Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

2011 film directed by Guy Ritchie

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is a 2011 British-American action mystery film directed by Guy Ritchie and produced by Joel Silver, Lionel Wigram, Susan Downey, and Dan Lin. It is a sequel to the 2009 film Sherlock Holmes, based on the character of the same name created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The screenplay is written by Kieran Mulroney and Michele Mulroney. Robert Downey and Jude Law reprise their roles as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, and several other actors appear as characters they played in the 2009 film. Holmes and Watson join forces to outwit and bring down their most cunning adversary, Professor Moriarty, played by Jared Harris. The film is specifically influenced by Conan Doyle's work The Final Problem, but it is an independent story rather than a strict adaptation.

Sherlock Holmes edit

  • [in need of a distraction to get the crowd out of the auction house.] One million pounds! [Everyone gasps and looks at him, mortified; the tapestry behind him promptly bursts into flames] Oh, and, uh, by the way, fire!
  • [ to Dr. Hoffmen-Stall ] Perhaps you have heard of me. My name is Sherlock H... [bomb explodes; coughing] H... Holmes!
  • [referring to his disguise, a great false beard] It's so overt it's covert.
  • [as Watson is getting ready to shoot] Make it count!
  • [to Watson] Don't dance! You know what happens when you dance.
  • [note to Watson] Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come all the same.
  • If we can stop him, we shall prevent the collapse of Western civilization... No pressure.
  • [dancing with Sim] Just follow my lead.
  • [to Moriarty] Be careful what you fish for.
  • Bishop to Bishop eight, discovered check and incidentally, mate.
  • His advantage: my injury. My advantage: his rage.

Irene Adler edit

Life is seldom about the destination, Sherlock,

Dr. John Watson edit

  • [throttling Holmes] Did you kill my wife?! Did-you-just-kill-my-wife?!
  • I'm on my honeymoon!
  • [to Holmes, performing CPR on him] I know you can hear me, you selfish bastard!

Professor James Moriarty edit

  • Your clock... is ticking.
  • You see...hidden within the unconscious is an insatiable desire for conflict. So you're not fighting much as you are the human condition. All I want is to own the bullets and the bandages. War, on an industrial scale, is inevitable. They'll do it themselves, within a few years. All I have to wait.
  • Let's not waste anymore of each other's time...we both know how this ends.
  • Come now, did you think you are the only one who can play this game?
  • After we conclude our business here, I shall endeavor to find the most creative of endings for the good doctor and his wife.

Sebastian Moran edit

  • [aiming a sniper rifle at Watson] What are you playing at? [sees a cannon being aimed back at him] ...That's not fair.

Dialogue edit

Sherlock Holmes: [disguised as a Chinese man] Three men have been following you for the last half mile. Their motives... highly unsavoury.
Irene Adler: [turns around to look and sees the men] No! [pulls Holmes away with her; in a secluded alley; Irene gasps and turns around to Holmes] Oh and by the way, they’re not pursuing me, they’re escorting me [looks over Holmes' shoulder at the three other thugs who approach them] and instead of three, there seem to be, er, four.
Sherlock Holmes: [gives a short laugh, Irene takes the packet out of his hands] Steady hands with that, Irene.
Irene Adler: Oh, I don’t think it’s my hands you have to worry about. [addressing the thugs] Now, be careful with the face, boys! We do have a dinner date tonight. [to Holmes] Don’t fill up on bread. [leaves]
[Thug begins to whistle Mozart’s Serenade No. 13. When Holmes joins in, they begin to take off his disguise]
Sherlock Holmes: [stops suddenly and smiles] I forgot the rest. [The biggest thug grabs him around the throat and shoves him into a wall] Uh, it’s coming back now. [proceeds to beat up the thugs]

