The biggest surprise about this movie is that its reasons for failing aren't entirely the fault of director Guy Ritchie. Ritchie has been called the British Tarantino, but that's an insult to Tarantino. More accurately, he's the British version of Tarantino imitators, who themselves are a pretty sad bunch. He's the British Joe Carnahan (Smoking Aces). Or actually, Joe Carnahan is the American Guy Ritchie (a guy imitating a guy who imitates guys who imitate Tarantino). Anyway, when a Ritchie-directed Sherlock Holmes starring Robert Downey Jr. got announced it was greeted with a fair bit of internet nerdthusiasm. I didn't know why and suspected that the reason was because none of these people had had the misfortune of seeing some of Ritchies previous movies, like Revolver, Rocknrolla or Swept Away (admittedly I love this one). Sherlock got tepid reviews and made its predictable half-billion so everything looks like it went according to plan and we'll likely see at least one more Sherlock movie in the near future.
Naturally, it's not very good. But like I said, with Ritchie at the helm I was expecting a fucking manic mess. The high profile and budget vs. profit expectations of the Sherlock package likely prompted him to tone down his over-stylized cartoon machismo and turn in something a little less seizure-inducing. The problem though is not Ritchie's restless style, but that the story and Downey's Sherlock himself are a bit of a bore. In fact, the few times the movie perks up from its franchise-building stupor are when Ritchie lets loose. The opening shots of a racing carriage drawn by black horses has a gothic horror feel and a dangerous kineticism that amps you up for an exciting picture, not the languid hour of set-up that follows. An exploding barrels sequence shot in super slow motion looks like a Korn video from 1999, but is a welcome bit of flash and spectacle. These moments are spread far and wide between the painfully un-funny banter of Holmes and Watson (a barely registering Jude Law) and a characteristically half-baked romantic subplot with Rahel McAdams, who seems like she's in another movie, or at least wants to be.
Downey Jr. is likely the envy of Hollywood right now, a comeback star who now owns the keys to two money-gobbling franchises. But in a perfect world, the real Robert Downey Jr. Renaissance would've begun before Iron Man, with Shane Black's Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. If it had, we'd maybe be seeing him in more interesting projects. Instead, audiences over-praised and over-rewarded Iron Man and Downey got the message that he should hunker down in green-screen summer tentpole territory. As it stands, Downey Jr. looks poised to burn out both the goodwill he earned back as well as his charming-madman routine that is now entering its 4th decade. His draw as an actor has always been his truly unhinged energy. You could never really know what he was going to do next and he had/has the ability to make a thin character in a ho-hum movie seem interesting, transforming even familiar scenes with his playful, improvisational style. As much as Iron Man and Sherlock Holmes bank on this quality in him, there really isn't any room for his unplanned, frenetic energy in these huge studio juggernauts. Essentially, these movies are Robert Downey Jr. behaving. Remember him taunting Mike Tyson and getting slapped in the face in Black & White? Those days look to be over. In Iron Man he gets buried in an animated suit and the comic book lore of his character. In Sherlock Holmes it's his British accent and the baggage of literary lineage (who cares if Sherlock knew kung fu in Doyle's books, in 2010 white man kung fu is played out!)
I get that even a bad blockbuster movie with Robert Downey Jr. is still better than one with say, I don't know, Colin Farrell or somebody like that. But seriously, people need to shut the fuck about Iron Man and wake up to the fact that Tony Stark and Sherlock Holmes are Downey Jr. watered down and neutered. We're no longer getting the real deal and that's a bummer.
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