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Sherlock Holmes (2009)
There was a time when people would talk to you about Guy Ritchie. For this brief moment in 1998 (or maybe 1999), there was all this talk about how Guy Ritchie was the Next Big Thing[1]; everyone was all gaga about Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, everyone was all atwitter about how his next shits was going to be called Snatch[2]¸ and in general everyone who cares about shit like that was lining up for their chance to suck Guy Ritchie off[3].
Fortunately, with the exception of this one dude I lived with at the time, and maybe a few of the people I worked with at the video store, I did not know any of these people. Actually, there were probably a fair number of people in the film classes I was taking who were like this as well. OK, sorry; I knew a fuckton of people who wanted to suck off Guy Ritchie, but fortunately I wasn’t friends with any of them. Also, I’m the sort of person who wants to hate on pretty much everything, especially things that seem overrated or overhyped[4]. Consequently, I never saw Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, and I really never saw Snatch[5], and then Guy Ritchie married Madonna and stopped making movies that anyone gave a fuck about.
So anyways, now it’s 2009 and Guy Ritchie and Madonna have aprntly broken up and it seems like our boy has run out of money, so now it’s time to direct some big budget studio shit! Sherlock Holmes!
(Aside: back when I wasn’t watching Snatch, the thing that everyone said about it was that it was hard to understand what the fuck people were saying. Aprntly this is Guy Ritchie’s directorial trademark, because I spent a good amount of Sherlock Holmes wondering what people were saying, and/or who people were. I’d like to make you believe that this was because I was whiskeydrunk at the time, but sadly I think it’s more that 1) I’m deaf and 2) I have no attention span any more. Awesome!)
Anyways, some shit is going on in London and Sherlock and Watson have to save the day. Some dude is using black majick, and Inspector Wallace is totally incompetent. Fortunately, Holmes gives him a bit ‘er the ol’ smacker with the patty pan, and everything is right as rain.
Back at the house, Watson is gettin’ nice! and Sally shows up to tell the ol’ guvna ‘bout ‘ow ‘er knickers a’bin in abitta ye olde twista, and it’s all good! Aprntly, some shit is going on and the key to figuring it out is to find a midget and to wear magical pants and if yer 'ave any idea woss 'appenin' 'ere yor keener ‘an me.
Down at the shityard the midget is dead but fortunately Master Sweeny has the next clue, so it’s off to the bacon factory for some tasty snacks. Everything blows up for no clear reason, and then Sally gets kidnapped by Evil Black Majick Man. Next fin' yer know, it’s off ter the bloody top secret meetin' of the Brimstone Society where Lord Wallace makes a speech and then Steve accidentally shoots 'imself.
At this point, I don’t right 'ave any bloody idea wot’s 'appenin' in the bleedin' movie, but I’ll try ter explain it any road. There’s some conspiracy, right, or sumfink, and somehow the Freemasons Brimstone Society are ter blame, right, again. Lord Blakklord is hammer and tack from the dead, right, and 'e’s all ready ter kill the chuffin' entire team for no discernable reason. Fortunately, Sally is 'ave a lookin’ foxy and there’s a bomb but it doesn’t work because us fellas Chas'n'Dave the day. Woohoo! In the end, Lord Blakklord is defeated, Sally is still 'ave a lookin’ foxy, evry geezer gets sucked off, right, and the movie ends without the threatened Brad Pitt cameo.
I give this movie a 54 on a scale of -85 to 199,000.
->postietoastie
[4] A short list of other things that fall into this category: The Hold Steady, The Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, The White Stripes, the video for “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)”, Uggs, Twitter, Coldplay, the Nintendo Wii, Inglorious Basterds, having friends, Anchorman, 50 Cent, blogging, and pretty much anything that has the word “indie” attached to it.
[5] Teehee!
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