David Arquette’s Sherlock Holmes is a jolly, urbane chap, reminiscent of Patrick Macnee’s John Steed of The Avengers.
David Arquette, star of the touring production of Sherlock Holmes at Toronto's Ed Mirvish Theatre, is no Benedict Cumberbatch. Then again, he's no Perez Hilton, either.
Arquette can't hold a candle, charisma-wise, to Cumberbatch's sexy, contemporary take on the sleuth in the BBC/PBS Sherlock TV series. But after producer Starvox Entertainment's last wretched venture into stunt casting, this past summer's Full House: The Musical! starring the talent-bereft Hilton, it's a relief to see that Arquette at least knows how to act. And with a hawk-nosed profile and a plummy English accent, the goofy deputy sheriff from the Scream franchise even makes for a credible Holmes.
Although, when he first made his entrance, I mistook him for a different Holmes – namely Mycroft, Sherlock's lethargic older brother. Arquette's middle-aged detective isn't of the quicksilver Cumberbatch variety, let alone Robert Downey Jr.'s action-hero version. He's more of a jolly, urbane chap, the sort who leaves most of the physical stuff to his younger sidekick. If anything, he recalls another British crime fighter, Patrick Macnee's John Steed of TV's The Avengers – only a Steed gone slightly to seed.
It's apt, considering that Greg Kramer's play aims for the same witty, lighthearted tone as that classic series. Except for the times when it's trying to be either dead serious or completely silly.
The unevenness extends to Andrew Shaver's production, which is based on the one he directed for Montreal's Segal Centre in 2013, starring Jay Baruchel. That original version was praised for its inventive staging and design, and there are times when you can see why. But translated from the 306-seat Segal Theatre to the 2,300-seat Ed Mirvish, the show struggles to fill a vast stage and impress us with tricks that would be far more effective on a smaller scale.
It's also in dire need of a trim. Kramer, a British-born, Montreal-based writer and actor, died suddenly just before the Segal production went into rehearsal, leaving a clever but verbose script that's far too long for a romp. At close to 2 hours 30 minutes, with intermission, it feels more like a plod.
Kramer both mimics and borrows freely from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's tales. Holmes and Dr. Watson (James Maslow) have no sooner met – à la A Study in Scarlet – than they're off solving the mystery of a missing lord, an anti-opium campaigner whose American wife, Lady Irene St. John (Renee Olstead), suspects foul play. Sure enough, Holmes's arch-enemy Prof. Moriarty (Kyle Gatehouse) and partner-in-crime Colonel Moran (Graham Cuthbertson) are behind it. And just as surely, Inspector Lestrade (Patrick Costello), Holmes's favourite foil, is also trying to crack the case and getting things hopelessly wrong.
Fans of the stories will recognize purloined bits from A Scandal in Bohemia, The Man with the Twisted Lip and The Adventure of the Empty House, just to name a few. There are humorous riffs on Holmes's pipe-smoking and signature deerstalker cap, and an incongruously sombre scene in which Watson forces him to confront his cocaine habit.
Starvox and co-producers June Entertainment have attempted to beef up the show's star power for this touring incarnation, which goes on to Washington and Chicago after its Toronto run. Along with Arquette, there's Maslow, from Nickelodeon's Big Time Rush, and Olstead, of the CBS sitcom Still Standing, who have been brought on presumably to attract a younger audience. They certainly don't seem to be here for any other reason. Maslow's pretty-boy Watson makes for a dull straight man to Arquette's chortling Holmes. Olstead, looking less like a prim lady than a dishevelled chorus girl, shows no flair for parody.
The other actors, most of them from the original Montreal cast, display more comic verve. Gatehouse's Moriarty, a real study in scarlet with red suit and hair, has some flamboyant fun playing a Victorian villain as conceived by Bob Fosse. Costello also inspires a few giggles as a gangly, bespectacled Lestrade, even if his slapstick routines look laboured. The seven remaining performers do solid work, although there's a tiresomely unfunny scene with a pair of chattering newspaper editors (Matthew Gagnon and Karl Graboshas) that would be the first thing I'd cut if I were wielding the scissors.
This is meant to be a playful, fast-moving show. James Lavoie's sleek production design is built for speed, with mobile scrims and scene-setting projections. Itai Erdal adds garishly ghoulish lighting and Jesse Ash's amusing sound design gives us everything from creepy organ flourishes to Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street. Shaver has cooked up some neat bits of business, from a scene imitating herky-jerky silent movies to a sight gag involving rigor mortis.
The solution for this Sherlock Holmes is elementary: Cut to a brisk 90 minutes and placed in a smaller venue, it could be quite an entertaining little play. Then we might even forgive Arquette for those times when he fumbles his lines.
Sherlock Holmes continues in Toronto to Nov. 8 (mirvish.com).