Mr. Holmes and A Slight Change of the Plot: A Review

Be forewarned, this post includes reviews of A Slight Trick of the Mind and Mr. Holmes. Potential spoilers ahead!! For those of you not wanting to read further, know that I loved both the book and the film. Everyone else...

A few months ago, I read Mitch Cullin's novel, A Slight Trick of the Mind. I had begun research for a novel I wanted to write exploring the question of why Sherlock Holmes retired. Knowing Mr. Cullin's book also explored that question, I wanted to make certain I did not cover territory already plowed by him. Rest assured, his book was nothing like my as yet unfinished story. My book was a traditional Holmes story, set in 1902. Mr. Cullin's was a Sherlock Holmes book like none I had ever seen. The protagonist of his book was a feeble, elderly Holmes, trying to grapple with a mystery which occurred in 1902, though the novel takes place in 1947. The novel also deals with events which occur in 1947 at Holmes' residence in Sussex as well as the recent past when Holmes was in Japan tracking down the prickly ash plant, which is supposed to help fight off memory loss. The book jumps around a lot between the three stories, capturing the disorientation of the elder Holmes as he tries to write down his own version of the last mystery he solved. It is the feeling of disorientation, the feeling of loss, the feeling of inexplicable sadness, and, in the end, the feeling of hope, and a celebration of the human condition which is what makes A Slight Trick of the Mind quite possibly one of the finest books ever written about aging, grief, death, and hope. It is feeling those emotions, not just being shown them, which is surprisingly missing from the wonderful film, Mr. Holmes.

Now, how can I say those feelings are missing and still call the film, Mr. Holmes, a wonderful film? Because, quite frankly, this is not A Slight Trick of the Mind, the movie. Rather, it is Mr. Holmes, a film, which is largely based on A Slight Trick of the Mind, and has many of the same scenes from the novel, yet feels like a very different story. This is a happier story. A story that does have its somber moments, but, unlike the novel, it will not make you shed a single tear.

Many reviews have already written about the changes from the book to the film. I've seen numbers from half of the book was changed, to 90% of the book was changed. I'm not sure about percentages, but if I was to take a guess, I'd probably agree that half of the film is new material. Some of the changes make sense. This is a movie. You have to make changes, and I for one, do not want to see a movie that is scene for scene a remake of a book. What is the point of seeing the film version, then?

The changes in Mr. Holmes range from the downright peculiar (changing the last names of two important characters from Keller to Kelmot) to pace setting (cutting back on the portions of the book in Japan) to downright scandalous. I won't give spoilers away here, but if you haven't read the book you may not understand what I'm about to write. One change, the BIG one, surprisingly, I was okay with. I felt that portion of the book was resolved in a Hollywood fashion, but the audience still got the jist of the lessons and themes from that portion of the story. The change I was not okay with had to do with grief. There is a portion of the novel where Holmes builds a stone circle and meditates within the circle to help him deal with grief. I found this portion of the novel to be life changing. It gave me a whole new perspective on coping with loss, and by the time I finished this novel, I felt like a new man. My outlook was different. This entire scene is absent from the film, and the replacement scene to sort of show you Holmes coping with loss, had absolutely no weight.

And yet, I loved the film Mr. Holmes. Sir Ian McKellan gives a performance worthy of an Academy Award portraying Sherlock Holmes. The new material (a good portion of the film) adds a deep friendship between Holmes and the young Roger, the son of the widow, Mrs. Munro, Holmes' housekeeper. This friendship builds on the theme of fatherhood which is prevalent in the novel. Another fun addition to the film is the movie within the movie when Sherlock Holmes goes to the cinema to see a movie entitled, The Lady in Grey. The film is a fictional version of the story which Holmes is trying to write and remember. What makes this fun, is it shows the Holmes we have all come to accept, the deerstalker wearing, pipe smoking resident of 221B baker Street, and we see the real Holmes grumbling at this portrayal. To add to the fun, the actor in this fake film is Nicholas Rowe, who played Holmes in the movie Young Sherlock Holmes.

The writing of the film is clever, sometimes a bit too clever, and the transitions between the three storylines are seamless and not the least bit confusing. Which is probably good for the cinema, but I missed the confusion and befuddlement of the novel. To make up for this loss, the movie shows us Holmes looking befuddles, making the audience aware of his condition, even if we do not experience his condition. Still, the plot moves along at a quick pace, the characters come to life on the screen, and, again, the acting is top notch. While the film wants to beat you over the head with its themes (they could have had a subtitle of HOPE across the screen for most of the film), I never felt it got in the way of the story.

I apologize if this sort of review has ended up being a bit on the rambling side, though I doubt Mr. Holmes would mind. Those of you still with me, I highly recommend both A Slight Trick of the Mind and Mr Holmes. Mr. Holmes is a lighthearted film dealing with heavy issues. I believe fans of Sherlock Holmes, especially his current incarnations, will find a film that, while different from the current Holmes depictions, is enjoyable, and, at times, remarkable. However, I believe that reading A Slight Trick of the Mind will give you a whole new perspective on aging, and while it is not as positive as the film, I think, in more ways, it will fill you with the hope that the film constantly informs you about, but never makes you feel.