You'd never guessed that this film, a Sherlock Holmes-esque mystery with a tinge of Hammer Horror, is directed, rather ably in fact, by a Floridian with the name of Juan Carlos Medina, though the other pedigree of the film are thoroughly British. Intelligently and sumptuously adapted by Jane Goldman based on a novel by Peter Ackroyd, it also boasts a very capable British cast led by the charismatic and captivating duo of Bill Nighy and Olivia Cooke, with the latter being a particular joy to watch here. A series of macabre murders that the film has no qualms showing, has rocked the Limehouse district of London and Nighy's Detective John Kildare is assigned to find the culprit which the press has christened the Limehouse Golem. Involving characters from the dazzling entertainment business found in the music halls of the time and a certain philosopher called Karl Marx, the script is peppered with social commentaries on very modern themes such as discrimination and inequalities; sexuality and sexism, while providing the very exciting thrills of a whodunit. The frequent use of expositions and suppositions in the narrative structure belies its literary roots but they are calibrated stylishly to avoid making the film too talky and keep the audience guessing of their reliability or is there a sting coming next. While I was totally enchanted until the very end, the film may have got one too clever by half in the final scenes and I come out not totally convinced they all add up. Nevertheless, that minor vexation aside, this is a mostly satisfying romp that subtly manipulates its viewers to great effect in the name of (what else?) Entertainment.