Two Sherlock Holmes articles up today!

Fantasy Magazine has the review proper (beware minor spoilers, though the plot is so terrible that spoilers can only help).

The, at Tor.com, I talk about some other, better Sherlock Holmeses. RDJ actually makes the Best Of list, mostly because he’s such an intense actor that he gives his all even when the movie makes no sense. Also on that list is Rupert Everett, back when he was a good actor and hadn’t yet gone off the handle and gotten more Botox than Joan Rivers. (Oh, RUPERT.) Luckily, he is immortalized in The Case of the Silk Stocking, amidst Awesome British Actor Camp vets, doing a lovely job.

Sadly, that’s not so with Christopher Lee, who remains one of the worst Sherlocks I’ve ever seen in my LIFE. I love that guy so much, but I do not know why he didn’t cut and run when he saw that he was going up against MORGAN FAIRCHILD, oh my GOD.

I’ve gotten some recap requests, so in the next few days I’ll be running down the two recent BBC adaptations with their one-off Sherlocks, and possibly the Livanov version of Hound of the Baskervilles, in which Sherlock Holmes is cooler than you, even if you are also Sherlock Holmes.

So, among the many graduates of Awesome British Actor Camp, there’s a little subculture of actors who are probably perfectly nice people who enjoy things like accounting and pinochle. Unfortunately, they have a particular aura about them that make them look like escapees from a gang of creepers.

If they really were a gang, and nine of them were being chosen to go up to the Bronx to hear Cyrus give his big speech, Cillian Murphy would be the leader. Dude is an awesome actor, but no one is ever surprised when he turns into a total raging revenge murderer an hour into 28 Days Later, is all I’m saying.

Second one chosen would be Hans Matheson.

If you need more evidence than his face, keep reading.

Hans is a very good actor, though without a steady directorial hand his acting can tip into overacting.

On the other hand, most of the time it’s not his fault; there’s only so far you can rise above the material when everyone looks like this. (P.S. I see what you did here, Duncan Idaho!)

Mists of Avalon was the first time I saw him, and even though the whole miniseries was just a mess (Joan Allen, you put that period piece away RIGHT NOW), he was far from the worst thing in it (Samantha Mathis was! We’ll tackle this later), and he managed some good beats almost despite the script. His face when he discovers his parentage is great.

On the other hand, when you get your big break playing Mordred, fighting the creeper vibe is an uphill battle. Forever.

After that he got a bigger break in Les Miserables, playing Marius, who’s sort of intense under the best conditions, and was an absolute stalker when Matheson played him. It’s not his fault, honest! He was just born under a creepy star! He never blinks!

Lest you think I’m out to get him, let me point out what a sad percentage of his movies I own, and allow me to stress again how nice he probably is. He plays the fiddle!

I’m just saying, there’s something about him, even when he’s playing decent characters, like in Bathory:

…no comment.

My favorite film of his is Canone Inverso, a movie which I bought off eBay and had converted as soon as I was able to find it. (I was in college, and had not really discovered the internet yet. I’m still surprised I knew about eBay.)

In it, he plays a violin genius attending Violin Genius School, who has a love/hate relationship with another violin genius, Lee Williams (who, let’s face it, was really weird in The Forsyte Saga: To Let, and creepy as shit in the Wolves of Kromer, and probably also has a slot in the Creepers):

But even he thinks Hans’s thousand-yard stare is a little much. You’re in class, dude! Just daydream about sex like everyone else!

Anyway, after accidentally-unsettling turns in I am Dina (with the amazing Marie Bonnevie), Doctor Zhivago, and The Tudors, his agent got him a role in Sherlock Holmes, playing Lord Coward. Here’s how that went.

[Hans appears.]

Me, whispering to my mom: He’s evil.
Mom: How do you know?
Me: …he’s onscreen.

[Two minutes later, Lord Coward is revealed to be an intense creep.]

Mom: Oh, this is Hans Matheson!

I’m just saying.

Picture source: hansmatheson.org. H may be a little odd, but he’s easy on the eyes.

Nah, that would mean having feelings! My Christmas was uneventful. The vibe is always pajama-tastic and our gift-giving is minimal, since Christmas is mostly a chance to get together and watch Chanticleer and Band of Brothers and consume cookies in obscene quantities.

I watched an entire season of So You Think You Can Dance in a single night, which is really the way to go, because rooting for people for one evening is a lot less exhausting than doing it for eight weeks.(I am also beginning to think I am a jinx, because the dancer of my heart has never won, even though most of the time I understand who won and why. Hint: if you are a supertalented gay dancer, you will probably come in second. Have fun!)

Awesomely, I went to see Sherlock Holmes. Expect two articles on that sometime this week. Just so you all know, my mother is a bigger movie freak than I am (the film canister has not fallen far from the tree). She fell asleep during Sherlock Holmes. If I could, I’d make that my entire review; unfortunately, that only works if you know my mom. Damn you, frame of reference!

On the way home, a guy in a cord blazer and an Eddie Bauer suitcase cuts the bus line in front of me. He proceeds to ask me a series of questions like, “Will the porter take my bag?” clutching his copy of Self-Reliance fiercely to his chest. When he finally asks if he’s in the right group, and is told he’s actually supposed to be behind me, he declines to move with a smile and a patronizing, “Well, I’ve never taken a bus before. I’ll just stay here.”

He was corrected. [Okay, maybe this really is my version of a heartfelt holiday essay.]

Found on ONTD – there is a new Oscar category for Best Thing in the World, and this person is the ONLY NOMINEE:

“Cinema 2009: 1 Year, 342 Movies, 12 Months of Production, 7 Minutes.”

I don’t know if anyone knows this, but I love movies a lot? Anyway, this is basically what the inside of my head looks like, all the time, awake or asleep. (This also explains why I forget real-life stuff – you notice there is no frame in here that says YOU ARE OUT OF MILK, for example.)

Dear person who made this: you are a genius.

One of my favorite things in the world is watching historical documentaries (generally biographies) that have extras in the background, looking historical and Very Serious. They’re never allowed to talk, of course, but sometimes they get to “Peas and carrots” their way through something as historians explain things in the foreground. It’s all extras, all the time, and it’s awesome!

The best of these I’ve seen was “The Real Jane Austen,” which aired a while ago on PBS, and was amazing because it took the framework of a talking-heads biography with actors as the talking heads. It was narrated by Anna “I always play harridans for some reason” Chancellor, and starred a list of actors I can hardly believe managed to get in the same project just to make my life easier/worse: Gillian “Stuck in a Cookson” Kearney, Jack “Also stuck in a Cookson I haven’t recapped yet” Davenport, Lucy “Becoming Jane” Cohu, Oliver “I had two lines in Lorna Doone” Chris, and Beth “Yes, I’m Kate’s sister” Winslet.

(Oh, Awesome British Actor Camp, you always know just what to say!)

The one I’m watching at the moment is about the youth of Queen Victoria, with a narrator who seems to be reading her lines off cue cards she has never seen before, and the Queen Victoria extra’s job is to look up off-camera and shake her head “No” every time we cut to her, and it’s delightful. Also it’s about history, I guess.

(If I ever have a month to myself, I should start peoplewhohangaroundindocuemtnariesdatabase.com. Best month EVER.)