‘Luther: The Fallen Sun’: Crimes against subtlety
“Luther: The Fallen Sun” picks up just where things left off in “Luther,” the neonoir Netflix detective series on which it’s based: with the arrest of the brilliant but flawed title character, police detective John Luther (Idris Elba). As explained by the new story at the start of this garden-variety serial killer thriller, Luther’s arrest for such unethical behavior as witness intimidation and breaking and entering has been years in the making, engineered by a maniacal Professor Moriarty-like villain (Andy Serkis) who keeps a supply of old corpses on ice for when he might need one as a prop. This is no spoiler; the bad guy’s identity is revealed in the film’s first few minutes, and not by Luther (although he does suss out a partial motive before anyone else can, as is his wont).
We see Serkis, sporting an elaborate pompadour and the practically lip-smacking glee of a madman, watching from the crowd in the aftermath of a staged crime scene his character has created. From that moment on, the film becomes a fairly predictable game of cat and mouse, with Luther’s cat — implausibly sprung from prison in short order — in hot pursuit of the mouse, whom Serkis portrays as if he were racing through the film on a Lime scooter with the brake line cut, and wearing a fluorescent orange vest.
This ostentatious character, whom Luther correctly surmises as craving an audience, is not destined to go down in the annals of criminal subtlety. That is, perhaps, as it should be in a story whose themes have to do with the ubiquity of villainy in the darkest corners of the internet, as well as the pernicious access to web platforms for those seeking eyeballs — whether in search of fame or infamy. Is there any real difference nowadays?
There’s no big mystery here, except as pertains to the question of whether Luther will apprehend his quarry before he himself is apprehended, either by a returning character — Luther’s friend, sometime nemesis and former boss, Martin Schenk (Dermot Crowley) — or by a new one: Detective Odette Raine (Cynthia Erivo). In fact, Luther and Schenk engage in a small wager to that effect, adding nothing to the stakes of the over-the-top but only moderately engaging film, which at one point includes a scene, set in London’s Piccadilly Circus, in which several extras, playing victims of the villain’s blackmail, appear to plunge to their deaths simultaneously.
It’s quite the visual set piece in a story that also travels to a remote, photogenically snowbound mansion in Norway for its climax, and also features a scene in which multiple human victims of the bad guy, hanging from nooses, are incinerated in front of their loved ones.
Serkis aside, “Luther” is notable, in a good way, for its performances. Elba, ever watchable, makes for a nicely conflicted antihero, torn between toeing the line and using unconventional methods — such as threatening to tattoo the eyeball of a reluctant witness — to extract information. Crowley’s rumpled Schenk, a decent cop who knows and likes Luther well enough to turn an occasional blind eye to his former subordinate’s misdeeds, makes a welcome return, with Erivo — one of the most exciting actresses of her generation — also fun to watch.
By that measure, “Luther” is not without its pleasures, assuming you have the stomach for the kind of theatrical crimes that exist only in filmdom. Serkis may be guilty of chewing the scenery to a baby-food-like pulp, but rest assured: In this formulaic but fun return to form for Elba’s Luther, all miscreants will ultimately face punishment — whether for crimes against humanity or acting.