It’s official: Guy Ritchie can still make a good movie.
Sherlock Holmes isn’t as memorable as Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels or Snatch, but it’s a fun time in the theater and that’s all I was really looking for. From the very beginning, it’s clear that Ritchie knows how to handle a big-budget blockbuster: the costumes are lavish, the architecture is ornate, and the set design screams “19th Century London.” The script and art direction perfectly capture the Age of Enlightenment, from the wheels and cogs of the Industrial Revolution to the extreme emphasis on rationalism and the mistrust of religion.
But this isn’t your grandfather’s Sherlock Holmes. This is a Holmes who seems to enjoy beating people up as much as proving he’s smarter than they are. He frequents bare-knuckle boxing arenas (complete with Ritchie’s trademark slow-mo fistfights), takes on henchmen twice his size, and doesn’t think twice about leaping out of tall buildings. This is a Holmes with balls as big as his brains, the kind of detective a 21st-century audience can get behind. Ritchie directs the action set-pieces with a frenetic energy that feels exciting without being disorienting. While there’s quick-cutting galore, there’s no shaky-cam to distract from the geography of the scene, and as a result Sherlock Holmes is at the very least a fun romp through back-alley London.