Sherlock Holmes hails as the most portrayed movie character of all time with 75 actors providing their unique spin to Doyle’s legendary character in over 200 films.

Having grown up reading some of the Holmesian “canon”, I always found Basil Rathbone’s, who always portrayed a great antagonist too, portrayal very “true” to the literary characterization of the great detective – as much as I longed for some sardonic wit. I have a friend across the pond who swears Jeremy Brett’s rendition of this classic figure in the 80s and 90s for British television was the most true- to-form.

Yet, due to the canon being so developed and intricate with its various givings and treatments of and back-stories to Holmes, greater difficulty arises in passing judgment over a proper and commendable portrayal of the detective. Many devoted fans even believe there exists a notable difference in Doyle’s version of Holmes after his three year hiatus in the 1890s to focus on historical novels. When challenged on this point, Doyle once wrote in his defense that though Holmes survived the fatal danger of Reichenbach Falls (while fighting Professor Moriarty), he never recovered as the same detective from the pre-Hiatus years.

With the release of the most recent addition to the Doyle adaptations, Sherlock Holmes – starring Robert Downey Jr, Jude Law, and Mark Strong – has fostered much hubbub over its similarities and lack of to the literary legend of lore. “Victorian action hero”, “James Bond of 1891″, “kung fu detective”: these are some of the many sobriquets reviewers have applied to this Guy Ritchie directed version of mystery, violence, and even magic (or is it?).

Now, in all honesty, I am not an impartial reviewer in this case. Guy Ritchie and Quentin Tarantino often have extended fights in my head over who is my favorite director with either Vinnie Jones bashing Tarantino’s head in or Uma Thurman slicing off that of Ritchie’s. Hell, I even find positive merit and interest (no I was not smoking pot) in Ritchie’s philosophical and psychological work, Revolver, which dwindled at the box office and was critically panned. Being fully experienced in this able director’s repertoire, I definitely expected a grittier, more fervid aggression layered into this rendition when entering the theater to screen Sherlock Holmes.

Ritchie has achieved renown for making crime cool and even comedic reaching critical acclaim early-on with Lock, Stock,… and Snatch. So I was not surprised when the straggly-haired, disheveled Holmes did not don his Sidney-Paget-illustrated deerstalker cap and inverness cape. It was the reinvention of Dr. Watson as a a charming and handsome man of action and the plot’s reliance on a magical secret society (Dan Brown’s jealous they thought of it before him) that most struck me. It was the drowning demands of numerous efforts and loose ends that most disappointed me.

Guy Ritchie usually has maintained a level of autonomy and self-creation in his directing and screenwriting. But, with more interest by a major studio in this film’s production and a plot from a plethora of different and differing writers (including Ritchie), the captivating, organic flow of Ritchie’s is lost. The need to mold a new appeal for Holmes, to compliment Ritchie’s energetic desire for driving action, and to remain faithful to the tradition of Doyle all combine with the hope that this new version may – and it will – lay the groundwork for a blockbuster trilogy. And so key characters and characteristics are set forth, discombobulating action ensues, and Holmes’ compensating wit for the Doyle fans expands to a point that doesn’t even fit in the over two-hour run time.

Ritchie wants his quick, pulsating action sequences so he keenly applies Holmes’ skill of deduction to the intimacies of anatomy and the laws of physics as he dissects the impact of potential blows. The studio wants big-action sequences with prolonged intensity vis-a-vis CGI, mass mayhem, and major explosions. A shipyard battle during the middle of the film carries on and disrupts Ritchie’s organic flow to the point that I was reminded of that Family Guy episode where Peter fights the giant chicken. Thus, the problem or shortcoming of Sherlock Holmes is not in a reinvention of character but in a manipulation of nature as the film tries to cater to one too many interests – not to mention serving  as a painstaking, extended teaser for a sequel.

That said, I thoroughly enjoyed this movie; it is definitely one of my favorite of this last year. If anything, I sympathize with Ritchie and am pleased his energetic style helped shape the film into a truly entertaining work. Regardless how picky of a critic one is, I would be surprised if one leaves the theater not at least somewhat delighted by the film. Such adulation does not stem from this film being a mere popcorn-thriller; there are deeper elements at work here. Hans Zimmer composes, as always expected, a wondrous score, which has already received honors; Sarah Greenwood led a superb production design team to reimagine a gritty, dark, and vivid Victorian era London.

