Showing posts with label Bond Villain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bond Villain. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 10, 2026

Season 35 - Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking (2005-2006)

When I first watched Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking it felt like a fresh take on Holmes and Rupert Everett seemed well cast. The problem is in the proceeding twenty years Sherlock Holmes kind of went boom then bust, with Robert Downey Junior playing him on the big screen in Guy Ritchie's films, to Jonny Lee Miller on Elementary, to Benedict Cumberbatch on Sherlock. Now people are wanting their Sherlock with a twist, look to Millie Bobby Brown as Enola Holmes and Blu Hunt as Sherlock's daughter Amelia Rojas. We as the audience demand more of our stories and watching Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking, we see the flaws. What will strike you most is that they didn't even bother to film this TV movie on a decent film stock. It lends that faux reality to it, wherein it almost feels like you're watching the news. This is actually a problem I have with all high-definition film conversion, which this is obviously not. But there's a weird surreality making them hyper real. If you doubt my theory watch Jaws in high-def, it's like watching a documentary about the seventies. But here they coupled their bad film stock with a bad transfer, wherein the PAL to NTSC transfer is jittery, making it look even shittier. Though the worst decision of all was they stuck to the when in doubt use a fog machine for atmosphere school of Victorian filmmaking. There is so much fog you can barely make out any of the action in outdoor scenes, yet incongruously there wasn't enough fog to hide the modern metal structures near the cemetery! The lack of production quality seeped over into the historical details. They very obviously had no historic adviser. Instead they had a slouching Duchess smoking filtered cigarettes almost thirty years before they existed. I mean seriously, she wouldn't have shown exasperation and insolence to a police officer, she would have shown hauteur! And that doesn't even cover the telephones and the improper titles for the King and Queen! They seemed to want to update Holmes, but instead of going all out like Elementary or Sherlock, they added incongruities that exasperate the audience versus adding to the story. But oddly enough what annoyed me the most was the lackadaisical floorplan for 221B Baker Street, which in an odd error is actually once referred to as 222B Baker Street. Of all locations in books and films, I don't think there's any one more regulated than 221B Baker Street. But then again, watching it all these years later, I seem to have nothing but problems with this production. I even question the casting of Rupert Everett as Holmes. He brought nothing to the role other than the required hawk-like profile. Holmes is fun for his excitability, his dark humor, his mood swings, yet Everett plays him almost atonally. But Holmes is supposed to be balanced by Watson. And Ian Hart was miscast abysmally as a lecturing antagonistic parental figure for Holmes, with a very rat like face. With their ongoing bickering one wonders why they are even colleagues at all, because with this behavior they are certainly not friends! Yet all these flaws could be overlooked if the conclusion and the revelation of the killer hadn't been so absurd. And in what is an even weirder turn of events, it isn't Holmes who expounds on how he figured it all out and when and why, but it's the killer explaining himself FOR NO REASON to his latest victim that we get his lame reasoning for killing. He's not a Bond villain for crying out loud! I actually applaud the production of a Sherlock Holmes story wherein Holmes is a nonentity. Not what I or anyone else would have done, but it's at least novel.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Jamaica Inn

Jamaica Inn by Alfred Hitchcock
Based on the book by Daphne Du Maurier
Release Date: May 15th, 1939
Starring: Charles Laughton, Maureen O'Hara, Leslie Banks, Robert Newton, Marie Ney
Rating: ★
To Buy
Wreckers are on the Cornish coast, led by Joss Merlyn, proprietor of Jamaica Inn. They leave no survivors and head back to count their loot. Meanwhile Mary Yellen has come to Cornwall from Ireland after the death of her mother to be with her Aunt Patience. But the coachman refuses to stop at Jamaica Inn and she is forced to beg the assistance of the local Squire Pengallan. The Squire is a generous, over the top fop who is eagerly willing to lead a hand to a pretty face. Once he escorts Mary to the Inn she learns that her Aunt and Uncle never received her letter and that she was not expected, especially tonight after a wreck while the men are in high spirits. Mary is sent to her room while the men carouse downstairs. Drunkenly the accost Joss saying that they think they're being shafted, and there should be more money for them. Picking on the newcomer, Jem Trehearne, they decide to string him from the high beams in the Inn. Luckily for Jem, Mary sees whats happening and rescues him and then makes a run for it with Jem. After a night of evading the rowdies, they beg the help of the Squire, who in fact is the last person they should ask, because unbeknownst to them, he is the mastermind behind the Jamiaca Inn wreckers. Jem, despite being the bad man that Mary thinks he is, turns out to be on the pay of her majesties secret service. The Squire, in a fit of megalomania, decides to see how this will play out, playing both sides of the fence. Eventually fleeing with Mary will he be able to make it out of the country before he is found out?

After this abysmal film, which it must be said, it is, Daphne Du Maurier almost withheld the rights to Rebecca. It's patently obvious why. This travesty of a film made to cater to Charles Laughton's egomania lacks the suspense and nuance of Du Maurier's book. If shown one and then the other, you could barely recognize this movie as having come for the source material. There is no mystery, no suspense, and there is no feeling that this is a Hitchcock film. This could in fact be worse than Marnie, which until now was my most hated Hitchcock film, but at least that had some substance. This was just a headlong rush of wreckers throwing themselves into danger and waiting for the evil genius to be caught. Charles Laughton played the Squire as if he was a Bond Villain, but with all Regency foppery and absurd eyebrows. If I was Du Maurier and saw how they had destroyed my masterpiece I would be furious as well. To take a wonderful psychological drama that draws out the mystery slowly and then gives away everything in the first five minutes of the film and then just has chase scenes and fights with Charles Laughton mugging about with no character development or interest lead to a movie I was praying to end. In fact, if not for being duty bound to review this for my Hitchcockian Hoot'nanny I would have turned off the movie about ten minutes in. Though, the thug Harry did intrigue me, he looked like a 19th century version of Prince, I kid you not! But for you I prevailed, mainly so that I can tell you read the book, avoid the movie at all costs, and hope that the BBC decides to redo this as an Andrew Davies miniseries... I have ideas BBC bigwigs! Call me ok?

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