Dir: Guy Ritchie
What do you do when you've survived sustained and close contact with the greatest living vampyre of the age, and you need to re-establish yourself as an artist again? Guy Ritchie, has coped with his dilemma by adopting one of his ex wife's tricks. Artisitc theft. He turned to his own cultural heritage, his own back yard so to speak, added some of his own old themes, hired the greatest hype merchant he could lay hands on, and stole Sherlock Holmes.
I should add at this point that I am a Sherlock Holmes fan. I've got and read all the stories and books, several times, and I have watched the Jeremy Brett TV adaptations a great many times.
The actors in Ritchies attempt don't fit the characters very well. The story is pathetic, and unworthy of Sherlock Holmes and the whole film seems like an old hat amalgamation of 'From Hell' and 'Shanghai Knights'. Especially the latter.
Worst of the lot is Robert Downey Junior who mumbles his way through scene after scene, pulling faces meant to convey eccentricity (and apparently a homosexual desire for Watson) all the while coming across, not as a Victorian gentleman of eccentric intelligence, but as the self obsessed individual Downey comes across as in all the films I've had the misfortune to see him in.