![]() Holmes' problems suddenly seem to multiply. Because, as they say, when the dead return, the living begin to die. And return he does, sending the city in a tizzy. The dark lord promises to return after his death and wreak havoc on London, like never before. Holmes, sulking at the thought of being separated from Watson who's moving out and getting married, is forcibly drawn out of his isolation at the behest of a to-be-hanged Blackwood. This does fill you with a dense of deja vu and makes you long for Conan Doyle's mean criminals, minus the mumbo jumbo. The trouble with Blackwood is he's too much a Dan Brownish character, a member of a special sect, worshipping ancient rituals and traditions, dreaming of world supremacy. But for now, we must contend with a flesh and blood baddie who doesn't really bring out the chills: Lord Blackwood (Mark Strong), the practitioner of black magic who dreams of creating a new world order, born out of fear. The filmmaker does promise to bring us Brad Pitt in the sequel, flashing his brand of evil, as Moriarty. May be it's the shadowy figure of Holmes arch nemesis, Professor Moriarty, that creates somewhat of an unequal fight in this, the detective's first outing. Add to this the slight hint of a bromance between the mercurial Holmes and the more grounded Watson (Jude Law) and you have a complete make over of the classic detective series that thrills but doesn't dazzle. Add to this Robert Downey Jr.'s inherent edginess as reflected in his on and off screen personae and you have Arthur Conan Doyle's Victorian hero give up his deerstalker hat for a rakish insouciance that doesn't make him the most popular inhabitant of 221B Baker Street. But here, there's not only a whole lot of bone-crunching and rib-busting that Holmes joyously indulges in, there's his perpetual grubby look, his overnight stubble, stained shirt and dissolute, world-weary attitude that totally reinvents the character, lock, stock and two smokin' barrels (read Guy Ritchie style).
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