“There’s a blog post in this!,” I
exclaimed to the Outlaw and his daughter yesterday when we were foiled not
once, not twice but three times in our attempt to go to see Sherlock
Holmes. My experience, the
previous year, with movies on Christmas day in Salt Lake had been cavernous,
empty, theatres. Me and the lonely boy selling stale popcorn. I am not joking. Even the evening screening of Benjamin
Button had just me and about seven other souls. As that was my first year for films on
Christmas Day in Salt Lake City, I concluded that I was now in a land where
people actually chose to celebrate the holiday with their families and perhaps
even, gasp, in those temples to God that they erect so carefully on nearly
every block.
Either all the Mormons have left Utah or we’ve been
inundated with a whole new population of Robert Downey, Jr. fans who decided
that yesterday was a day of worship at his altar. I am uncertain which it truly is, the 2010 census may tell
us. I can tell you that all
showings of Sherlock Holmes within a 30 mile radius of
my little bungalow were SOLD OUT. Forever and ever, Amen.
This was quite disconcerting. Who were all these people and why were they going to the
movies on Christmas? What happened
to turkey and stuffing and football and spending time playing with the new toys
delivered from Santa?
Heathens!
Briefly, ever so briefly, the three of us considered a
festival of films on the couch, in the comfort of my tiny bungalow, but that
truly felt sacrilegious to me in ways that perhaps only the most dedicated of
film lovers can possibly understand.
I threw a spectacular temper tantrum worthy of any five year old and
became a woman possessed, a girl determined to have Holmes for my holiday!
Do you dance the Fandango? I’ve been going to films at movie theatres for how very many
years? Always just purchasing my
own ticket right at the box office from a smiling teenager. Yesterday, though, I learned a new
dance. Oh, Fandango and your paper
bag puppets how very much I now love you and will sing your praises.
Click of a mouse and we had three guaranteed seats for a
late afternoon screening of Sherlock Holmes. Thank goddess for all things technical and web controlled,
as when we arrived the screening was, of course, SOLD OUT because, as discussed
previously, we are now home here in Utah to every single Robert Downey, Jr. fan
on the entire face of the planet.
Now, about the film.
My first words when it concluded?
“Well, that was Guy Ritchie’s Brokeback Holmes!”
Please don’t let that dissuade you from going to see this
film. It is, actually, a really
great Christmas present wrapped up in a fantastic steam punk bow. Robert Downey, Jr. is awesome as
Sherlock Holmes. The man can act
more with a raised eyebrow than a lot of his cohorts these days and while I’ll
admit right here that I have loved that man since, well, since we were both small
children and he was in my friend, John Sayles’ film Baby It’s You, he’s just
gotten better and better and better.
He delivers a Sherlock we want to both hug and love.
Jude Law is equally lovely as Watson and the two of them
together create just the right underlying, unspoken tension to keep things
interesting. It’s a good match,
much like Redford and Newman, honestly.
Welcome back to Guy Ritchie who has been missing for far too
long. He utilizes his bag of
tricks to keep things really stylized, interesting and lovely to watch, even
when the script itself was going in places it should not have gone. In these days of kids who are spoon fed
on Harry Potter and National Treasure, and, even,Indiana Jones, Sherlock Holmes
delivers as an exciting ride with just the right mix of mystery, explosions and
comedic fun.
