Bill Condon’s Mr. Holmes finds our eponymous detective in a reclusive, contemplative mood. This is not your Benedict Cumberbatch or Robert Downey Jr., rushing about solving mysteries with much gusto and extravagant flair, but something altogether new. Sir Ian McKellen stars as an aged Sherlock (93 years old, to be precise) returning to a quiet life on the coast where he aims to live out his final years tending to his bees, all the while attempting to unlock the memories that will help him recall his final case. The story flits – somewhat haphazardly – between the English coastline and Holmes’ adventures past in Japan and London, the ancient sleuth utilising his present company (Laura Linney a put-upon housekeeper Mrs. Munro and Milo Parker as her son Roger) to sew the torn pieces together again.





To describe the central performance as show-stealing is to understate how all-encompassing and invigorating McKellen is as a creaking, grumbling Sherlock. The usual displaying of honesty over heart that Conan Doyle’s character is known for remains, but also an exudence of the sensibilities notable in a slowly-softening grandfather. This is both utterly compelling and also achingly honest for anyone who has sat and heard stories delivered by a beloved yet wavering grandparent in their dotage.





Linney and Parker are completely believable and constantly engrossing as the mother/son duo that slip in and out of love with the arrival of Mr. Holmes, the former disapproving of his apparent effect on the latter’s behaviour. Linney reminds us all why she was Oscar nominated not once, not twice, but three times, whilst Parker displays remarkable prowess as the precocious Roger, wandering curiously in the wake of Sherlock, never once intimidated by his reputation or put off by the detective’s grumpy disposition.





and our cast of characters guessing all the way as it leaps backwards and forwards in time from pre-blitz London to post-war shorelines. Period detail is a given in almost any Sherlock Holmes story, but here it feels more inviting than intrusive, providing a well-groomed backdrop to the story that doesn’t run amuck, not repeatedly reminding you that you’re in the past, as so many period pieces do. Said detail is bathed in Tobias Schliessler’s gorgeous golden cinematography and enveloped in Carter Burwell’s score, which is understated yet affecting in the right places with the timing of a meticulously-assembled pocket watch. The mystery itself is as intriguing as any classic Doyle story, leaving the audienceour cast of characters guessing all the way as it leaps backwards and forwards in time from pre-blitz London to post-war shorelines. Period detail is a given in almost any Sherlock Holmes story, but here it feels more inviting than intrusive, providing a well-groomed backdrop to the story that doesn’t run amuck, not repeatedly reminding you that you’re in the past, as so many period pieces do. Said detail is bathed in Tobias Schliessler’s gorgeous golden cinematography and enveloped in Carter Burwell’s score, which is understated yet affecting in the right places with the timing of a meticulously-assembled pocket watch.





Mr. Holmes, it is this: truth, logic and vigilance must remain ever-present, but the knowledge of when and how to use them in co-ordination with faith, understanding and gentleness is greater still. Here lies the cinematic equivalent of a tale told by a wise grandparent: some of their delivery is a little shambolic and the odd piece is missing, but an important fable lies at the centre. In the case of dear old, it is this: truth, logic and vigilance must remain ever-present, but the knowledge of when and how to use them in co-ordination with faith, understanding and gentleness is greater still.





★ ★

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