The casting is commendable. Mark Strong, whose physique and appearance probably better resembles Doyle’s conception of what Holmes would look like, plays Lord Blackwood – an evil murderer who desires to take over an ancient secret society through “magic” in order to wield the power of the British Empire. Strong truly demonstrates himself as a versatile actor once again; sadly, because of his skill, audiences rarely recognize him on screen as he superbly alters his appearance per role – my favorite being the analytical, anxious, and austere hitman in Revolver. Downey’s “Holmes” provides the audience with a more endearing character, who ponders and pontificates for laughs as much for the law (I look forward to a YouTube mash-up of this Holmes with Hugh Laurie’s “Dr. House” whose apartment number references that of the great detective). Jude Law brings an air of freshness and openness to the role of Watson – a welcome considering Law’s up-tight persona when often in character. Instead of a bumbling, loyal follower like prior adaptations, Dr. Watson freely engages in verbose tit-for-tat with Holmes making the duo quite the “Odd Couple”.

Some reviewers have even stated that the presence of Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams), a fan favorite from the Doyle series and love/infatuation interest of Holmes, primarily works to diffuse the homoerotic nature of Holmes and Watson. Now, as Adler is a key character for this potential film series, I felt her appearance made sense; McAdams performed her role superbly making her tainted and irresistible allure towards Holmes felt by the viewer. Yes, Holmes becomes all emo over his dear friend Watson moving on with his life; yet, even in “The Adventure of the Three Garridebs”, the stoic Holmes expresses sorrow at the sight of his partner in crime solving being slightly wounded. If anything, this bro-mance aims for the film to take on a more engaging and amusing appeal through such banter and wit…not to establish some homoerotic subtext.

In the midst of all the burlesque and action, I do believe that Doyle would find his detective of old still alive on the screen. At times, Ritchie seems to even go out of his way to keep the tradition alive. The sometimes patriotic Holmes adorns his Baker Street walls with “VR” (Victoria Regina), he demonstrates a talent for disguise, he cuts himself to perform experiments, he’s a habitual tobacco user, and he boasts quite the “bohemian” (as Watson would say) lifestyle in his cluttered living quarters. With his expressions and delivery, Downey nicely displays Holmes’ eccentric nature and givings to OCD and ADHD symptoms; in the stories, Doyle made Holmes into a morphine addict and habitual cocaine user – a quick line here and there in the movie would have surely explained some of the detective’s idiosyncrasy and behavior.

Though rarely carried out in Doyle’s telling of Watson’s account, it is surely feasible for Holmes to be capable of such violence as portrayed in the film. In the books, Watson tells the readers of Holmes various capabilities whether they be the mastery of singlestick, skill with a blade, expertise in baritsu, or a knack for bare-knuckle fighting (as the detective had a former career making a name for himself in the ring).

The continued adaptations and revisions of Sir Doyle’s classic character can bring about much debate and analysis over authenticity. What should be recognized instead is the versatility and enduring nature of Holmes – a character that has even been lampooned by Gene Wilder. Sherlock Holmes does not reinvent the shrewd sleuth. It builds upon the original source material while infusing it with new life. The voiced-over, slow-motion action sequences and the nefarious aims of a magical secret society both cater to modern audience interests – interests following the success of the likes of the Bourne movies and the DaVinci Code.  We like our action fast and our humor even faster. This is Guy Ritchie’s playground, which he’ll hopefully perfect with sequels to come.

Roger Moore, upon the release of Quantum of Solace, lamented the loss of the Bond tradition and denounced the new proclivities of James Bond to violence saying, “that’s keeping up with the times. It’s what cinema-goers seem to want and it’s proved by the box office figures.” Unlike Moore, I think Doyle would accept the reinvigorating of his Holmes today. Undeniably, the popularity of the movie in itself will spur more interest than before in the author’s works. And, if Holmes has to evolve to fit a modern audience’s view and be a financial success…? Well, Doyle would accept that too. After all, it was Doyle who revived a different Holmes from the dead after “the Great Hiatus” – much to the welcome of well paying publishers.

Holmes’ acute perceptions and penetrating deductions, though overwhelming at times when needing to meld all the loose elements together, truly come off as natural and effortless by Downey – trademark Holmes. On contraire, it is the movie’s overreaching demands and hopes as an epic, Hollywood action flick desperate to distinguish itself from a popcorn-thriller fray that comes off as dragooned and forced upon the screen. So, Sherlock Holmes falls short in at least one respect to the traditional sleuth: it tries to be more than it can – with noticeable intent. Still, Downey’s Holmes provides a balance to all that the movie aspires to and Ritchie’s penchant for entertaining flair keeps the viewer engaged. Not elementary, Watson. But still good, movie-watching fun.

When I noticed today that The Ugly Truth had beaten out G.I. Joe for UK’s top box office spot (looks like the Global Joe bet didn’t pay off – see prior review), I decided to give Robert Luketic’s pseudo chick-flick (or is it?) a try.

Katherine Heigl, whose claim-to-fame is Apatow’s Knocked Up, plays an “in-control” TV producer, Abby, for a morning news show (cue toolish hosts, fat weatherman, and cooking tips). The problem is that Abby seems to be having trouble with ratings for the news station almost as much as she has trouble finding a man.

