I hate to have to give the UBOO rating to a film that I didn't literally walk out on. But I went to see Guy Ritchie's "Sherlock Holmes" this afternoon with my wife and daughter and son-in-law, so couldn't just leave. If I'd taken the car home I'd have had to come back to get them, etc. Bummer.Where does one start in panning this film? Too loud, too much CGI, adolescent "action," contrived and arbitrary plot, exploitive of Conan Doyle's character, etc., etc. What a waste of talent by the many supremely talented individuals who created this travesty.
On the way home (I wasn't driving), I called my friend Jim Rix, who had a lot to say about Sherlock Holmes in his excellent true crime book, Jingle Jangle: The Perfect Crime Turned Inside Out. He had told me earlier in the week that he planned to go to the movie with his own daughter on Christmas Day. I got his leave-a message, so I did:
You didn't go to see "Sherlock Holmes" yesterday after all, did you? How do I know? Elementary, Mr. dear Watson. If you had gone, you'd have called to warn me. But you didn't. QED.
It took me a few hours to recover from that smug assault on my senses and intelligence, but I was able by evening to join everyone in watching "The Thomas Crown Affair" (the 1999 version with Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo, directed by John McTiernan). VG. (With an EO for that see-through black dress Rene wears on her dancing night out with Pierce.)
