movies
BY MOLLY TEMPLETON
From Ballrooms to Boxing Rings
Victorian England, refined and gritty
THE YOUNG VICTORIA: Directed by Jean-Marc
Vallée. Written by Julian Fellowes. Cinematography,
Hagen Bogdanski. Editors, Jill Bilcock and Matt
Garner. Music, Ilan Eshkeri. Starring Emily Blunt,
Rupert Friend, Paul Bettany, Miranda Richardson,
Mark Strong and Jim Broadbent. Apparition, 2009.
PG. 100 minutes. 44411
SHERLOCK HOLMES: Directed by Guy Ritchie.
Screenplay by Michael Robert Johnson, Anthony
Peckham and Simon Kinberg; screen story by Lionel
Wigram and Michael Robert Johnson. Based on
the characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Cinematography, Philippe Rousselot. Editor, James
Herbert. Music, Hans Zimmer. Starring Robert
Downey Jr., Jude Law, Rachel McAdams, Mark
Strong, Eddie Marsan and Kelly Reilly. Warner Bros.
Pictures, 2009. PG-13. 128 minutes. 44421
I
f you haven’t familiarized yourself
with the names and titles of the
participants in 1830s English court
intrigue, you may want to pause for a
quick Google before watching The Young
Victoria. The fi lm, which falters slightly
with its poor-little-rich-girl introduction
(justifi ed as it may be), quickly introduces
sirs and lords and dukes and duchesses
who populate its frames, and at fi rst it is all
dreadfully important: Will Victoria (Emily
Blunt) be able to resist the controlling force
of her mother (Miranda Richardson) and
her mother’s conniving adviser, Sir John
Conroy (Mark Strong)? When she is queen,
who will challenge the infl uence kind and
wily Lord Melbourne (Paul Bettany) has
on her? Which of the handsome young
fellows with the Fleet Foxes haircuts is
actually the future Prince Albert (that’d be
Rupert Friend, the blonder one)? Was King
William (Jim Broadbent) really as grumpy
as that?
Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law in
Sherlock Holmes
assist rather than control her. He’s the one
to suggest she master the games played by
politicians and courtiers, rather than taking
advice from those who have already done
so; he’s the one who says she should fi nd
a husband who will play these games with
her, not for her.
Obviously, no other suitor stands a
chance, and thankfully the fi lm doesn’t
pretend otherwise. It sweeps us through
impossibly golden-lit ballrooms, an
extravagant coronation, a few taut dinners
and some lengthy strolls through perfectly
controlled English gardens not in order
to give a history lesson, but to consider
Emily Blunt and Rupert Friend
in The Young Victoria
Soon after Victoria (Emily Blunt,
calm and graceful) ascends the throne,
however, it becomes quite clear that the
most important court machinations, in the
story writer Julian Fellowes and director
Jean-Marc Vallée are telling, are those that
concern the matter of marriage. The intrigue
is good fun, as it often appears a bit absurd
from this remove (the mayhem caused by
the queen’s refusal to dismiss and replace
a few ladies in waiting is historically quite
real, yet seems ridiculous in the fi lm). But
it’s simply here for background, and to set
up the relationship between Victoria and
Albert, the one man who truly wants to
the more intimate balance and shift of
power occasioned by Victoria’s marriage.
The Young Victoria fl its through multiple
courts, looking only briefl y at the ordinary
English population (about whom Victoria
often worries, asking whose job it is to
look after them). But only as the fi lm
glides to its (somewhat embellished) end
does it fi nd a greater idea that sets it apart
from the other nice, well-designed, solidly
acted but vaguely unsatisfying period
pieces of the last few years (The Duchess,
Becoming Jane, Amazing Grace). When
Victoria and Albert marry, the power the
queen fought so quietly and tirelessly to
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maintain becomes something to share;
Albert becomes not a consort but a partner.
Sharing responsibilities and balancing
control doesn’t come to them instantly.
