They Might Be Giants (1971)

That was an excellent one.

I don't have all the words right now but this film is a work of art.

Don't listen to the negative reviews

By the time the dramatic fireworks start popping off, each one feels earned.

This is a quirky, oddly affecting comedy about a judge, gone psychotic after the death of his wife, who believes that he is Sherlock Holmes. His brother wants him committed to an asylum, not for reasons of concern, but so that he can become executor of the would be Holmes's considerable estate.A female psychiatrist is asked to interview him for the formality of the commitment but becomes fascinated by the "Holmes" she meets because of his truly extraordinary deductive reasoning. It's apparent that, delusional or not, he may be a genius of some kind, and far more fascinating than most ordinary mortals.The psychiatrist, whose name just happens to be Watson, joins this Sherlock Holmes in his quest to search the streets of New York City for his nemesis, Professor Moriarty. On the way they meet various other people, also largely spurned by society, but, somehow, kindred souls in an otherwise pretty cold world.This strange but intelligent, utterly charming film died a quick death at the 1971 box office, but has found a cult following of sorts over the years. George C. Scott, with briar pipe and deerstalker hat, is virtual perfection in the role of the man who believes he is Holmes, while Joanne Woodward, devoid of her usual glamour, playing the socially awkward psychiatrist who starts to gradually believe in his cause, brings a warmth and touching vulnerability to her role.The film has a few wonderful scenes with lovely little touches. Holmes takes his Watson to a little movie theatre, almost empty but for a few street people, and a makeout couple in the top balcony. Yet the street people there all know him, greeting him with smiles as "Mr. Holmes" at this theatre where he likes to come for comfort and watch westerns.At another unexpected moment a police officer suddenly comes around the corner, spots "Holmes" and a large smile spreads across his face as he says, "Why, Mr. Rathbone, it's an honor, sir," as he reaches over to shake his hand.And, towards the film's beginning, there is a marvelous scene in which Scott, dressed as Holmes, arrives at a seedy asylum where an inmate is being abused by an orderly. There's a low angle camera shot of a towering Scott/Holmes as he struts through the hallway unruffled, dispassionately disarming orderlies who try to grab him, then proceeds to analyze the mind of the abused patient in a manner that has the patient's doctor (Watson in her first encounter of him) in almost open mouthed admiration.The film's final scene will undoubtedly baffle many viewers because of its ambiguity. It's a moment that is clearly open to interpretation. But I think that scene, and this film, are about the soaring human spirit, and a belief in one's self even though logic and all around you may tell you that you are wrong.

'They Might Be Giants' is a modern fairy-tale, steeped in the trippie- hippie sixties but knowing of the dark cynicism of the seventies. George C. Scott as Justin Playfair is an eminent Judge who, in the depths of grief for his late wife, lays down his melancholy burden of sanity and becomes Sherlock Holmes. He broods in his den, of conspiracies real and imagined. Moriaty, the scourge of the western world mocks him in newspaper headlines of murder and mayhem, his brother plots to have him committed to plunder his wealth. Compelled to visit a psychiatrist adroitly played by fellow Oscar winner Joanne Woodward, he spies in her a sympathetic soul after first rebuffing her as yet another meddler. For she, much to his surprise is Doctor Mildred Watson. Her efforts to analyze him to ascertain if she should sign the committal papers are scuppered, for 'The game is a-foot!' As she grows disapprovingly into Holmes' ever ready assistant they travail the streets of New York picking up the flotsam and jetsam. A visit to a telephone exchange where a damsel in distress is saved, among a rooftop garden gangsters are vanquished, speeding taxis, clues hidden and found, new cohorts aligned to the cause. He leads them to the nethermost reaches of Central Park to face Moriaty, but as did the giant turn into a windmill, he is denied victory. However, a thought dawns; Moriaty's biggest crime was to hide from us the fact that we never left the garden of Eden. It is still here, beneath the soot and grime we have created and for us to find again. But as the enemy closes in it is just Holmes and Watson who remain. A bond not merely of companionship but of love and affection has blossomed between our heroes. The oncoming light and sound of hooves at the close of the movie could be literally explained; our heroes stand holding hands ready to face Moriaty or is it the Police or Gangsters? The light envelops them into total whiteout and roll credits. Those who look upon the end as a puzzle to be solved are sadly deluded. Must all movies be packaged up neatly for lazy audiences who can not fathom ambiguity. The joy of the end is that we will never know what their fate was, simply that it was a perfect moment of harmony in which Giants may yet again walk the earth.

This film starts well, but each scene becomes more silly than the last. Scott's and Woodward's performances are probably the only likable parts of this absurdity. The philosophical message, dangerous and childish, is that empirical reality may not be any more reliable than a madman's delusions, an idea that gained some traction with the drug-addled 60s and 70s crowds. The comedy doesn't work, and the action is cartoonish. The producers seem to have painted themselves into a corner toward the end and thrown in a slapstick scene in a supermarket, and then a completely meaningless ending. I don't buy the many suggestions that it's really a deep philosophical question at the end. The juvenile text that comes after that final whatever only makes it all the more ridiculous. I guess it's supposed to invite the audience to make up their own minds, but an eye roll would be giving it too much credit.

This a delicate thing to enjoy as fairy tales and fantasies are. The opening theme and titles set the whole stage and it is a glass of wine for the next 98 minutes or so. Scott and Woodward of, of course, captivating and the wonderful Jack Guilford is a national treasure. But what this film questions is "Who are we?" and what is reality. To a degree, Chaplin's CITY LIGHTS attempted this question in relation to the TRAMP and his alternative role of the MILLIONAIRE able to cure the blind girl. Who and what is real? Another film in the same genre is THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES with Ian Holm as the real Napoleon who, returning from St. Helena in 1821 finds that nobody BUT NOBODY believes him to to be the real Napoleon Bonaparte. The only fault with this film in a literal sense is that the hunt for Moriarty must be blank, there is no such person in our world who Holmes can find and confront. Like CITY LIGHTS, the ending closes without answering the question. But this is in our reality. Examine the ending with the notion that perhaps Dr. Watson, too, has crossed from our world into that of Holmes. Then it becomes much more interesting.Watch this delightful light film in a room with candles and a glass of very light wine. Savor it for it is a rare gem. I have given it an 8 out of 10 but in another reality, it may be a 10 out of 10. IF you can cross over to that reality.