Talking to yourself can be of great benefit to your mental health and powers of self-expression. Of course if you do it you may find yourself in a far worse circumstance so instead we write. We write to ourselves in the guise of writing for others and hope it's incidentally entertaining. Nicholas Meyer could write, and maybe can still write, and he wrote the novel that they adapted for this movie. Somehow this man managed to write 'The Seven Per-Cent Solution' and the movies 'Time After Time', 'Star Trek II' and 'Star Trek VI'. That's right, he wrote - and directed - the two best Star Trek movies ever, and the only non-canonical Sherlock Holmes book I have ever really liked. I like this book so much that I have given away three copies as gifts. And it's not even a great novel, but instead a lovely novel. Great novels are only rarely lovely novels and I have yet to come across one except for perhaps 'A Tale Of Two Cities'.
Anyway, what we have in 'The Seven Percent Solution' as a novel is a tremendous conceit that serves to clear up, if we choose to permit it, some of the inconsistencies surrounding the death of Sherlock Holmes in 'The Final Problem' and his return in 'The Empty House'. When I say 'clear up' I actually mean 'throw away entirely and replace'. This is actually rather good as 'The Empty House' (TEH) is rather a weak resurrection for our hero in comparison to the stonkingly wonderful tale that is 'The Final Problem' (TFP). I'm one of those people who would quite happily ignore all the stories after TFP simply because they're not so good. Doyle nailed it in the first two sets of stories and then came back because people demanded it rather than wanting to, and it does show.
This review will have a tendency to meander. The broadness of Sherlock Holmes and the strength of Meyer at the time really leaves far too much scope which is why this is a book and movie review rather than specifically one or the other. The novel is an elegant piece of Holmesian fluff which draws you on all the way until the end, mixing references galore with sticky intrigue until the climactic train top duel, and then shocking personal revelation. It is after all, the book which proclaims 'Sherlock Holmes and Sigmund Freud, together again for the first time' loudly in my mind. The central conceit is that Holmes loses his grip and succumbs to cocaine addiction, whereupon discovering that addiction Watson endeavours to get Holmes to Vienna to meet the fledgling psychotherapist Freud for a cure. The novel splits into two parts hinging on the central fulcrum that is the introduction of Freud. That journey to Vienna is very much Watson's story as he conspires with Holmes's brother to get the unhinged sleuth to the continent, and the second part belongs much more to Freud and Holmes, the balance shifting to the latter as the adventure becomes more apparent. It's a well balanced book, and ultimately does a lot more for explaining the great detective's shift in characterisation in the later stories once he's brought back to life. The only thing I find problematic is the personal revelations on Holmes' early family life as obtained under hypnosis by Freud at the very end. Some things are better left unknown and add mystery, although the idea that Moriarty is only a villain under cocaine delusion and was otherwise his maths tutor is rather ingenious.
As is so often the case, a film adaptation's problems are in the lack of physical or emotional colour on screen as opposed to in the imagination, and the presence of the screen character as opposed to that of the page. Every piece of casting in this movie is slightly askew, and yet it works oddly well, once we get past the one irredeemably awful moment which tends to spoil the whole movie for the unprepared. In the space of the first few words spoken in narration it all falls apart before a single person is seen in motion. What are those words? They are the opening remarks of Dr John Watson in narration, as played by Robert Duvall. Robert Duvall's fake British accent is never as bad again in the remaining movie and yet this horrific debacle was allowed to stand unreplaced, as a hilarious talisman dispelling potential viewers interest. Alas, poor Robert Duvall, who has had many excellent performances, stinks it up royally in the space of a few seconds. Nicol Williamson is so weirdly hyper as Holmes in cocaine delusions that you don't warm to him even slightly until well past the halfway point of the movie, but something does click and you accept him as someone who's real and not a caricature. Alan Arkin completes the casting triangle as Sigmund Freud and is solidly reliable, if not very charismatic, as only Alan Arkin can be depended on to be. This movie is close to being very good and settles on being simply solid with good touches. The adaptation is good, even though the more intricate intrigue of the book is left and some odd and more action-filled scenes added, most notably the white horses segment, and a hunt that ends in a house of ill repute. The ending where Holmes goes on holiday and coincidentally ends up with the woman he rescued is sweet in a totally bizarre and idiosyncratic way. The overall impression I get is that this movie has been unfairly unappreciated, which I suspect is related to the Duvall problem, as it is in no way a truly bad movie. In fact, at the very worst it could be said to mediocre, which it isn't really. It is merely a Sherlock Holmes film, and as such is a problematic thing to make. And there is one bad 70's psychedelic dream sequence. Oh, they were crazy back then surely.
To close, 'The Seven Percent Solution' is a lovely novel with a strong narrative drive and central conceit, and the movie is a fun romp with some odd casting and a horrific opening narration that almost sinks the whole show. If you like Sherlock Holmes even just a little, read the book, and if a lot then watch the film too.
Back, you blarney hounds, back!
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