is one robust Turkey, complete with all the trimmings (heavy on gummy stuffing and basted on the outside to yummy perfection for gawking at on the banquet table).
Unfortunately, Richie's offering leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
Was it the work of the Devil?
Or, did too many cooks (four screenwriters toiled on this fruit cake during the course of production) end up spoiling the sauce?
Mind you, as far as period pieces go, this entry is definitely a stunner.
The sets are lush, for example.
And, the whole film is buttressed up by the capable hands of a master cinematographer with a keen discerning eye.
But, as one astute critic noted succinctly, the plot is convoluted.
Golly, at one point - in spite of the fact a posse of villains were tearing up the landscape ad nauseam and making quite a ruckus along the way - I dozed off.
When I turned to apologize to filmgoers on each side of me, I caught them comfortably snoozing in their plush seats, too.
In a nutshell, Sherlock Holmes is a diabolical tale about sorcery and magic and the quest for power.
I confess, mystical tales about satantic rituals and the black arts - carried out with a dash of high drama and style - have the capacity to seduce (and captivate) an audience.
Here, however, Richie has conjured up alot of nonsensical hooey!
Notwithstandng the obvious, his directing style is also nothing short of harried.
In a short film, a handful of the clever techniques he facilitates here - might curry favor.
But, in a two-hour feature, they end up being an exercise in repetition - and ultimately - futility
Madonna's ex has a bad habit of painstakingly explaining the obvious (flags a dead horse alot)) - which is an insult to intelligent filmgoers - that won't be long forgotten.
Downey, as expected, manages to go against the tide and rise above the deadweight to the surface - and in the process - turns in an entertaining performance in spite of the shackles that continually attempt to drag him down in this ceremonial barge set adrift without a rudder to keep it on a course worth following.
At one juncture, when Professor Moriarty's name is uttered up casually at the close of the tepid potboiler, it's obvious to any dim-witted fool there will be a sequel sauntering into a theatre near film buffs soon.
If Ritchie signs on the dotted line to helm it, there won't be much to look forward to.
Doesn't take a master sleuth to fathom that out!
Too much stuffing, Guy!
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