The script of ‘Enola Holmes’ is a bit clueless
There’s a certain kind of empty British movie, and “Enola Holmes” is it.
On the surface it’s smart and cynical, but at its depths, it’s sentimental. It has a cheeky young heroine who talks directly to the audience and a lush, overly earnest score. It is distinctly English, with its atmosphere of Victorian London and its idea of England as a land of enchantment. It’s realistic in details and yet has an air of the fantastic. And in the end, like a lot of such movies, it’s too intelligent to be truly horrible and too unfelt and uninspired to be any good.
Based on the novel by Nancy Springer, “Enola Holmes,” streaming now on Netflix, tells the story of Sherlock Holmes’ younger sister, played by Millie Bobby Brown (“Stranger Things”) with a winning, if unrelenting, spunkiness. At 16, she has reached an age where her independence of spirit is beginning to be seen as an embarrassment.
Raised by her mother (Helena Bonham Carter) to believe she can do anything, Enola suddenly finds herself at the mercy of her rigid elder brother Mycroft (Sam Claflin) when her mother inexplicably disappears. Mycroft decides that Enola needs lessons in conformity, whereupon she leaves home, disguised as a boy.
“Enola Holmes” suffers from a divided focus and a lack of urgency in its
heroine’s objectives. Enola is on a mission to find her mother, but it doesn’t much matter if she finds her today or tomorrow. On the train to London, she meets a young lord (Louis Partridge), and when the two of them separate, she starts looking for
him. Now she’s looking for two people, and it doesn’t matter if she finds either. Meanwhile, think: What
should be the fun of a movie called “Enola Holmes?” Well, the fun should naturally derive from our knowledge and appreciation of Sherlock Holmes, right?
It would be enjoyable, for example, if Enola were as brilliant as Sherlock, and if the movie provided opportunities for her to demonstrate that brilliance. But here her deductions are halfhearted and mostly have to do with unscrambling anagrams. The only reason we know Enola is gifted is because the movie keeps insisting on it.
And what if it showed a different side of Sherlock? That could have been something. Instead they find a movie star, Henry Cavill (“Man of Steel”), to play Sherlock and then give him nothing to work with. He sits on the sidelines, occasionally raising an eyebrow just to let us know he’s not dead. Mycroft is the much better role.
This script could have been fixed so easily. Already the movie has a feminist bent — Mom is off fighting for women’s rights, Enola is too grand a spirit to be contained, etc. — so let’s go for it. First, eliminate Mycroft from the story altogether. Instead, make Sherlock the repressive guardian Enola is rebelling against.
Also, eliminate the tone of fake enchantment and can the halfbaked “Harry Potter” wonder. Be honest enough to tell the story you’re telling: Victorian London is rough. Mom is a revolutionary and wants to blow up things. There’s a conspiracy to kill the young lord, and Enola, being female, can barely do anything.
Instead, a bright young actress, a moviestar actor and a potentially interesting concept get smothered in 128 minutes of colorful, empty nonsense.