Sherlock Holmes tries to solve the 'Jack The Ripper' murders. The scenario seems ideal for a story: the most famous fictional detective of the Victorian era pitted against the most notorious (real life) serial killer of the time. The formula had been used before, of course, but on first impressions Murder By Decree seems to have been a careful and considered treatment of the idea rather than a quickly-thrown-together, sensationalist gimmick. It boasts high production values with a star-studded cast, some great sets, and generally very good direction and cinematography. It's also clear that the makers actually bothered to do their research into the Whitechapel killings of 1888, with plenty of historically-accurate references included in the screenplay.
Perhaps that's one of the first problems. Just how far does one go with accuracy? Because the more the plot ties in to the actual historical events, the more it becomes constrained. For instance, everyone knows that the killings ceased abruptly and that Ripper was never apprehended, with his identity never having been categorically established, so straight off you know that this film is probably going to end with Holmes being triumphant (of course) but forced, for whatever reason, to keep quiet about the whole affair. Also, the more historically accurate one makes a story, the more it jars when certain historical details are deliberately ignored, and that is problem number two.
However, trying to overlook the real history and judge Murder By Decree as a piece of fiction in its own right, I did struggle with it more and more as the story progressed. First off, Holmes and Watson, two characters that have been interpreted on screen by countless different performers. Here we have Christopher Plummer as Holmes with James Mason as Watson. Whilst both are watchable characters, only Watson came close to really working for me. Holmes seems a little too human and pedestrian, he never once fully conveys the energetic, sharp mind going off in all directions, or even a hint of the depression he sinks into if he hasn't got something for his mind to work at.
And if Holmes himself is too pedestrian, then that is symptomatic of the overall pace of the film. There's never a sense of growing urgency or menace.
As for the way the plot plays out, it really crumbles under any scrutiny. One scene in particular stands out as absurd for a number of reasons, which is one about 18 minutes in where Holmes arrives to see the latest body that has been found. Watson, an experienced medical man, can't stomach the gruesome sight of the mutilated corpse. He also twice tries to dissuade Holmes from asking for details on the grounds of taste, when surely as his long-time confidante he would know that such information is essential if the murderer is to be found and stopped. As Police Commissioner Sir Charles Warren, Anthony Quayle derides Holmes as an amateur when he clearly has a distinguished reputation (given that virtually everybody else in the film is aware of who he is). Mary Kelly, supposedly in fear of her life and in hiding, is among the onlookers. Then, to cap it all, Holmes picks up the remnant stalks from a bunch of grapes off the ground, which could have come from anyone in the crowd or been lying there for days, which ultimately provide a vital clue as to the identity of the murderer - how convenient!
The unravelling of the mystery isn't very satisfying for the viewer who wants to play along, as answers are provided not so much from clues but from, variously, Holmes' knowledge of freemasons, the experiences of a psychic, or again from Mary Kelly whom nobody can track down except for Holmes who correctly guesses that she will risk life and limb to needlessly attend a particular event. Watson arguably does as much of the traditional investigative work by finding the link between the victims - which is so straightforward that you wonder how the press never managed to work it out, never mind the police.
Oh, and if you're going to kill someone in their home and spend a while mutilating their body, wouldn't you think to close the curtains so that passers-by won't be able to see what you're up to?
The eventual come-uppance of the villain is similarly ludicrous, sadly, but at least it makes for an energetic finale. Except that it isn't, because the film eschews the usual brief wrapping-up scene in favour of an extended and rather tedious epilogue. Although in print Sherlock Holmes was always a champion of the establishment, here he is repulsed by it, yet most damning of all, he not only helped bring about the death of one of the victims, he also ultimately had no real influence on the outcome.
In conclusion, the scenario and the overall look of the film, with its strong cast, will get most viewers through it as long as they don't mind the usual cliches of Victorian London being foggy every single night and Jack The Ripper going round in a top hat and cape. But with its pacing problems it may require a bit of staying power, and it likely won't be a film you'll want to revisit frequently.
Perhaps that's one of the first problems. Just how far does one go with accuracy? Because the more the plot ties in to the actual historical events, the more it becomes constrained. For instance, everyone knows that the killings ceased abruptly and that Ripper was never apprehended, with his identity never having been categorically established, so straight off you know that this film is probably going to end with Holmes being triumphant (of course) but forced, for whatever reason, to keep quiet about the whole affair. Also, the more historically accurate one makes a story, the more it jars when certain historical details are deliberately ignored, and that is problem number two.
However, trying to overlook the real history and judge Murder By Decree as a piece of fiction in its own right, I did struggle with it more and more as the story progressed. First off, Holmes and Watson, two characters that have been interpreted on screen by countless different performers. Here we have Christopher Plummer as Holmes with James Mason as Watson. Whilst both are watchable characters, only Watson came close to really working for me. Holmes seems a little too human and pedestrian, he never once fully conveys the energetic, sharp mind going off in all directions, or even a hint of the depression he sinks into if he hasn't got something for his mind to work at.
And if Holmes himself is too pedestrian, then that is symptomatic of the overall pace of the film. There's never a sense of growing urgency or menace.
As for the way the plot plays out, it really crumbles under any scrutiny. One scene in particular stands out as absurd for a number of reasons, which is one about 18 minutes in where Holmes arrives to see the latest body that has been found. Watson, an experienced medical man, can't stomach the gruesome sight of the mutilated corpse. He also twice tries to dissuade Holmes from asking for details on the grounds of taste, when surely as his long-time confidante he would know that such information is essential if the murderer is to be found and stopped. As Police Commissioner Sir Charles Warren, Anthony Quayle derides Holmes as an amateur when he clearly has a distinguished reputation (given that virtually everybody else in the film is aware of who he is). Mary Kelly, supposedly in fear of her life and in hiding, is among the onlookers. Then, to cap it all, Holmes picks up the remnant stalks from a bunch of grapes off the ground, which could have come from anyone in the crowd or been lying there for days, which ultimately provide a vital clue as to the identity of the murderer - how convenient!
The unravelling of the mystery isn't very satisfying for the viewer who wants to play along, as answers are provided not so much from clues but from, variously, Holmes' knowledge of freemasons, the experiences of a psychic, or again from Mary Kelly whom nobody can track down except for Holmes who correctly guesses that she will risk life and limb to needlessly attend a particular event. Watson arguably does as much of the traditional investigative work by finding the link between the victims - which is so straightforward that you wonder how the press never managed to work it out, never mind the police.
Oh, and if you're going to kill someone in their home and spend a while mutilating their body, wouldn't you think to close the curtains so that passers-by won't be able to see what you're up to?
The eventual come-uppance of the villain is similarly ludicrous, sadly, but at least it makes for an energetic finale. Except that it isn't, because the film eschews the usual brief wrapping-up scene in favour of an extended and rather tedious epilogue. Although in print Sherlock Holmes was always a champion of the establishment, here he is repulsed by it, yet most damning of all, he not only helped bring about the death of one of the victims, he also ultimately had no real influence on the outcome.
In conclusion, the scenario and the overall look of the film, with its strong cast, will get most viewers through it as long as they don't mind the usual cliches of Victorian London being foggy every single night and Jack The Ripper going round in a top hat and cape. But with its pacing problems it may require a bit of staying power, and it likely won't be a film you'll want to revisit frequently.