[Adler meets Moriarty at a restaurant]
Prof. James Moriarty: Do you have the letter?
Irene Adler: It was taken.
Prof. James Moriarty: Taken? Well that is unfortunate.
Irene Adler: During the chaos created by your package. [A waiter pours tea for her] Thank you. [to Moriarty] Perhaps... if you had shared your plans-
Prof. James Moriarty: You wish to know my plans, now, do you? Did you imagine, Miss Adler, that something would happen to you? Is that why you chose to meet here in a public place? Your favourite restaurant?
[Moran immediately taps a spoon against his glass three times. On cue, everybody in the room, including the waiters, stops what they are doing, stands up, and file out of the room, except for Moran, Moriarty and Irene]
Prof. James Moriarty: I don’t blame you. I blame myself. It’s been apparent to me for quite some time than you had succumbed to your feelings for him. And this isn’t the first occasion Mr Holmes has inconvenienced me in recent months... The question is... what to do about it?

[Watson opens the door to Holmes’ study, to find himself in a lush jungle filled with wildlife]
Dr. John Watson: [deadpan] Your hedge needs trimming!
Sherlock Holmes: [out of sight, barely audible] Where am I?
Dr. John Watson: I don’t care where you are, as long as you're ready.
Sherlock Holmes: I'm waiting.
Dr. John Watson: I’m not gonna play this game. Remember, I have to catch the last [is immediately struck by a dart from behind, but it doesn't do him any harm; he turns] train.
Sherlock Holmes: [still out of sight] Oh! Oh! That's you dead, I'm afraid.
Dr. John Watson: You win [sits down and observes the room surreptitiously] I lose. [disappears behind a newspaper] Game over. [another dart hits the newspaper, Watson quickly puts it down again]
Sherlock Holmes: Still don't see me? [reveals himself to have been standing in front of a pillar and a bookshelf wearing camoflauge, laughs, and steps into the middle of the room] Quel surprise! [takes off the hood of his disguise]
Dr. John Watson: I'm not going out with you dressed like that.
Sherlock Holmes: Would you prefer it if I joined you in the fashion faux pas wearing fine military dress with that heinous handmade scarf? Clearly an early attempt of your fiancé.
Dr. John Watson: Oh, how I've missed you, Holmes.
Sherlock Holmes: Have you? Why, I've barely noticed your absence. Then again I'm knee-deep in research. Extracting fluids from the adrenal glands of sheep and designing my own urban camouflage. All the while verging on a decisive breakthrough in the single most important case of my career, perhaps of all time.

Sherlock Holmes: Has all my instruction been for naught? [pours] You still read the official statement and believe it. It’s a game, dear man, a shadowy game. We’re playing cat and mouse, the professor and I. Cloak and dagger.
Dr. John Watson: I thought it was spider and fly. [reads the label of the bottle Holmes has been pouring from]
Sherlock Holmes: I’m not a fly, I’m a cat.
Dr. John Watson: Not a mouse, but a dagger. [Holmes drinks] You’re drinking embalming fluid.
Sherlock Holmes: [exhales] Yes. Care for a drop?
Dr. John Watson: You do seem...
Sherlock Holmes: Excited?
Dr. John Watson: Manic.
Sherlock Holmes: I am.
Dr. John Watson: Verging on...
Sherlock Holmes: Ecstatic?
Dr. John Watson: Psychotic. [pause] I should’ve brought you a sedative.

Dr. John Watson: [kicks the automobile in an approving manner] Not bad that. So, where are we going?
Mycroft Holmes: [out of sight] In the future there’ll be one of these machines in every town in Europe. [emerges out from under an overhanging roof]
Sherlock Holmes: Loitering in the woodshed again, are we, Myckie?
Mycroft Holmes: Good evening, Sherly.
Sherlock Holmes: Yeah.
Mycroft Holmes: I see your boot maker is ill, dear brother.
Sherlock Holmes: As I detect that you have recently changed the brand of soap with which you shave.
Mycroft Holmes: May I point out that the chimney in the front room at Baker Street is still in need of a damn good sweeping out?
Sherlock Holmes: Are you aware that the hackney carriage by which you arrived had a damaged wheel?
Mycroft Holmes: Yes, the left. And it’s plain to the meanest intelligence that you have recently acquired a new bow for your violin.
Sherlock Holmes: Same bow, new strings.
Dr. John Watson: And may I deduce, Mycroft...good evening, by the way. [gives Mycroft his hand]
Mycroft Holmes: No.
Sherlock Holmes: [to Watson] He doesn't...
Dr John Watson: Ah, well. May I deduce that you who rarely strays from the path that runs from your home to the Diogenes Club and never on a Monday when they serve your favourite potted shrimps must be here for some far more important reason than my stag party?
Mycroft Holmes: You know he’s nothing like as slow-witted as you’ve been leading me to believe, Sherly.

