I cared little for the first Sherlock Holmes movie, finding Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law to be just about the only truly bright spots of the film. My review can be found here.
While director Guy Ritchie, his crew and his stars return for the sequel, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, with pretty much more of what they imagine audiences loved about the first film (a bona fide box-office smash with over half a billion dollars in global earnings) this time they've brought a far more coherent, if slightly cliched script with them, one which doesn't have the stink of Simon Kinberg all over it.
This story, written by Keiran and Michele Mulroney and very, VERY loosely based on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 1893 novel The Final Problem, pits Holmes (Downey, Jr.) against his archnemesis, Professor James Moriarty (Jared Harris), amid brewing tension between France and Germany towards the end of the 19th century. A series of bombings in both countries being blamed on Anarchists is pushing both countries to the brink of war, with the whole world almost surely destined to follow suit.
Dr. John Watson (Jude Law) is about to get married to his longtime fiance Mary (Kelly Reilly) and pays a visit to his best man, Holmes, who is meant to throw him a bachelor party, but who ends up recruiting him for his latest investigation, in which he seeks to tie the current tension between France and Germany, and a series of murders of several people all together with Professor Moriarty as the common denominator. Holmes has intercepted a letter being handed from one agent of Moriarty's to another and endeavors to track down its intended recipient, a gypsy (Noomi Rapace). Their investigations naturally bring the pair afoul of Moriarty and before long they find themselves in a race against time to save Europe from war and themselves from Moriarty's terrible wrath.
As stories go, it's not the most original, even if it only borrowed a few details from The Final Problem. The idea of someone trying to profit from the carnage of world war is not exactly novel, and was in fact explored as recently as the utterly forgettable film adaptation of Alan Moore's The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Ritchie, however, profits from Mulroney's script, which sets up the characters, the conflicts, and the action more efficiently than the muddled effort of the original film did. Ritchie brings back plenty of the 300-style slow-mo action that he employed in the first film (and of which I am still not much of a fan), but at least I liked the choreography better this time around. Downey Jr. and Law are both extremely capable as action heroes, and Ritchie's fight scenes give RDJ in particular a chance to show off, even more than the first film, the Wing Chun Kung Fu that helped him kick his drug habit.
The good news here is that, as outlandish as a lot of the set pieces here are (such as the gunfight on a train), the action still feels more judiciously staged than that of the first film, and more organic to the overall story somehow. To think, everyone, from cinematographer Philippe Rousselot to film editor James Herbert to composer Hans Zimmer, has come back and that the only thing significantly changed here is the writing team. Well, one thing that significantly livens up the proceedings is the inclusion of Holmes' brother Mycroft, wonderfully portrayed by Stephen Fry, even if I had a really hard time looking at him butt naked.
The best part of the movie is that the banter and squabbling between Holmes and Watson, integral to my enjoyment of the first film, is very much intact here and brought to the next level even. Downey, Jr. and Law really do have a fantastic chemistry and I can't imagine any other two actors in the roles. It's fortunate that Sony didn't push through with the planned Sacha Baron Cohen-Will Ferrell pairing they had in mind for their decidedly more comedic adaptation; it just wouldn't have been as good.
4/5
Monday, January 23, 2012
Monday, January 2, 2012
On Micromanaging and Disowning Movies
At the recently concluded Metro Manila Film Festival, Manila Kingpin: the Asiong Salonga story cleaned up winning 11 awards. While I'm generally not a fan of Filipino movies (as sad as this is to admit), the trailer for this one pretty interesting and may yet see this movie if I have time and money to spare. A potential dealbreaker, though (apart from the lack of time and money, of course) is the fact that the film's director, Tikoy Aguiluz, has publicly disowned the film, going to the extent of securing a court order to have his name removed from the film and all its marketing materials. It's not the most glowing endorsement, to say the least.
