Mr. Holmes is a superbly acted and lushly appointed British period piece that tells a clever story involving a retired Sherlock Holmes played by the reliably fantastic Ian McKellen. Gracefully directed by Bill Condon and based on the 2005 novel A Slight Trick of the Mind, which was written by Mitch Cullin, the film co-stars Laura Linney as Holmes’ housekeeper Mrs. Munro, with the wonderful young actor Milo Parker as her son Roger. The story takes place primarily during Holmes’ retirement, with flashbacks peppering the narrative featuring a younger Holmes and his investigations, and pivots on the notion that Holmes’s mind has begun its deterioration, as he struggles to recall all of the details to his final case, something that’s haunted him for years. There are more than a few nice surprises in the story, Tobias Schliessler’s unfussy but stylish cinematography keeps things visually interesting at all times, and McKellen was afforded the chance, due to the crafty screenplay, to create a full bodied portrait of one of literatures greatest figures, and it’s clear from frame one that he was delighted to have been given this chance. Carter Burwell’s score immediately sets the mood, and the production design and costumes were top-notch and on par with what you’d expect for this sort of period fare. Condon has proven to be a filmmaker who is hard to pin down; I certainly appreciate the eclecticism of his filmography, which includes Candyman: Farewell to the Flesh (genuinely scary), Gods and Monsters (also starring McKellen), Kinsey (my personal favorite), Dreamgirls (still need to see in its entirety), the underrated and energetically entertaining topical thriller The Fifth Estate, and he’s now hard at work on a big-budget, live-action retelling of Beauty and the Beast. And while I’m not a Twilight person, I applaud Condon’s ability to play in the blockbuster arena and then move back to smaller, more personal pieces. Mr. Holmes is a pleasant movie, the sort of film that will appeal mainly to an older, more adult crowd, and it feels like smart counterprogramming in the sea of summer blockbusters.
Podcasting Them Softly 