Customer Reviews

Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking

5 star:		(13)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(9)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

It is November of 1902, and when the body of a young prostitute is found on the banks of the Thames, only Dr. John Watson (played by Ian Hart) suspects that something is amiss. When Sherlock Holmes examines the body he quickly makes a startling announcement, the body is that of Lady Alice Burnham. Someone is stalking the debutantes of London, and Scotland Yard is out of its depth. The game is afoot, and Sherlock Holmes is hot on the chase!

OK, I must admit to being of two minds about this movie. First of all, there are some things that turned me off. First of all, both Holmes and Watson are portrayed as much less cordial and polite than they were in the original A.C. Doyle stories, prompting my wife to label Rupert Everett as "the crabby Holmes." Also, Mr. Everett does not bring much energy to the role, giving a surprisingly somnambular performance. Secondly, I found Dr. Watson's fiancé (what happened to his first wife, Mary Morstan?) far too much of a clichéd American - "Come in, Sherlock, have a whiskey!"

But, that said, I really did enjoy this movie. The subject matter goes beyond the more simple stories of the original Holmes, but does a good job of catching Sherlock's spirit. I found myself pulled into the story, and really enjoying it. I am a great fan of Jeremy Brett's interpretation of Sherlock Holmes, but I must say that this is a solid, highly-enjoyable Sherlock Holmes story.

So, if you enjoy a good Sherlock Holmes story, then you will enjoy this movie. It's Sherlock Holmes, eight years after the events of The Adventure of the Empty House, and once more on the trail of a murderer. I really enjoyed this movie, and highly recommend it.

"Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking" was written by Alan Cubitt based on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's classic "Sherlock Holmes" characters. This story finds Sherlock Holmes (Rupert Everett) semi-retired and Dr. John Watson (Ian Hart) engaged to be married to outspoken American psychiatrist Mrs. Vandeleur (Helen McCrory). When the body of an aristocratic young woman is found on the banks of the Thames, strangled, with a silk stocking stuffed in her mouth, Holmes takes the case. When another young woman of high birth is abducted, it becomes clear that a fetishistic serial murderer is preying on the daughters of high society.

The Sherlock Holmes of "The Case of the Silk Stocking" is smug, cheeky, flippant, and, frankly, unethical. He bears no resemblance to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's character. All period films are to some degree burlesques of the era in which they take place, but this one is over-the-top. Rupert Everett's Holmes makes no attempt at being a Victorian or Edwardian gentleman. He acts like a spoiled pseudo-intellectual dandy home from university. Some of his actions would be outrageous even now and are certainly preposterous in a film that takes place in 1903. Alan Cubitt made no attempt at writing his characters in their own era. Ian Hart does a decent job as Dr. Watson, and he coincidentally played Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in a brief scene in 2004's "Finding Neverland" about author J. M. Barrie. Audiences will either be able to stomach this Sherlock Holmes, or they will not. But Jeremy Brett's interpretation of Holmes from the 1980s and 1990s is still relevant, and reruns of those episodes would be more entertaining than "The Case of the Silk Stocking".

This was fun. The atmosphere was so thick you could cut it with a knife (and then lose the knife), but I've come to expect that from Holmes and the BBC. Everett and Hart make such an engaging team as Holmes and Watson, that I didn't mind, too much, when the mystery came up short. A couple of the minor players made an impression: Michael Fassbender, as a footman, and Perdita Weeks, as Lady Roberta. But it's the Holmes-Watson dynamic that sells the show. This time we are treated to Holmes' apparent jealousy at the prospect of Watson's impending wedding-to an American widow, no less! By the way, this Watson is no bungler, ala Nigel Bruce; he even gets the jump on Holmes in one instance. Everett's not about to make you forget Basil Rathbone, however, and there is a scene where Holmes appears in a rather transparent disguise that makes you nostalgic for the Holmes who impersonated a Music Hall performer in "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes." But Everett puts his own, patrician stamp on the character; he probably would have been too good looking for Sir Arthur's tastes, but the rest of us will welcome him back in the inevitable sequel.

I can't understand the criticisms of the other reviewers of this outstanding presentation. As much as I loved the BBC versions featuring Jeremy Brett, I never considered Brett "definitive" as Holmes, any more than Basil Rathbone was. In my opinion, Rupert Everett has come closer than either of these icons in portraying the icily cerebral Holmes which Conan Doyle created.

I loved the sinister, sexually-charged atmosphere presented here. I agree with the reviewer who said that Conan Doyle would not have dealt with this sort of frank material, but then, I doubt he could have gotten it published in his time if he had. The fact is, Holmes's England had an extremely dark, randy underbelly of vice and perversion, and I found the mature treatment of this facet of the culture fascinating.

As for Holmes's use of opium and cocaine, simply because Conan Doyle didn't elaborate doesn't mean we must assume Holmes never would have indulged beyond those few lines found in the stories. Between cases, Holmes resorted to his seven percent solution to alleviate the despair he felt at the feeling his life had no purpose; why should we not suppose that he could also have visited the opium dens as well?

At any rate, I am one viewer who was delighted at the authentic atmosphere, the top quality writing that was both faithful to Conan Doyle's style and yet thoroughly original, and above all to the superb acting by all involved, especially Mr. Everett.