Not having seen the movie, much less what was supposedly excised from it, I can only imagine that whatever the studio did, it was to improve the film's chances at the box-office, which can and often does spell disaster for creative integrity and overall quality.
While I realize that creative butchery is hardly new in the film industry, local or otherwise, it nonetheless pains me to think that even during the Metro Manila film festival, when all foreign product is shut out of the movie theaters (with the exception of IMAX theaters) and where, once upon a time, Filipino filmmakers were allowed free rein to make the kind of movies they wanted to make, the desperation of studio suits to get fannies into the seats remains the primordial consideration.
The thing of it is, even assuming that Aguiluz was simply a hired gun rather than a visionary who conceived of the whole film, the studio that made it owed him some common courtesy. As a professional, I expect my clients to place their trust in me, to give me all of the facts I need to help them out, and to respect the work product that I give them. Of course, I owe them the best work I can possibly give, but my initial conference with them should give them an idea of what I'm capable of and what I can give them.
I can side with studios that fire directors before filming even begins; there's a reason why studios and directors sit down and talk, and that is to determine whether or not they have a common vision. To allow somebody to spent several months (or weeks, as is often the case here) of his life shooting and editing a movie only to yank the rug out from under him with unauthorized last minute reshoots and changes, though, is more than simple disrespect; it is a statement of intent from the producers or the suits that the director's vision is not theirs. It's basically the act of flipping the director the middle finger. Of course, probably the most extreme example of such a gesture is the way Warner Brothers threw out an ENTIRE film when they shelved Paul Schrader's Exorcist prequel (thereby denying Filipino-born Billy Crawford, who had a significant role in that film, his moment in the Hollywood spotlight) and had Renny Harlin shoot an all-new one, but Aguiluz's feelings of betrayal are nonetheless entirely legitimate.
I still don't know if I'll go and see Manila Kingpin, but if nothing else, if it turns out to be a total shitfest I'll bear in mind that it wasn't Tikoy Aguiluz's fault. I'll give him that much.
Not having seen the movie, much less what was supposedly excised from it, I can only imagine that whatever the studio did, it was to improve the film's chances at the box-office, which can and often does spell disaster for creative integrity and overall quality.
While I realize that creative butchery is hardly new in the film industry, local or otherwise, it nonetheless pains me to think that even during the Metro Manila film festival, when all foreign product is shut out of the movie theaters (with the exception of IMAX theaters) and where, once upon a time, Filipino filmmakers were allowed free rein to make the kind of movies they wanted to make, the desperation of studio suits to get fannies into the seats remains the primordial consideration.
The thing of it is, even assuming that Aguiluz was simply a hired gun rather than a visionary who conceived of the whole film, the studio that made it owed him some common courtesy. As a professional, I expect my clients to place their trust in me, to give me all of the facts I need to help them out, and to respect the work product that I give them. Of course, I owe them the best work I can possibly give, but my initial conference with them should give them an idea of what I'm capable of and what I can give them.
I can side with studios that fire directors before filming even begins; there's a reason why studios and directors sit down and talk, and that is to determine whether or not they have a common vision. To allow somebody to spent several months (or weeks, as is often the case here) of his life shooting and editing a movie only to yank the rug out from under him with unauthorized last minute reshoots and changes, though, is more than simple disrespect; it is a statement of intent from the producers or the suits that the director's vision is not theirs. It's basically the act of flipping the director the middle finger. Of course, probably the most extreme example of such a gesture is the way Warner Brothers threw out an ENTIRE film when they shelved Paul Schrader's Exorcist prequel (thereby denying Filipino-born Billy Crawford, who had a significant role in that film, his moment in the Hollywood spotlight) and had Renny Harlin shoot an all-new one, but Aguiluz's feelings of betrayal are nonetheless entirely legitimate.
I still don't know if I'll go and see Manila Kingpin, but if nothing else, if it turns out to be a total shitfest I'll bear in mind that it wasn't Tikoy Aguiluz's fault. I'll give him that much.
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