Producers: Liam Coutts, Joe Stephenson and Guy De Beaujeu   Director: Joe Stephenson   Screenplay: Dan Kelly-Mulhern   Cast: Eddie Izzard, Scott Chambers, Lindsay Duncan, Robyn Cara, Jonathan Hyde, Morgan Watkins and Simon Callow   Distributor: Hammer Studios

Grade: C-

The Hammer Studios logo introducing this gender-bending update of Robert Louis Stevenson’s famous horror novella features a collage of clips from the old Hammer productions of the 1960s and 1960s, especially the classic Dracula series with Christopher Lee.  It’s a sure bet that Joe Stephenson’s movie for the newly-revived company won’t be joining those esteemed genre favorites .  (To be fair, the old Hammer itself made a poorly received adaptation, “The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll,” aka “House of Fright,” back in 1960.)

Before it shuttered in the mid-eighties, the old Hammer made another Stevenson-inspired movie, “Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde” (1971), which fared much better.  In a sense you can say that Stevenson’s effort, written by Dan Kelly-Mulhern, shares its DNA.  But it’s not nearly as good.

That’s rather surprising, given that its female Dr. Jekyll, Nina, is played by Eddie Izzard.  But until a protracted finale, Izzard’s not given much chance to break loose, being limited to a mostly tight-lipped take on a reclusive, wealthy pharmaceutical mogul.  Izzard, encased in a wig and attractive dresses designed by Libby Irwin and wielding a big walking stick, carries off the role, but it becomes a rather tedious business.

The other major character in what’s a virtual two-hander is Rob (Scott Chambers), a sad-sack ex-con just released from prison whose brother Ewan (Morgan Watkins) somehow arranges him to get an interview for a job as caregiver to the debilitated Jekyll despite his lack of credentials or experience.  (Rob is desperate for a job that might gain him visitation to his infant daughter, who’s in the care of Social Services and ill with cancer.)  Nina’s stern, officious estate manager Sandra (Lindsay Duncan) is aghast that such a candidate even merited consideration, but Nina is unaccountably taken with him and insists that he get a trial run.

Except for a few blow-ups Nina and Rob get along surprisingly well, especially after Sandra disappears, rather suspiciously.  But there’s a disturbing interloper—Maeve (Robyn Cara), Rob’s ex-girlfriend, an addict who demands that he help her rob the Jekyll place or she’ll block any visitation with their daughter.  He refuses, but Maeve and her masked partner show up anyway, and a raucously bloody scene ensues, in which Nina reveals that she has an evil alter-ego, Rachel, who’s been interacting with Rob without his knowing it.  She also confronts him with a proposition that promises wealth and power, but with a catch.  There’s also a twist that explains how Rob has been being manipulated from the start. 

For most of its running-time “Doctor Jekyll” is merely slow and dreary, but in the finale it becomes incredibly muddled, particularly in terms of the doctor’s condition which, it’s variously suggested, is something inherited from her father Henry (Jonathan Hyde), or the result of drug experiments, or a case of demonic possession.  It’s also here that the film indulges in special effects that are decidedly not special. 

What fun the movie provides consists pretty much exclusively in watching Izzard inhabiting the character of fastidious Nina; unfortunately, when Rachel shows up in full high voltage at the end, the result isn’t nearly as amusing.  As for Chambers, he ambles through the picture wearing a goofy grin that periodically morphs into a frightened grimace, until in a final scene—which features Simon Callow in a cameo as an understandably befuddled TV interviewer—he goes fully gonzo.  Suffice it to say it’s no wonder that Izzard spends most of their time together staring quizzically in Rob’s direction, and not simply because of the plans Jekyll has for him.  The only other actors of note are Duncan and Cara, both of whom play to the rafters.

The movie, like old Hammer fare, makes the most of a modest budget.  Natalie O’Connor’s production design has some elegance, especially as shot in glossy widescreen by Birgit Dierken.  But the editing by Stephenson and Andrew Hulme is often dilatory, making for sluggish going until the wild wackiness of the close, and Blair Mowat’s score goes into overdrive trying to beef up the jump scares.

There’s a kernel of a nifty idea in “Doctor Jekyll,” but the result doesn’t realize either its campy comic potential or its thriller components.