[Holmes interviews Simza]
Madame Simza Heron: If you have a specific question, hold it in your mind.
Sherlock Holmes: Hmm. [Simza picks up her cards] Um... [points to his head to indicate that he is holding a question down in his mind] Hold it.
Madame Simza Heron: Let me know when you're ready.
Sherlock Holmes: Actually, I'd prefer to read your fortune. [takes Simza's cards and flips through them] Temperance. [sets a card down on the table] Inverted. Indicative of volatility. A woman who has recently taken comfort in drink. From what does she seek solace? What does she not wish to see?
Madame Simza Heron: A fool embarassing himself?
Sherlock Holmes: [smirks] Ah, yes. The fool. [puts down another card that says "Le Fou"] Someone has been led astray, involved in something without their knowledge.
Madame Simza Heron: Not bad, but, um, you have to make me believe you. I have to see it in your eyes.
Sherlock Holmes: Right, I can do better. [sets another card down] The two of cups: a powerful bond. But between whom? A brother and sister, perhaps? [Simza looks at Holmes, realizing what his words mean] And I see a name. Yes, it's.... "Rene".
Madame Simza Heron: What do you want?
Sherlock Holmes: The Devil. [Places a Devil card on top of the other cards]
Madame Simza Heron: Why are we playing this game? [Holmes pulls out of his jacket the letter he snatched from Irene at the auction house; Simza examines it] Where did you get this?
Sherlock Holmes: I stole it from a woman at an auction room, but I believe it was intended for you. [Simza unfolds the paper inside the envelope, revealing a sketch of Rene's face; Simza reads the letter on the other side]
Madame Simza Heron: [subtitled French] "Sim, my love. Remember my face, as you will never see it again. That is the price I must pay to change the course of history. I have finally found my purpose in life-"
Sherlock Holmes: Found my purpose in life. So, the question I've been holding is, "What purpose is Rene fulfilling?" [Simza looks up from the letter]
Madame Simza Heron: Time is up. I have other clients. [Holmes gets up and starts to leave, but suddenly goes over to Simza and whispers in her ear]
Sherlock Holmes: Though you may not have detected the whisp of astrachan fur snagged on a nail over my left shoulder. You couldn't have failed to notice the overpowering aroma of herring pickled in vodka, in tandem with a truly unfortunate body odor. There's a man concealed in the rafters above us: a Cossack - renowned for their infeasible acrobatic abilities, and are notorious for moonlighting as assassins. So it's safe to presume that your next client is here to kill you. [smiles] Anything else? [Simza does not answer] No? [Holmes starts to leave, but suddenly turns around and pulls out an umbrella]
Sherlock Holmes: [voice-over; in slow-motion] First, pillage the nest. [He hooks the umbrella handle around the Cossack's knee and pulls on it, causing him to fall out of his hiding place] Clip wings. [Holmes strikes the assassin a blow with the umbrella that knocks a throwing knife out of his hand and twists it] Now, blunt his beak. [delivers hammer blows to each side of the face, then ducks to avoid a return blow] Crack eggs. [delivers a kick to the groin; the assassin pulls out a knife] Scramble. [Holmes knocks the knife aside] Pinch of salt. [jabs the umbrella into the chest, then deflects another oncoming knife] Touch of pepper. [jabs the assassin with the tip of the umbrella] Flip the omelet. [performs a judo throw that causes the assassin to flip over and land on his back] Additional seasoning required. [The assassin tries to stand up but gets a good blow to the face] Breakfast is served. [Back in real time, Holmes starts to do the above, but just as he gets to "clip wings", Simza throws knives that lodge themselves in the Cossack's chest; he falls through the curtain]
Sherlock Holmes: Come with me. I need you alive. Now! [They leave the room just as the Cossack's eyes open, revealing that he is wearing protective lining]

