Way Too Late at the Movies: Without A Clue

The premise is clever: What if Dr. Watson is the brains, and Sherlock Holmes is only there as a handsome, well-spoken front?

Thus we get 1988's Without A Clue, with a game Michael Caine and Sherlock and Ben Kingsley as Dr. Watson. I watched it yesterday and liked it, though it's not one I need to see again.

The plot is this: Watson has grown sick of having to hide in Holmes' limelight, particularly as the hack actor he found to play him is really getting on his nerves. He confesses the fact to the publisher of the Strand magazine, which has been printing the stories and is the mainstay of Watson's income -- and things fall apart. No Sherlock, no stories and no money.

So Sherlock comes back for one more case, involving his foe Moriarty (whose real name, anagrammed, is Arty Morty, Sherlock haplessly figures out as he tries to plumb the depths of the case when Watson ends up missing, presumed dead).

This, for me, is where the story falls apart. Moriarty was no intellectual slouch. He'd have at least suspected that Holmes was not the brains of the operations, and more than likely would have figured it out and denounced him. Yet he behaves as if he's ignorant of the ruse. Maybe the ordinary criminal might have been, but Moriarty? Not likely.

Anyway, the film is good for a few laughs and Caine is as game as always to dive into the part. There's not a slouch actor in the bunch.