I enthusiatically give this presentation five stars.

It was great to see a new Sherlock, even though this Sherlock was very unSherlockian. He had the wrong guy detained, recklessly endangered a girl, and just seemed to be too much of a slacker. But, it is good to see any effort in the post Brett world. We need new Sherlocks -- as imperfect as they may prove to be.

There seems little reason these days to even do a new Sherlock Holmes film unless it is to feature a dynamic actor tackling the venerable part. Rupert Everett has been a dynamic actor in the past, but here he sleepwalks his way through the role of Holmes, speaking mostly in a high whisper and showing none of the energy nor the intellectual curiosity inherent in the character. Perhaps he was deliberately trying to be the anti-Jeremy Brett, but as Sherlock, he makes a terrific Oscar Wilde. Not much more can be said for Ian Hart as Watson. Hart has played the part twice now, and lost each time. At least in "Silk Stocking" he is not as petulant and annoying as he was in the latest (and worst) adaptation of "Hound of the Baskervilles," but his Watson is hardly the picture of the sturdy, dependable former military man. Looking like a child next to the very large Everett, and still unable to shake that perpetual poutiness that scuttled his previous foray into Watson, he comes off like a dandified Edgar Allan Poe. What's more, the story surrounding them is loaded with improbabilities and anacronisms. The by-now-obligatory sequence featuring Holmes in disguise, for example, ends with the detective peeling away latex rubber facial appliances, which were not exactly in use during the Edwardian era. Watson's fedora hat, more suited to Philip Marlowe or Sam Spade, is another odd, out-of-place touch. Even harder to swallow is the fact that Scotland Yard CID invites Holmes in to take over the investigation and lets him operate as a modern-day DCI would, directing the actions of Inspector Lestrade and the peelers, all of whom obey without question. And, of course, there are the scenes of Holmes taking drugs (also obligatory by this point), though the real Holmes would never use drugs while on a case. The real crime, though, occurs at the end, with the revelation of the killer's identity. I will not spoil it, but suffice it to say that Father Knox, the man who created the unofficial rules of what is acceptable for mystery stories and what is not, is spinning in his grave.

I tried hard to suspend my knowledge of the "real" Holmes to give this movie a chance, and for a while, it almost worked, thanks mostly to the incredibly good cinematography and "staging". They did a good job of recreating the gloomy, eerie feel of turn-of-the-century London. However, that was where the similarity to anything Holmesian ended. As a CSI offering on American TV, this would work...sort of. Plenty of "loving" shots of dead bodies (very CSI) and references to all sorts of gross perversions.
If they had ended the thing with the scene at the dance, with Holmes posing as a Russian dignitary, it would have gotten a C+ from me - but then apparently the writing team and/or producers decided to take it over the top and dragged it on with one painfully bad scene after the other, with Holmes appearing as a dithering idiot shufffling through papers for clues while Watson actually is the one to come to the rescue. Oh, yes, and then there's the scene of the murderer carrying an unconscious girl (in her nightdress and bleeding from the nose, no less!) over his shoulders through a residential area of London - with no one noticing! The whole melodrama became comical. I suspect the writer was very young - young enough to have a comic book-TV show mind set. Like the Farelly brothers trying to do a serious remake of Shakespeare.

Rupert Everett plays a very different Holmes from either Basil Rathbone or Jeremy Brett. This is not Holmes at the peak of his powers; this is a deeply discouraged detective hunting for the meaning that has fled his life. And though he finds it briefly in a mystery darker and edgier than any Doyle would have written, one gets the sense that this is a man who is ready to leave London forever on the next train.

What makes this different from other recent attempts to make Sherlock Holmes hip for modern media audiences is its attempt to be honest to Holmes, Doyle, and the period. He is fueled by the same grim necessity that made Brett so great in the role. And the story turns on the study of sexual dysfunction and psychopathology, new and controversial fields in the era depicted in this movie.

Some people criticize Everett because he isn't Brett. Not only is this unfair, but it distracts from how this movie walks a knife edge, telling an original story while maintaining Brett's fidelity to the original source material. Though every actor brings something original to a role, Everett really seems to be playing Doyle's Holmes in a new story. I can't imagine anyone else, besides Brett, accomplishing both goals at once.

Dark and disturbing, faithful and honest, this is the best Holmes I've seen since Brett played the role for Granada. Though the movie is hobbled by a visual design dominated by mist and grey filters, the actors turn in an admirable performance sure to satisfy all but the pickiest Holmes fans. This layered mystery gives me hope that this story isn't yet played out.

I enjoyed this film immensely...Everette is certainly wonderful as Holmes..but the Holmes as he might have been without Watson's rose colored glasses. If your a fan of Billy Wilder's Private Life of Sherlock Holmes..and can accept a Sherlock that makes mistakes and doesn't mind a little opium once in a while, you might want to give this a try.

A good quality DVD recording.

If only there was a whole series of Sherlock Holmes mysteries with Rupert Everett. He was great. And Ian Hart as Dr Watson is excellent - a more intelligent character than Nigel Bruce's Watson (who I love dearly).

I'm a big fan of the Basil Rathbone series, but this is sufficiently different to feel fresh and interesting.