[Watson is about to reach for all of his winnings]
Dr. John Watson: All mine? [Holmes crashes through the window and knocks Watson's winnings off the betting table. He looks up and sees Simza chasing the Cossack one floor above and takes off. Watson looks around and suddenly realizes that he is surrounded by opportunistic gamblers] Now wait a minute. [A brawl breaks out as everyone tries to grab the scattered money]

Sherlock Holmes: [enters Moriarty’s study, a record is playing] “Fischerweise”, Schubert, 1826. [quotes from the song]
“Gib auf nur deine Tücke
Den Fisch betrügst du nicht.
Give up your foolish trickery...”
Professor James Moriarty: [finishes for him] “...This fish you cannot cheat.”

Sherlock Holmes: Are you familiar with the study of graphology?
Professor James Moriarty: I’ve never given it any serious thought, no.
Sherlock Holmes: The psychological analysis of handwriting. The upward strokes on the ‘p’, the ‘j’, the ‘m’, indicate a genius level intellect, while the flourishes in the lower zone denote a highly creative, yet meticulous nature, but if one observers the overall slant and the pressure of the writing, there’s suggestion of acute narcissism, a complete lack of empathy, and a pronounced inclination toward-
Professor James Moriarty: No.
Sherlock Holmes: Moral insanity.
Professor James Moriarty: In answer to your previous request regarding Dr. Watson not being involved, the answer is "no": the laws of celestial mechanics dictate that when two objects collide, there is always damage of a collateral nature. [stands up] Exempli gratia: two gentlemen find themselves at cross purposes. [flashback to Irene at the restaurant] A young woman, torn between them. The strain proves too much for her, and she suddenly falls ill [Irene stops, gasps, clutches her chest, and collapses] with tragic consequences. [Moriarty sets down one of Irene's monogrammed handkerchiefs on a chess board; a flashback is shown of him grabbing it from the dying Irene's hand] A rare form of tuberculosis. She succumbed in a matter of seconds. [Moriarty picks up a king] Now, are you sure you want to play this game?
Sherlock Holmes: I'm afraid, you'd lose.
Professor James Moriarty: Rest assured, if you attempt to bring destruction down upon me, I shall do the same to you. My respect for you, Mr. Holmes, is the only reason you're still alive.
Sherlock Holmes: You have paid me several compliments. Let me pay you one in return when I say that if I were assured of the former eventuality... I would cheerfully accept the latter.
Prof. James Moriarty: Oh and... give my regards to the happy couple.

[During the train trip, someone knocks on the door to Watson and Mary's compartment]
Dr. John Watson: Come in! [The door opens and a man with a champagne bottle comes in]
Mary Watson: Oh, yes, please!
Dr. John Watson: We didn’t order that.
"Train Conductor": With our compliments, sir.
Dr. John Watson: Thank you. Put it there. [The conductor comes in and closes the door behind himself. He promptly attacks Watson with a knife, but Watson wards him off, and Mary puts a gun to his head, while Watson opens the door]
Mary Watson: Open the door, John. I think it’s time for you to leave!
Dr. John Watson: [throws the man off the train; to Mary] Sit down! [opens the door and looks out. A couple of soldiers come towards their compartment; a mystery person suddenly overpowers one of the soldiers and opens fire on the other men, who duck as bullets shatter the windows; when the intruder comes towards Watson, Watson draws his gun on - Holmes, in drag!]
Sherlock Holmes: I agree, it's not my best disguise, but I had to make do! [enters the compartment]
Mary Watson: Oh, my God! [Holmes sits down next to Mary and hands Watson his pistol]
Sherlock Holmes: They'll be back.