The problem is that Abby seems to be having trouble with ratings for the news station almost as much as she has trouble finding a man. Now, I had to suspend some disbelief as Heigl is absolutely gorgeous; I’m sure some men would even sit through her reviewing their profiles, citing background checks, and checking her list of ten ideals in a man. By the way, Heigl’s performance truly comes off naturally and amusing whether she’s doing one of her victory dances, yelling for help while dangling from a tree in just her undergarments, or having a public display of pleasure in a restaurant – a scene which gives “When Harry Met Sally” a run for its money.

To counter the ratings slump, Abby’s (Heigl) boss hires the host of “The Ugly Truth”, Mike (Gerard Butler), whose unshaven ruggedness is almost as coarse as his misogynistic and basal relationship advice (men aren’t aliens from Mars…they’re apes from the jungle who act on their infatuations of lust, desire, and sex). Granted, Mike would probably be brought in on sexual harrassment charges in today’s modern work environment but the network needs him; in turn, Mike boosts ratings (even the female viewership approves) and rekindles the passion of the news show’s anchors (perfectly casted and played by Cheryl Hines and John Michael Higgins) while frolicking in jello with scantily clad beauties and showing video of primates mating during his advice segments.

Abby finds Mike as nothing more than the “lowest common denominator” of man with no class and incapable of love. Mike finds Abby as nothing more than a neurotic, control-freak with no confidence in her femininity. And here comes a predictable (yet fun) romantic comedy plot:

Mike agrees to teach Abby what a man wants from push-up bras, to hair extensions, to not controlling the situation so she can win over a guy instead of just daydreaming of finding the ideal man with a symmetrical face and a moral compass (a point many lib critics took issue with i.e. “why can’t Abby just be single and sexually confident”). Mike repulses Abby; Abby despises Mike. Mike agrees to quit if he can’t get Abby’s neighbor, a doctor, to fall for her. A friendship ensues between Mike and Abby during the process…the burly and leathery Mike wants to be a respectable father-figure for his nephew and is revealed to have a wounded heart…feelings develop…and…

Yet, The Ugly Truth is not the expected and standard romantic comedy. It takes risks that How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days never did or could have. Robert Luketic (also directed Legally Blonde) creates a film that appeals to both the Superbad crowd and the P.S. – I Love You crowd. Put in some incessant penis and sex banter, cast the rugged Butler for a lead role (you can just picture him screaming “Madness? This is my bedroom!!!”), slap an R-rating on it and guys are enthusiastically going to the theater with their girls. This hybrid of the male-focused comedy like The Hangover with the female-focused romantic comedy, though rough in the mixture at times, actually comes off in the end as a sexy, fun, summery piece, which isn’t as shallow as we might expect.

After watching the film, I found one of my better halves belittling me for “discussing a chick flick” upon texting her a couple thoughts about the film. And that’s when I realized I had been duped! I had engrossed myself and thoroughly enjoyed a chick flick in disguise!

Kirsten Smith, Nocle Eastman, and Karen Lutz (the three female – yes, female – writers)  produced a script that has its fleeting and shallow moments of amusement; yet, in the end, the girl doesn’t simply degrade herself by falling for the lowest common denominator instead of the ideal doctor. Love blossoms where once thought it couldn’t and respectful reality sets in. So after vibrating panties are donned and caviar is spat out when the guy’s not looking, the hair extensions come off and Abby realizes that you can’t deceive yourself by being who you’re not to get the guy you want.

So see the film at some point – I recommend waiting for it to come out on DVD and blue-ray. Maybe for once the guy will sit down with his girl and actually enjoy “movie night” instead of just wondering when it will be over and the sex begins. And that my friends is the ugly truth.

When I first heard that G.I. Joe was going to be made into a live-action film, a shot of childhood nostalgia encompassed my entire being as I drifted off pondering the Hollywood incarnations of laughing gas balloons, a WWF-inspired Sergeant Savage, a traumatically deranged and emotionally disturbed Cobra Commander, and kick-ass, flag-waving “real American heroes”. Heck, I thought, maybe there will even be a cheesy public service announcement during the credits roll: “remember kids, never yell fire in a crowded theater…and knowing is half the battle.”

But then I realized, that was then; this is now. I immediately conceded the hope of Hollywood unabashedly lauding a little American patriotism in a film. As expected, G.I. Joe no longer is a “real American hero” but rather embodies something like an elite world-wide police force – Team America on a global scale except the writers weren’t trying to produce such a painfully, catch-phrased, one-liner script (“haystack in a coal mine”).

Still, I’m sort of an international man and I wasn’t going to be the type to boycott the film just because it doesn’t have an “Uhmerican” stamp of approval. I remember hearing some of my right-leaning friends, jealous in their nostalgia and zealous in their nationalism, condemn the new G.I. Joe as the “A-Team for the UN”. In my opinion, if the UN’s forces were half as effective and fervid as the new G.I. Joe, then maybe it could actually make a difference in the world and instead of passing a resolution actually kick some ass when some bastard tries his hand at genocide.

