“Up in the Air”

Rated: R

George Clooney might just be Hollywood’s favorite weatherman and “Up in the Air ” his latest prediction of cultural precipitation: gloomy today, with a chance of emotional drizzle tomorrow, and clouds of despair possible for the foreseeable future.

Clooney plays Ryan Bingham, a “corporate downsizing specialist” who travels the Midwest, firing people from their jobs.

He’s unmarried, blissful in his hotel-to-hotel, airport-to-airport existence. Bingham’s the exception to the “no man is an island” concept, an isolated, dispassionate chunk of granite protruding through the icy gray sea of humanity.

But something happens to Bingham as he nears his 10-mil lionth frequent flier mile. His sister’s marriage looms, and he meets a lovely compatriot, a fellow high-mileage traveler named Alex (Vera Farmiga).

Suddenly Bingham’s peaceful, uncomplicated existence is on the verge of a shake-up. The film is the story of Bingham’s realization that life may be more than it seems. Or . . . maybe not.

Clooney plays Bingham with the same easy gait that made “Out of Sight” so watchable, that made “Michael Clayton” one of the best pictures of 2008. Just playing himself, the man’s Cary Grant-attractive, Jimmy Stewartlikable.

Watching Clooney sell you on the joys of solitude or sell himself on the notion of sudden, unexpected emotion is fascinating, rewarding in some hard-to-describe way. Watching Clooney cloak himself in characters who too often find themselves at the precipice of a deep inner void is even more intriguing.

He’s like Willy Loman (“Death of a Salesman”) with a funny bone—but instead of success as the elusive brass ring, Bingham grasps at love and perhaps, like Loman, reaches for all the wrong reasons.

“Up in the Air” is bitingly funny here and there, but it’s funny in the way you might find a clown juggling plastic balls in the rain to be funny until you stop to wonder why.

It’s not a dark comedy, more like a bleak comedy, filled with the hollow laughter of a happy life suddenly glimpsed from another angle, another view, and with the realization that sometimes life’s like a fast car on a lonely two-lane highway. There’s no place to turn, no reason to brake—it’s not a problem if you love the solitude of the road, the wind in your hair. But when you stop making the best of it, what then?

If Clooney and company are indeed barometers of cultural Americana, bring an umbrella. I suspect we’re in for some rain.

—D.W.

“Sherlock Holmes”

Rated: PG-13

He outboxes opponents twichis weight! He survives fallfrom tall buildings! He runs effortlessly through London’s sewers! He’s “Sherlock Holmes,” super-sleuth of Victorian England. British physician Sir ArthuConan Doyle created Holmeand his partner in crime, Dr. John Watson, in short stories published in The Strand magazine in the 1800s. Director Guy Ritchie’s attempt to remake the cerebral gumshoe into an Indiana Jones wannabe exemplifies the dangers of tampering with a classic.

The film kicks off smartly with a horse-and-buggy police chase through the dark London streets and a fight during which Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) analyzes his moves as he debilitates his foes. But as the film wears on, so does the unrelenting action. Ritchie apparently feels that if one fight scene is good, half a dozen are better.

The story gets lost among the slam-bang set pieces and slo-mo explosions. With four writers credited, it’s no wonder the script’s a muddle and characters rush to various locations with no motivation except to face another death-defying predicament.

The thrills are hung on a skeleton plot involving Lord Blackwell (Mark Strong), leader of a secret society and practitioner of black magic. Blackwell is sentenced to death for murder; the criminal hangs. Watson (Jude Law) pronounces him dead, but the case reopens when Blackwell escapes from his grave and sets out to destroy Parliament.

Along the way Holmes encounters Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams), who appeared as an adventuress in Doyle’s story “A Scandal in Bohemia.” Here she’s a petty criminal willing to do anything for a price. First she works against Holmes, then she’s on his side. She also tries—to no avail—to generate some sparks with Holmes.

Downey’s unkempt character behaves more like Tom Baker’s quirky Dr. Who than the aloof Holmes. Downey and Law play their characters as if in a buddy flick as they argue, bicker and crack jokes. The interplay generally works well, although the dialogue can get lost due to the actors’ mumbling and whispering.

An interesting subplot involves Watson’s fiancee, Mary Morstan (Kelly Reilly), whom he met in Doyle’s “The Sign of the Four.”

But what’s the point of the totally gratuitous shot of Holmes naked and handcuffed to a bed?

The film’s brawn overshadows Holmes’ brainwork. The ending sets up a sequel, but if the detective’s smart, he’ll retire.

—Sally Carpenter