Dr. John Watson: [in the train, watching for attackers with his gun ready] How many were you expecting?
Sherlock Holmes: Half a dozen.
Dr. John Watson: Who are they?
Sherlock Holmes: A wedding present from Moriarty. [to Mary] Lovely ceremony by the way. Many a tear shed in joy.
Mary Watson: Oh John!
Dr. John Watson: [shoots] Yes, just a minute, darling!
Sherlock Holmes: Do you trust me?
Mary Watson: No!
Sherlock Holmes: Well then I should have to... do something about that. [As they cross a bridge, he pushes Mary out of the train, and she falls into the river]
Dr. John Watson: [shoots] Who’s up to bat next, you bastards? [fires] Send out the fast bowler!
Sherlock Holmes: John, do shut the door. [Watson does it, looks around, and realises that Mary is gone] It had to be done! [Watson runs to the other door and looks out] She’s safe now! In my own defence... [Watson attacks him and punches him] I timed it perfectly!
Dr. John Watson: Did you kill my wife?! Did you just kill my new wife?!
Sherlock Holmes: Of course not!
Dr. John Watson: [slaps him] What do you mean? How do you know that when you just threw her off a train?!
Sherlock Holmes: I told you I timed it perfectly!
Dr. John Watson: What does that mean?! [They struggle] Explain!
Sherlock Holmes: By the time I explain, we'll both be dead! [Moriarty's henchmen open the door and one of them aims a rifle, which is jammed with a lipstick cap inserted into the barrel; lengthy flashback begins showing that Holmes has replaced a bullet in an ammo belt with a tube of lipstick and shoves the cap in the rifle barrel, before covering the henchmen in phosphorus dust; in real time, the henchman fires, the cap creates a squib load, the barrel ruptures, igniting the phosphorus, causing the henchman to burst into flames]
Sherlock Holmes: That was no accident. It was by design. Now, do you need me to elaborate, or can we just crack on?

[Mary has been thrown off the train by Holmes into the river. As she surfaces, Mycroft arrives in a rowboat]
Mycroft Holmes: Over here, Madam! I believe congratulations are in order, Mrs. Watson. [Mary swims to the boat] I'm the other Holmes.
Mary Watson: You mean there's two of you? Oh, how marvelous! Can this evening get any better? [Mycroft helps her on-board]

[Holmes and Watson have fled the henchmen by hiding in another train compartment after traversing via the exterior]
Sherlock Holmes: Lie down with me, Watson.
Dr. John Watson: Why?!
Sherlock Holmes: I insist. [Watson lies on the floor next to Holmes, as the henchmen a few doors down assemble a Vickers machine gun]
Dr. John Watson: [irritably] What are we doing down here?
Sherlock Holmes: [lights a pipe] We are waiting... I am smoking. [The soldiers open up, bullets riddling all of the compartments of the train and the walls, and debris raining down on Holmes and Watson] Patiently waiting!
Dr. John Watson: For what?
Sherlock Holmes: Your window of opportunity. [When the machine gun jams due to the lipstick , Watson jumps up and aims his pistol through the blasted bullet holes] Make it count! [Watson fires, his shot hitting a henchman who has primed a grenade. In shock, the thug drops it into his satchel, by which time the other henchman cycles the bolt and once again opens fire] I said make it count! How many windows must I provide!?

[Holmes and Watson are in Simza's tent]
Sherlock Holmes: Madame, this a glorious hedgehog goulash, I can't remember ever having had better.
Dr. John Watson: Do tell me, when was the last time you had hedgehog goulash?
Sherlock Holmes: I told you Watson, I can't remember.

