When vicious murders begin occurring in the equivalent of London's red light district, who do concerned citizens turn to? Why Sherlock Holmes, of course! While the fictional detective wasn't actually around during London's gaslight era when these foggily lit murders took place, it makes fictional sense that eventually somebody would pit the notoriously named Jack the Ripper against London's most well loved detective prior to Miss Marple. If it couldn't be Basil Rathbone, then some other famous British thespian had to take over. In this case, it is Christopher Plummer, as far away from the Edelweiss of "The Sound of Music's" Salzburg as he could get.
Plummer gives (in this reviewer's opinion), his best performance as the pipe smoking and argyle cap wearing detective. While I agree he is one of Britain's greatest gifts to the theatre and cinema, I often took pause with his slow moving speech and frequent stalls in reciting his lines. That is totally missing here, and he gives a relaxed and often humorous performance that isn't as hyper as Rathbone's but just as riveting. Just as outstanding is James Mason, taking over Nigel Bruce's role as Dr. Watson. While slightly bumbling, he isn't as eccentric as Bruce was, and as a result, is taken more seriously. In a nod to Mary Gordon (Mrs. Hudson in the Rathbone/Bruce films), the brief appearance of Holmes' landlady is hysterically amusing because of the bit actresses' resemblance to the wonderful Ms. Gordon.
As the storyline unfolds, it is obvious that the writers are developing something more sinister than just the whims of a madman killing prostitutes. It is almost devilish in its innuendos as clues are dropped that give enough information to the viewers to guess what is going on, yet keep them intrigued as well. In smaller roles, Donald Sutherland, Anthony Quayle and Frank Finlay shine, while brief appearances by "Webster's" Susan Clark (whatever happened to her????) and Genevieve Bujold are extremely haunting.
Why this film was overlooked at awards time is beyond me, especially for Plummer, Mason and its moody photography. Everything about this film is exquisite and with recent, more youthful looks at Holmes and Watson, this entry in the popular series is worth re-discovering.
Plummer gives (in this reviewer's opinion), his best performance as the pipe smoking and argyle cap wearing detective. While I agree he is one of Britain's greatest gifts to the theatre and cinema, I often took pause with his slow moving speech and frequent stalls in reciting his lines. That is totally missing here, and he gives a relaxed and often humorous performance that isn't as hyper as Rathbone's but just as riveting. Just as outstanding is James Mason, taking over Nigel Bruce's role as Dr. Watson. While slightly bumbling, he isn't as eccentric as Bruce was, and as a result, is taken more seriously. In a nod to Mary Gordon (Mrs. Hudson in the Rathbone/Bruce films), the brief appearance of Holmes' landlady is hysterically amusing because of the bit actresses' resemblance to the wonderful Ms. Gordon.
As the storyline unfolds, it is obvious that the writers are developing something more sinister than just the whims of a madman killing prostitutes. It is almost devilish in its innuendos as clues are dropped that give enough information to the viewers to guess what is going on, yet keep them intrigued as well. In smaller roles, Donald Sutherland, Anthony Quayle and Frank Finlay shine, while brief appearances by "Webster's" Susan Clark (whatever happened to her????) and Genevieve Bujold are extremely haunting.
Why this film was overlooked at awards time is beyond me, especially for Plummer, Mason and its moody photography. Everything about this film is exquisite and with recent, more youthful looks at Holmes and Watson, this entry in the popular series is worth re-discovering.