RETRO ACTIVE: Murder by Decree (1979)
by Nick Schager 
What's new is always old, and in this recurring column, I'll be taking a look at the classic genre movies that have influenced today's new releases. In honor of Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, this week it's Bob Clark's 1979 Holmes-vs.-the-Ripper thriller, Murder by Decree. Navigating the deserted misty streets of 1880s London from the point of view of its notorious villain, Jack the Ripper,
Bob Clark's camera delivers an immediate jolt of
Black Christmas-style malevolence to
Murder by Decree, the director's superlative Sherlock Holmes adventure. Armed with John Hopkins' smart script (based on Elwyn Jones and John Lloyd's book
The Ripper File), Clark situates his iconic sleuth in the midst of England's most infamous crime spree, pitting him against the Ripper and, in doing so, a social hierarchy as inflexible as it is entrenched. It's a tale that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never penned himself, and yet Clark's film is faithful to the spirit of the author's works, capturing the detective's imperious intellect and sly sense of humor while also, in a welcome twist, bestowing him with newfound empathy and a related political conscience. Embodied by the magnificent
Christopher Plummer with imposing stature, a sly twinkle in his eye, and?unexpectedly?a deeply felt compassion for those upon whom the Ripper preys, this Holmes is at once an heroic presence and one capable of surprise, a fact most powerfully felt during his inquisition of an asylum-imprisoned woman (
Genevi�ve Bujold's Annie), in which the hero's calmly rational fa�ade melts away to reveal profound sorrow in the face of heinous injustice.
Clark shrouds his material in fog and darkness that, when coupled with his lush set design (velvet and gas-lamp light abound), gives
Murder by Decree a distinct Hammer Horror feel that amplifies the action's menace and mystery. That mood is established from the outset via an introductory credit-sequence pan across the hazy London skyline, and continues even once the film moves inside to the opulent Royal Opera House, where Holmes and Dr. Watson (
James Mason) converse about the Duke of Clarence (Robin Marchall), future king of England, whose lack of punctuality holds up the performance's commencement. That Watson stands up for the prince after the upper-deck masses boo his tardiness indicates a conservative respect for tradition and rank on the good doctor's part, but it's a stance that slowly melts away once a group of Whitechapel shop-owners enlist the duo's help in discovering the man killing their district's prostitutes. Intrigued by the spate of slaughters, Holmes and Watson embark on their investigation, which leads them to locales of consistently evocative atmosphere, be it a pier where informants deliver news from concealed rowboats and men lurk in darkened alleyways, or the home of medium Robert Lees (a goofy
Donald Sutherland), where the crazy-wide-eyed psychic recounts his visions regarding the Ripper.
As they delve deeper into the case, Holmes and Watson discover an expansive plot involving the Freemasons and those in the highest corridors of power, who appear to be involved with the Ripper murders as a means of covering up an incident that has implications for the throne. This conspiracy compels Holmes to seek out a streetwalker named Mary Kelly (
Susan Clark) and, shortly thereafter, Annie, whom he finds in a dingy mental-ward basement, her eyes blank and her body rocking back and forth in a traumatized trance. His subsequent conversation with her is
Murder by Decree's melodramatic high point, building to a crescendo as the sleuth elicits buried truths from the inmate's disturbed mind, peaking in a teary Holmes close-up that reconfigures his entire motivation. Driven now by personal as much as professional outrage, Holmes' quest becomes one about righting individual and class-warfare wrongs. Yet despite this deft and affecting shift, Clark never loses sight of the sheer horror of his story, which itself reaches an apex during Holmes' race to save Mary from the Ripper, leading to an encounter with the madman that features mutilations spied through filthy windows, hellish flames and embers, and eyes of deep, dark amorality.
Clark repeatedly frames his imagery through tree branches, wrought-iron fence bars, and ominous archways to create visual claustrophobia, and his camerawork is finely attuned to his characters' movements?a crane shot that first follows Holmes out of a church, then turns to find the fleeing figure he's pursuing, and then alters its focus yet again to find the Ripper's carriage is one of particularly nimble aesthetic beauty. Such artistry is present throughout
Murder by Decree, up to and including its courtroom-style finale, in which Holmes?having already confronted
David Hemmings' secretly radical Scotland Yard inspector?damns the powers-that-be (including
Sir John Gielgud) for their detestable culpability in the Ripper's killings. Perhaps most skillful of all, however, is Mason's turn as Dr. Watson, whose deference to Holmes' unparalleled deductive reasoning skills is matched by his own significant participation in the case. If not on Holmes' plane, his Watson is nonetheless an invaluable contributor to the ongoing investigation, even as he's cast as something of a closet pervert, first via Holmes' remarks about his fondness for female company, and later in an encounter with a whore that finds the doctor uncomfortably (but not
too uncomfortably) having his finger stuck between the woman's teeth, and his inner thigh aggressively, and hilariously, caressed.
Posted by ahillis at December 16, 2011 2:48 PM
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