[Holmes, Watson and Simza are on a rooftop opposite the hotel where a bombing has occurred]
Dr. John Watson: [holding his stick like it's a rifle] He took the shot from here, using a tripod, and a shooting stick. [close-up as Moran sets up his rifle]
Sherlock Holmes: And realized there was a better position. There's a faint scrape where he dragged his tripod and set it up here. 600 yards. [close-up of Moran dragging his rifle and screwing a silencer onto the end of the barrel]
Dr. John Watson: 650.
Sherlock Holmes: Not to mention the 7 or 8 mph wind.
Dr. John Watson: He would've needed a wind gauge. Which he placed here. [points to some faint scratch marks on the railing]
Sherlock Holmes: And put a cigarette down here. [points to a spot on the decorum with a small spot]
Madame Simza Heron: Can anyone shoot that far?
Dr. John Watson: Not more than half a dozen men in all of Europe.

Madame Simza Heron: [showing Holmes and Watson their horses, to Watson] The black one is yours. The grey one is mine. [to Holmes] And this is for you.
Sherlock Holmes: Ah, hm, right! Where are the wagons?
Madame Simza Heron: The wagon is too slow. Can’t you ride? [Watson grimaces, hesitatingly]
Dr. John Watson: It’s not that he can’t ride. How is it you put it, Holmes?
Sherlock Holmes: They're dangerous at both ends and crafty in the middle. Why would I want anything with a mind of its own bobbing about between my legs? Then I should require a bicycle, thank you very much! It’s 1891! Could have chartered a balloon! [He stalks off; Watson turns to Simza]
Dr. John Watson: How can we make this more manageable?
[Cuts to the group travelling on horses through the woods, followed by Holmes - who is riding a little pony!]
Sherlock Holmes: Where's the fire?

[During the shootout with German soldiers in the train yard]
Dr. John Watson: Holmes, how did you know I would find you?
Sherlock Holmes: You didn't find me; you collapsed a building on me!

Sherlock Holmes: Did you call me a selfish bastard?
Dr. John Watson: Probably.

Sim: What do you see?
Sherlock Holmes: Everything. That is my curse.

Sherlock Holmes: By the way, who taught you how to dance?
Dr. John Watson: [smiles] You did.

Sherlock Holmes: [Visualizing his final fight with Moriarty; thinking] His advantage: My injury. My advantage: His rage [After lighting Holmes' pipe, Moriarty attacks, Holmes tries to block him, exchanging blows] Incoming assault feral... but experienced. Use his momentum to counter. [Holmes starts to block and counter Moriarty's punches and punches him in the face]
Professor James Moriarty: [Visualizing the same fight with Holmes; thinking] Come now, you really think you're the only one that can play this game? [Moriarty takes punch from Holmes and locks his left arm while hitting Holmes' injured right shoulder] Chop arm, target weakness. [Swings Holmes into a pillar] Follow with haymaker.
Sherlock Holmes: [Countering Moriarty's haymakers] Ah, there we find the boxing champion of Cambridge. [Punches Moriarty]
Professor James Moriarty: Competent, but predictable. [Blocks and catches Holmes' left arm] Now, allow me to reply [Blocks Holmes' right punch and jabs his injured shoulder]
Sherlock Holmes: Arsenal running dry, adjust strategy. [Holmes tries to kick at Moriarty's feet, he counters, and starts to overpower Holmes]
Professor James Moriarty: [Slams Holmes against a table] Wound taking its toll. [Twists Holmes' injured arm and shoulder]
Sherlock Holmes: As I feared. Injury makes defense untenable. [Moriarty twists Holmes onto the railing of the balcony] Prognosis: Increasingly negative [Moriarty is able to hit Holmes more freely and block any desperate punches from Holmes]
Professor James Moriarty: Let's not waste anymore of one another's time. We both know how this ends. [Moriarty pushes Holmes over the railing, to the falls below.]
[Cuts back to Holmes and Moriarty looking at one another, Moriarty lighting Holmes' pipe]
Sherlock Holmes: [Smiles at Moriarty, who smiles back; thinking] Conclusion: Inevitable. Unless...[As Moriarty finishes lighting his pipe, Holmes blows the embers into Moriarty's face, stunning him, allowing Holmes to grapple him and pull them both back against the railing. Just then, Watson shows up, seeing them. Holmes looks at Watson, then closes his eyes, kicking off a table and flipping both him and Moriarty over the railing.]

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