The bumps on the road to the throne were
temporary; the bumps in fi guring out a
lasting partnership, far less so.
I
t’s a delightful shock to move
from the gilded privilege of Queen
Victoria’s London to Guy Ritchie’s
Sherlock Holmes. Holmes takes place in a
London slightly less long ago but equally
far away, which is to say Guy Ritchie’s
London: grubby, gritty, brown and gray,
occasionally damaged by mediocre CGI
and always splashed with black-robed bad
guys and the extraordinarily lovely suits
of its heroes. Sherlock Holmes is not for
everyone, but it is a movie for those of
us who like our heroes dressed as more
Victorian versions of Giles from Buffy the
Vampire Slayer and who cannot get enough
tweed, waitcoats, pert hats, bustles, steam-
powered innovations and witty remarks.
There is enough witty banter here to
supply several lesser movies, and most
of it passes ever so charmingly between
Holmes (Robert Downey Jr., a disheveled
delight) and Watson (Jude Law, playing a
delicious straight man to Downey’s cranky,
manic genius). Their unexpected chemistry
carries the fi lm; Rachel McAdams and
Mark Strong, the current go-to Evil English
Guy, both offer reliably able assists, but the
proceedings drag a bit when either Law or
Downey Jr. is offscreen.
Thankfully, their absences are
infrequent. Sherlock Holmes has a
ridiculous and entertaining plot involving
one Lord Blackwood (Strong) and his
plan to take over the world (starting
with England). It’s enough story to send
Holmes and Watson ricocheting around
London, destroying shipyards, poking
through laboratories full of dead things,
avoiding getting killed, looking dapper,
bickering and occasionally rescuing a fair
maiden or two. Their personal lives are
complicated by Watson’s fi ancée, whose
presence Holmes petulantly resents, and
by Irene Adler (McAdams), a whip-smart
American who has a past with Sherlock.
She seems a bit young for him, but Adler’s
slipperiness — hidden behind a sweet and
beguiling smile, the way the sleeves of
her gorgeous gowns hide the occasional
weapon — is a good match for his intellect,
which works over everything, every detail,
until the pieces fi t together and Holmes
has a chance to deliver one of many rather
Bond-villain-esque speeches in which he
explains what the hell is going on.
Ritchie has a knack for capturing and
encouraging dry banter (even when it’s
scripted by a handful of writers) and here
he also shows an eye for lush interiors (the
elaborate production design is by Sarah
Greenwood, who also did Atonement). His
movies share a sense of ferocious glee, a
mapcap feeling that keeps things interesting
even when the action on screen stumbles
(as it does from time to time, particularly
when fi ght scenes play out in a muddle of
disconnected swinging fi sts and landed
punches). Sherlock is a mite shallow, but
the frenetic charm of Downey Jr. and Law
— as they play endlessly, affectionately,
sincerely against each other — gives just
enough weight and spark to the rest of the
proceedings. If the last few minutes are
only there to open the door for the sequel,
take heart: A name dropped just before the
end is at least enough to suggest that next
time, Holmes will have a nemesis worthy
of his brilliance.
ew
movie clips
OPENING OR RETURNING:
Me and Orson Welles: Richard Linklater
directs Zac Efron. Surely that information alone
should be enough to get you into the theater?
No? Oh, fi ne: Efron plays an aspiring actor who
lands a role for Orson Welles’ (Christian McKay)
production of Julius Caesar. Claire Danes is his
older-woman love interest. PG-13. Bijou.
Rome, Open City: The LCC/DIVA Open Lens
seminar shows Roberto Rossellini’s 1945 fi lm,
a war drama set in Nazi-occupied Rome. “The
total effect of the picture is a sense of real
experience,” said The New York Times. 7 pm
Tuesday, Jan. 5, at DIVA. $3.
Films open the Friday following EW pub-
lication date unless otherwise noted. See
archived reviews at www.eugeneweekly.com
EUGENE WEEKLY DECEMBER 31, 2009 21