Politics aside, the bastardization of G.I. Joe is, in all honesty, disheartening. The plot had already written itself in the old T.V. series for Paramount to use. Yet, I guess the studio suits thought if they could dumb down G.I. Joe into a simple good guy versus bad guy plot with no deeper significance, add some mediocre CGI, and blow a bunch of shit up, they could fill their coffers (“Transformers 2 did it!”).

Well, if this is what Paramount had planned, then they’ll probably succeed. There’s a reason most moviegoers shun en masse the dramatically touching films that most critics hail as divine, while expressing a sincere, dumbfounded surprise that such works can’t make a buck. Reading Manohla Dargis’ review of G.I. Joe over at the New York Times reminds me why we think reviewers don’t have real jobs, “get off” by criticizing everything, and ignorantly write out of their cultural elitism.

Dargis probably never saw or will see the original G.I. Joe. She compares Channing Tatum’s Duke to a “gung-ho John Wayne”; she finds the movie as too “flag waving” for her tastes. Yes, I can’t believe the film dared to show a flag on top of the White House or on a table at a send-off for American troops. And, Channing Tatum is John Wayne? Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t Tatum almost turn down the role as Duke because he’s an outspoken anti-war advocate? Now, I must agree with Dargis that I found the scene of mass devastation in Paris – “the epicenter of contemporary evil” (cue liberal haughtiness) – as notable not because it makes the flag-waving “purely pro forma” but because it was G.I. Joe saving Paris and not destroying it.

As an aside, I apologize for the direct attack on the New York Times. The paper is a truly respectable news source when you need to dumb down your IQ a bit with reporting which puts facts on the side of tabloid news. For the record, I  recommend The Economist and the Wall Street Journal as rational alternatives.

All joking done with, Dargis’ review is an archetype of many today and why we often say “who gives a shit”, while the critics, in turn, dumbfoundedly question why we go see a popcorn-candy thriller. Now, let’s truly consider the movie on its merits.

G.I. Joe is an alright film – worth seeing at the theater. It has all the ingredients for a summer, fun flick leaving the audience full of cheesy dialogue, CGI explosions, massive collateral damage, and a slow-motion, badass walk by the good guys. Discarding most plot points or even offshoots of the original G.I. Joe, the writers opted for what they thought was plot depth by concocting a disarranged and predictable storyline jumping back-and-forth to scenes of action and historical context.

The G.I. Joe cast comes from an eclectic background with the always reliable and no-nonsense Dennis Quaid as General Hawk, the Shakespearian Jonathan Pryce as the U.S. President, the TV-star Rachel Nichols as Scarlett, and the “comedian” Marlon Wayans as Ripcord; Rex, Duke, and the Countess all have independent roots (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Channing Tatum, and Sienna Miller). The acting comes as the best it can with the provided script. But, do we really go see G.I. Joe for the academy-award winning performances? No. Sienna Miller is hot. That’s what matters to the “average Joe” in the audience.

If the uncredited cameo by Brendan Fraser as Sergeant Stone didn’t give away that the “Mummy” Stephen Sommers was directing (also Arnold Vosloo as Zartan),
then hopefully the continual use of cheap CGI and unimpressive action should have. In all honesty though, Sommers’ work has been quite excellent in the past – I thoroughly enjoyed “The Mummy”. I just figured that Sommers would be able to use CGI technology that isn’t from 1999 by now.

The other problem Sommers has is that he often overrides impressive bouts of action by his actors with his CGI use. For example, while animated, combat submarines blow the crap out of each other and an animated jet tries to shoot down animated missiles, Sommers intertwines a commendable fight scene between Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow with everything else going on. Both Byung-hun Lee (Storm Shadow) and Ray Park (Snake Eyes) truly work well with each other in their timing and choreography. Park, who doesn’t have a line of dialogue in the film, has established himself as one of the best stuntmen and martial artists in the industry. From his beginnings in Mortal Kombat: Annihilation, to playing Sith Lord Darth Maul in Star Wars: Episode I, to his role in G.I. Joe, I look forward to seeing Park’s performances in the future (Mandalay Pictures has cast him as Rugal Bernstein in their upcoming King of Fighters remake).

At the end of the day, Sommers often shoots himself in the foot. He puts out a decent, enjoyable film (like The Mummy) and then follows it up with reaching and lacking sequels that seem endless. With the ending of G.I. Joe ushering in an apparent sequel and as Paramount has signed Quaid as General Hawk for at least two more sequels, let’s hope Sommers breaks his “Mummy” curse and produces entertaining and worthy sequels for the G.I. Joe namesake.