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The Sleuth is out there

In a way, a lot about Guy Ritchie's "Sherlock Holmes" adaptation makes sense. I know, I'm as surprised as you are to hear me say that. But think about it. Long before he was the former Mr. Madonna, this director made his name plumbing the depths of London's gangland underbelly in cheeky crime stories like "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels", "Snatch" and "RocknRolla". So it stands to reason that he might want to go old-school and take a crack at crime in the Victorian era through the eyes of its most famous detective. For the lead role, Mr. Ritchie has cast Robert Downey Jr. At first, that choice may raise an eyebrow, particularly to those familiar with the Basil Rathbone incarnation of the character. But if you need an actor who can portray the type of rapid-fire mental acuity of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's famed "consulting detective", Mr. Downey has that in spades.  And as for Warner Bros. Pictures, well, I smell franchise. In fact the film's plot appears to be little more than a setup for subsequent movies. But more on that later.

As literary adaptations go - particularly those involving iconic characters - this "Holmes" falls into the "reimagining" category. Gone are the traditional accoutrements - the deerstalker cap, the calabash pipe, the inverness cape (no major loss there, since most of those affectations were added by actors post-Conan Doyle). In their place, you'll find the very model of a modern action hero in the form of "Iron Man" himself. Mr. Downey has clearly studied at the Captain Jack Sparrow School of characterization. This Holmes is all cutesy OCD tics and eccentricities. And he's as quick with a fist as he is with a magnifying glass. In the film's one truly clever invention, we see Holmes visualize his physical attacks before actually executing them with almost gentlemanly precision. Happily, the film doesn't skimp on Holmes' trademark deducing, and Mr. Downey is just the man to sell it.

As Holmes' steadfast right-hand man, Dr. Watson, Jude Law proves to be a solid choice, projecting the type of mildly annoyed respect reserved for only our closest partners. The film also introduces a femme fatale - who puts in an appearance in one of Conan Doyle's short stories - Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams). Irene is set up to be the love of Holmes' life - the one woman who outsmarted him (twice). Ms. McAdams is a good choice for the role, but she's given little to do but play it coy and engage in proto-post-feminist gunplay with the boys.

The frenzied plot finds Holmes and Watson on the trail of the evil Lord Blackwood (Mark Strong), a Jack the Ripper-type with a penchant for the occult. The hoop-jumping script - by Michael Robert Johnson, Anthony Peckham and Simon Kinberg - has Blackwood captured and hanged in the opening sequence, only to seemingly return from the dead later on. Was it magic? Holmes is on the case.

You may have noticed I didn't mention Professor Moriarty, Holmes' arch-nemesis - the Lex Luthor to his Superman. Yes, it's true. That equally famous Conan Doyle creation doesn't play much of a role here. Of course, the filmmakers haven't missed this boat entirely. If this movie were to do good box office, however, might we see Moriarty in a future installment? Well, that's elementary.