Your movie review
JAMES Burgess is a 27-year-old performance, drama and theatre graduate. The former Fallibroome High School pupil has attended the BAFTA Film Awards in London every year since 2009, meeting stars including Dame Helen Mirren, Christian Bale, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Emma Thompson. James lives on St Ives Close in Macclesfield. You can visit his website at jabfilmreviews. blogspot.com. The Limehouse Golem Rating: rary edge by prolifically versatile screenwriter Jane Goldman (Stardust, X-Men: First Class and the fantastically inventive Kingsman and its forthcoming sequel).
The opening shot is extremely bold and striking: The ghost-white face of famed compere Dan Lino (a terrific Douglas Booth) directly and simultaneously addressing both the unsuspectingly captivated audience inside the theatre – and us, the equally enthralled, almost complicit audience, safe within the confines of the cinema – declaring: ‘Let us begin, my friends, at the end… Whose is the name of fear on every Londoner’s lips?’… Cue the gloriously lacerating string crescendo, in a score every bit as doom-laden and tightlywound as the never-gratuitous violence.
That name is the infamous Limehouse Golem: a relentless, blade-wielding, seemingly arbitrary multiplemurderer, pre-dating Jack The Ripper.
Drafted in to investigate is the straight-laced Inspector Kildare (a role originally planned for the absolutely seminal, much-missed Alan Rickman) played brilliantly by Bill Nighy. A more serious role for him, Nighy still brings that trademark twinkle, charm and expert timing. (Similarly, with his unmistakable tones and slow, sinister delivery, I’m certain Rickman would’ve been perfect).
Booth steals the show as a charismatic and singing Lino, the everexcellent Daniel Mays is soulful as the policeman and Olivia Cooke has real integrity as Elizabeth.
It has echoes of the Ripper chronicle From Hell, or Sleepy Hollow (both starring Johnny Depp), Agatha Christie, and Nolan’s The Prestige.
The structure and cinematography perfectly capture the mood, playing cleverly with flashback, perspective and identity – exploring notions of performance, theatricality and deception. ‘We all wear pantomime masks – do we not’.
The glow, vibrancy and excessive extravagance of the music-hall scene is juxtaposed with the icy chill of murder outside. The final twist is shocking and ingenious – my jaw dropped to the floor!