Basil The Great Mouse Retrospective

 (Basil The Great Mouse Detective Review By Neamo)

There are times when, in feeling lethargic and generally infirm, a man or woman craves something beyond the usual comforts of their daily drudge. I myself am one such man. Wallowing in ailments that set a deep craving within me for bed linen and comfort, I returned once more to Disney and cartoons of my childhood. Please take note, as is usually the case whenever I fall ill, that while the review's schedule might be effected, I shall do my best to maintain standards. I'm a people person.

Set in Victorian London, the owner of a local toy shop, Mr Flaversham is abducted by a villainous and faintly racially suspect bat by the name of Fidget, leaving his young daughter Olivia alone and destitute in his wake. Distraught, she seeks out the aid of Basil of baker street with the well meaning but portly Dawson guiding her. Convincing the detective to take up the case after a cold lead on his arch nemesis, the nefarious Ratigan, Basil and crew secure the services of their trained beagle Toby and ride the lovable steed onward as the game is afoot. Tracking Fidget to a human toy store, they find quickly that gears have been stripped and soldiers disrobed, but in their efforts to track the peg legged thief, lose track of Olivia who is kidnapped in turn. Turning to Basil's scientific prowess, they discern that the likely location of schemes is in fact a waterfront pub, and disguise in tow make their way inside in an attempt to infiltrate. Things of course don't exactly go to plan as the bumbling Dawson, becoming drugged, starts a bar fight that leads to a hasty escape. Pursuing Fidget into a sewer pipe, it becomes clear they have been trapped, and Basil's spirit is broken as Ratigan lauds it over them both before securing them to a deviously fashioned device in a move that is both James Bond villain and mouse trap. Realizing the queen is in peril and that they too are soon to be extinguished by a heinous rube goldberg machine of death, Basil foils the machine, saves the queen and has one of the most memorable final showdowns of any cartoon, all atop the tower of Big Ben. All in a days work for our Homes inspired hero.

So, where to begin? The plot of this crime caper might seem a little tired at first glance with the child seeking help from the genius detective to find her missing pater, but in fact it acts more as a love letter to classic Conan Doyle, with many borrowed tropes translated directly within. Though names are changed and much is alluded to, what we are looking at is a watered down Sherlock for children, and that can't be a bad thing. Likewise the pragmatic and magnanimous villain Ratigan seems a far departure from the haphazard villains of Disney culture. Sophisticated and debonair, he portrays himself as an idol of vanity itself, forcing his henchmen to quite literally sing his praises, lauding it over the ailing detective whilst also dispatching of any who would bring into question his standing by calling him a rat. He is a rat of course, but that isn't important. Did you hear a bell? In any case, this megalomaniac reflects well the self centric qualities of Moriarty, in a more lovable package as must be the case, and it certainly helps the film to flow. I could put it down to the voice acting, which was simply superb with his voice provided by Vincent Price, but I'm almost certain that it was too about clever writing. That air of class. That's what I think this film has that allows it to be distinct from other Disney films. We aren't talking of magic and wonders, nor are we talking of emaciated fashionistas and their love of all things gaudy, this is a film about political conquest and keen minds. It shouldn't by rights be as entertaining as it is, but it manages beautifully.

The animation is beautiful, but that's to be expected of a Disney production. I have since learned that it was in fact the saving grace of the company in a time when the Black Cauldron, a then under appreciated classic, had sank the collective budget of the animation department. In this sense, it saved the company and heralded the age of the Disney Renaissance, so it certainly has that going for it. I won't say it's the most beautiful animation I've ever seen, as I've certainly enjoyed the style of other films more so than this, but it has it's own unique charm in that classically undefinable but inherent Disney style. The musical scores weren't the strongest. With most either acting as background or featuring none of the principle cast the music is understated and at times entirely unfocused. The pub scene with Watson though requiring dancers felt over played as the song itself and the singer had no relevance to the film itself, and while it seemed poignant at the time and much like it would build, ultimately it served as little more than a red herring. The dancers could easily have been dancing to the sound of the piano alone, it looked much like an executive had asked for there to be more music for the sake of the audience rather than the film's cohesion.

What gripes do I have to pick with a childhood favorite? It's certainly a struggle, but I'll do my best. While the plot itself seems clever, at times much like the Holmes that had inspired it, the non specific elements of chemistry that lead to the conclusion often feels rushed with little explanation. We hear of soot dust connecting to lamps, of gummed paper and cheap alcohol, and indeed of the paper's origin and dousing in salt water. We hear of this, and as an adult it might be possible to put it together logically or follow, but not as a child. I don't speak for all children when I say this, so pay heed and take note, but for the most part children are stupid. No child is going to follow the path of the deductions in the same way no child would, or should, understand the comparison of bullet rifling that caused Basil anguish earlier in the film. While I praise the idea of a watered down Holmes for children, I feel the film asks for a lot in terms of keeping interest, and it begs the question, who was their real target audience? I was satiated as a child with the humor and cute aesthetic, so while I can now laud the tributes between film and book, they seem a little hollow coming from retrospect. It seems as if at times it attempted more to be clever than it did to appeal to it's audience, and while that isn't specifically a bad thing, it doesn't seem like a clever marketing move.

Overall, I love the film. It has something for everyone, and while children may not understand all it has to offer, it remains special for the reasons listed above.

