Doctor Jekyll movie review & film summary (2024)

This isn’t the first time Hammer has put a gender-swapped spin on the acclaimed Robert Louis Stevenson story – see 1971’s “Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde,” in which a serum transformed a male Henry Jekyll into a libidinous female alter ego. But “Chicken” director Joe Stephenson and screenwriter Dan Kelly-Mulhern have re-adapted the story into a low-fi chamber play whose campy delights take far too long to take murderous shape. 

Its delights, apart from Blair Mowat’s delightfully outre, baroque score, fall mostly on Eddie Izzard, and her mesmerizingly controlled turn as Dr. Nina Jekyll. She’s a reclusive billionaire with a mysterious condition that requires her to take her meds on time (gee, I wonder what happens if she skips a dose?). With her stern handler Sandra (Lindsay Duncan) overwhelmed, she puts out a call for hired help, and who should answer but Rob Stevenson (“Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey 2″‘s Scott Chambers), a baby-faced bad dad fresh out of prison and rehab, trying to get his life together so he can see his daughter. 

In its first act, “Doctor Jekyll” plays out like a perverse low-budget spin on “Phantom Thread” – the tortured genius puttering away in their empty home, the fresh-faced muse unwittingly wrapped up in their machinations, the taskmaster training a jaundiced eye at the both of them. But the film struggles to maintain any kind of suspense as to Jekyll’s true motivations for hiring Rob, and the secretive nature of her condition; subplots involving motion-sensor cameras, locked rooms, and Rob’s drug-addict ex-wife flail about aimlessly before colliding in a bloody mess near the film’s end.

To her credit, Izzard holds the lean script aloft with aplomb, and she’s a solid 80% of the reason to watch this. She’s always been a tremendous performer, but being given the chance to lean so hard into her transness in these more recent roles unfolds new layers of performance that are nothing short of mesmerizing. As Nina, she’s prim, quiet, and commanding; she tears into a bowl of “crunchy, nutty corn flakes” with all the fervor of a filet mignon. As Rachel Hyde, she sneers and purrs her way through each line with divine camp. It’s hardly Shakespeare – funny, since she just came off a one-woman production of “Hamlet” – but she has tremendous fun with the part.