The way we talk about the world's great cities and their history probably merits some examination. New York City in the 1970s was a notorious warren of crime and urban blight; similarly, late Victorian London was a fog-choked nightmare. Even when Jack the Ripper wasn't stalking the streets, it was dangerous to walk around at night. No wonder there were so many gothic novels set in the London of the time; and even today, the era continues to capture the imagination. The Limehouse Golem, Juan Carlos Medina's murder mystery period piece, isn’t about Jack, being set a full eight years prior to his reign of
terror, but it’s definitely about London.
1880s Limehouse is just as poor as Jack's hunting grounds of Whitechapel, but it’s also home to a thriving theater community, including the brilliant music hall performer Dan Leno. Leno is just one of many real-life historical figures in this movie; also starring are Karl Marx (!) and George Gissing, all of whom were living in Limehouse in the early 1880s. All three are suspects in a series of brutal, seemingly random murders that shake the city. Much of the film revolves around Lizzie Cree, an actress who studied under Leno, now accused of poisoning her failed playwright husband. Opposite her is Inspector Kildare, long passed over for promotion due to salacious rumors about him in his early career. Together they unravel the plot. What follows is this winding trail as Kildare and his bluecoat assistant put the pieces together of who the Limehouse Golem is and how he might be related to Lizzie’s case. He becomes obsessed with the idea that Lizzie’s awful, emotionally abusive husband is the culprit. This is a film full of golden performances; Bill Nighy is a dogged Kildare, Douglas Booth is flamboyant, funny and warm as Dan Leno, Olivia Cooke is a sympathetic, put-upon Lizzie, and discount Tom Hardy, aka Sam Reid, gives John Cree an air of quiet, egotistical menace.
A
lot of the film is set in and around the music hall culture of the
1880s. Music halls were what passed for entertainment in Victorian
London, providing shows that were equal parts stand-up comedy and
vaudeville with an air of burlesque, ever-popular but never quite seen
as “high class.” This is a movie that’s not just a murder mystery, but a
rumination on the fame monster, and what it does to people who want to
make a name for themselves, and on how the living hell that is Victorian
London can slowly squeeze someone to nothingness. The historical
figures really drive this home; while Marx and Gissom’s appearances are
only cameos, they reflect the realities of life in Limehouse, and
Victorian London in general, in their own way. It’s also a celebration
of theatre, as Lizzie and Dan and others each get a chance to shine on
stage, leaving the audience — both real and on-screen — wanting more. In
fact, strip away the murder mystery and you’d have a pretty decent film
about the London music halls.
As
lurid as this movie can be — and Kildare’s mental pictures of the
suspects he examines committing murder are as gory as you’d expect from
an obvious Jack analogue — it’s also brilliantly shot and staged, and
plenty of surprises and twists await. For a film that’s obviously trying
desperately to wring something new and original out of one of the
grimmest periods of human history, as well transplanting modern crime
drama tropes into another century, it still succeeds on its own merits.
If you like Victorian horror, watch this film.
-june❤
No comments:
Post a Comment