No Shit Sherlock

(Sherlock Critique By Neamo) 

Sherlock has been very difficult to review or critique, and it has taken the better part of a day and some in depth conversations for me to pinpoint why. While I will be the first to praise the virtues of the show and it's production, certain aspects have left me with an inner turmoil that has bled into writers block, and it may show in this summation of thoughts and feelings. I had not expected such difficulty concerning it, especially considering I have in the past professed adoration, but as is often the case, deeper reflection leads to unanswerable questions and rebuttals, and it is this untangled mass of emotional yarn that I shall attempt to pluck apart below. I am using bullet points, partly to help separate my musing rants from the general commotion of cumulative thought, and stop me veering too steeply into tangents otherwise better left unexplored.

•  Acting : The acting of Sherlock is impeccable. With the ever likable but erstwhile sincere Martin Freeman providing a genuinely warm and distinct voice in Watson, it balances well to the sardonically misanthropic edge provided in Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock. I am told, though I haven't indulged myself, that the books are written in much the same manner, with Watson providing the grounding force to Holmes and his eccentricities, and while that would stunt the growth of ordinary characters, what we are rapidly introduced to is the notion that neither character is ordinary. There is an on screen chemistry between the two that I'm assured was written to give a deeper affection to their relationship, and while at times it can verge on the homoerotic, their bromance and the connection within gives the piece deeper meaning. Mark Gatiss too portrays a fine Mycroft, with the subtle nuances of Cumberbatch's performance reflected in his own though with far more reservation, and the rest of the ensemble cast perform well as aides to the central cast, Rupert Graves providing a likable and human Lestrade and Louise Brealey a muted but perfect performance as the queen of the friendzone. I would be remiss however if I did not take a moment to appreciate the staggering performance of Andrew Scott as James Moriarty. Bringing a wild eccentricity to it that had little been expected by critic and viewer alike, his on screen moments are as dauntingly electric as they are unnervingly sinister, stealing the scenes entirely from beneath the nose of the lead, a feat not easily accomplished.

 

•  Writing : The writing of Sherlock isn't something I can shower it with universal acclaim for however. In a point that will ultimately tie in fully with one of my gripes, Sherlock is at it's best sporadic in approach to the quality, as I can easily discern season for season the weaker episodes, episodes that whilst serving and appeasing fans add nothing to the overall canon it attempts to build, and otherwise serve as gentle but meaningless filler. The episode for instance entitled 'The Blind Banker' clearly remained as an attempt to appease, with notes lifted from a Doyle story. Now, I understand fully that when playing with a well established franchise and attempting to bring it into the modern certain structures must be adhered to, but in many places things simply defy translation, and the faintly racist portrayal of the Asian syndicate, followed by the loose but otherwise camped plot and danger within speak volumes. Likewise 'The Hounds of the Baskerville' episode seemed forced, it's explanation and science sitting uneasily as it raised more questions in conclusion than it posed, and while I understand these are meant to build the idea of Holmes and his case repertoire, the open and shut mention of it left little but hollow feelings in it's wake. I'm not saying each episode should continue a thematic plot, or be linked to one central figure as life doesn't work that way, Moriarty couldn't have played a hand in 'Baskerville' anymore than he could have in the Jack the Ripper murders. What I am saying is if an episode begins and ends with no lasting change or effects, we are left in the territory of poor television. That isn't to say all of the writing is poor, the 'The Reichenbach Fall' is an example of both fantastic portrayal and excellent execution, leaving fans both hungry for more and puzzled, and while Season 3 by and large remains disappointing as a following act, this episode and the lead to it over the coarse of two seasons show fantastic skill that is difficult to argue in the face of. A little more consistency would be desirable.

•  General Positives : You can see a pattern here, that I am discussing things I can heap joy upon in this review's forefront in order to save my criticism and bile for the latter, and this is represents the last vestige of compliments. The theme tune and musical score are both complementary and elegant, and certainly help to ease the passage of each episode. I also on another note enjoyed the internal mapping and graphing technique used to show us the unique but tangible analytical thoughts of our lead mastermind, as they skillfully both allow us an inner look but at the same time distance us with the dazzling array of genius, both making him relatable and alienating him at once. It's a skill that frankly leaves me a little jealous in my awe, but remains none the less an impressive piece of direction.

• Gripes :  And here we enter the tangled mass of thoughts otherwise known as my negative thoughts. I spent much time questioning what I didn't like, and why this couldn't be an easy review, and there are several things I could mention to note certainly. I don't, for instance, like the fact that Sherlock has been shown to have total social ineptitude, but that he seems to have slept with most of the men that drift lazily past as Molly's love interests. It seems strange that a man who refuses to go out gets around so much, to be frank and rather blunt about it. Likewise I don't like the concessions made in writing for the fan base, Sherlock's monologue about his revival and indeed the 3rd season in it's entirety seeming more like a series of personally indulgent messages to it's fans than legitimate plot. I could talk of that, and more I'm sure, but my true gripe I feel lays with the fans, and with Steven Moffat. To those who don't know, I am not a fan of Moffat's writing. I've seen it in Dr Who and the influence brought there, and I remain unappreciative and resentful to his abuse of it's canon and auto fellating tropes. While that on the face has no tie to Sherlock, Moffat is credited as co-creator and one of the three writers, and I'm sure has brought something positive to the table, but what he has also brought is a legion of rabid fans, and it is the fans of Sherlock that I take offense to. Comprised of Cumberbitches, a collective of Benedict fetishists, New Whovians, an abhorrent growth of mock sci-fi fans who take themselves too seriously by far, and traditionalist Conan Doyle puritans, the fan base of Sherlock is both frightening and abhorrent. Loud, unintelligible at the best of times and unintelligent at the worst, they represent the worst aspects of a community and show little of it's virtues, and frankly make me like the finished product less by proxy.

 
So, what else can I say of the show? Not a lot if I'm honest. It's good, certainly worth watching and its performances are for the most part inspired, but for gods sake, stay away from the fan base.