What happens when a ritzy, small-time film director takes on a Hollywood blockbuster, especially when the main character is one of the most beloved of classical fiction? You get Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes, which is one part Ritchie’s normal, herky jerky filmmaking, one part studio pandering, and one part Robert Downey Jr., but minus all the character development.

Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes takes Sherlock Holmes and yanks him from his normal, stuffy fare and transplants him into a would-be action flick—I say would be because I’m not quite sure the film has as much action as the trailer would lead you to believe. Oh, sure there are explosions and fights, but it’s not quite as in-your-face as action-starved frat boys might be rooting for. That’s not to say that Sherlock Holmes isn’t fun, because it is, but it feels so disjointed, as if the studio said, “Hey, Ritchie, can you tone down some of your Ritchie-ness?” And then Ritchie proclaimed, “I will cram the most Ritchie-ness I can into each scene.”

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Ritchie’s vision of Sherlock Holmes takes the Greg House, M.D. updated version of Sherlock Holmes and makes him into a brawny fighter—that is, to say he’s definitely crankier, more manic depressive, and kookier than we’ve ever seen him. Throw in Dr. Wilson, oops, I mean Dr. Watson (Jude Law), and you practically have a good ol’ buddy flick—but with crime solving. Wait, has that been done before? Sherlock Holmes begins with Holmes and Watson stopping crazy serial killer, Lord Blackwood (Mark Strong), from killing another young lady.

The opening scene pays homage to some of Ritchie’s finest action sequences, with slow-mo shots and loud music blaring—only this time with Irish fiddles… A nice touch is when Holmes is deciding on his next sequence of moves, and we hear his inner dialogue and see how the action will play out slowly before he acts out. This is a neat trick employed throughout the rest of the film because it allows slower audience members to really capture Holmes’ scientific reasoning.

At Lord Blackwood’s hanging, he exclaims that “Death is only the beginning,” and shortly after it appears as though he has risen from the grave. Throw in some crazy black magic occult, secret societies, seemingly unexplainable deaths, and the picture turns into a magic versus science film that makes me long to watch The Young Sherlock Holmes again. At one point, Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams), a crafty criminal who has bested Holmes…twice, pops up to ask Holmes to find a redheaded dwarf for her sinister employer. While I adore McAdams, she is completely wasted here. She serves no function to the plot, and we are given absolutely no character development for her.

Well, on that subject, we are given pretty little character development for anyone. Holmes seems more like a caricature than a real person we want to root for. And Watson is portrayed as the typical fuddy duddy—but yet, likes to help Holmes kick some ass. That’s not to say that RDJ and Law don’t give it their all and with gusto—they do. They both give pretty good performances given that they don’t have much to work with. And they have great chemistry.

But, much like the great debate of Avatar with style and look over substance, in this instance the lack of a great script and storyline aren’t overcompensated by a great film. Everything feels like it’s just a little bit too much. The plot is slightly confusing, and everything feels so in-your-face. Whereas Ritchie has made some pretty cool flicks with interesting camera work and super style, Sherlock Holmes feels like he made it pretty half assed.

Again, though, Sherlock Holmes is still a pretty fun ride when you ignore all the issues with it.

--Darcie Duttweiler