The Limehouse Golum review: Jane Goldman adapts Peter Ackroyd’s novel about the serial killer who terrorised Victorian London before Jack The Ripper.
The Limehouse Golum review, Luke Ryan Baldock.
The Limehouse Golem proudly declares upon its promotional material that ‘Before The Ripper. Fear Has Another Name.’ Quite an intriguing boast, or at least it would be, if the tale in Juan Carlos Medina’s second feature, based on the novel by Peter Ackroyd, were actually based on a true story. It’s just odd to make a claim in relation to an actual piece of history. That’s not to say that the delicately crafted chiller is a stranger to bending truth and perception.
The very idea sees characters recount stories that begin to form a tapestry around a series of murders, which may or may not have come to an end after Lizzie Cree (Olivia Cooke) reportedly poisons her husband John Cree (Sam Reid). Detective Kildaire (Bill Nighy), is placed on the case of the infamous Limehouse Golem, supposedly as a sacrifice from a frustrated Scotland Yard. He believes Lizzie Cree’s story will help break the case wide open, while pursuing suspects such as Dan Leno (Douglas Booth), George Gissing, and Karl Marx, all based on real life people.
The film has a high caliber in most respects, though nothing really stands out. Nighy is fine in a role originally meant for Alan Rickman, but even though his delivery and emotional exertion is on point, his mannerisms are (as always) very ‘Bill Nighy’. These work ok in comedies and more quaint dramas, but seeing Nighy struggle to disappear into a character where the tone is so dark and gruesome becomes distracting. Cooke, on the other hand, is phenomenal, completely disappearing into a complex role of an abused child, wanting starlet, and repressed wife.
Medina’s handling of the grim tones and Jane Goldman’s punchy script is what you might expect from a watered down novel adaptation, and this sadly leads to the film’s biggest downfall. For a murder mystery, it’s painfully predictable.
Taking away the murder mystery genre’s main focus for watching, the countless red herrings become a chore to sit through, and even the film itself seems to rush through these as if to say ‘Don’t pay too much attention, we’re not stopping for long.’ It’s a shame, as there are more complex, and more interesting issues to be explored here. Kildaire is recovering from scandalous rumours of homosexuality, while his latest partner, played by the fantastic Daniel Mays, confides he himself is gay. Although thankfully sparing us an unnecessary romance, the two barely get time to explore this connection in such a time. There’s also the treatment of women and an early look at celebrity. All themes that are still relevant today, but aren’t given room by the grisly whodunnit approach.
The Limehouse Golem ends up being a confidently produced gothic chiller that has nothing new to add to the genre. Anything of interest is drowned out by the film’s need to reveal the killers, motives, and methods while trying to reduce plot holes. In a world of great and lengthy television series, perhaps The Limehouse Golem was better suited elsewhere, though if the ending was always that obvious, then I’m glad it was over quickly.
The Limehouse Golum review by Luke Ryan Baldock, August 2017.
The Limehouse Golum review is released in UK cinemas on 1st September 2017.
