A ridiculous take on the Stevenson tome from the Valerie Martin novel that finds the usually reliable Stephen Frears out of his element with a film that gets sillier as it goes along. On the plus side the cinematography of P. Rousselot is quite striking. Roberts gives a poor turn here struggling with her character and more so her accent while Malkovich basically chews whatever scenery that Glenn Close didn't digest.
The script is certainly daft in this Hollywood remake. The leading perspective of the housemaid is just a pretext to point the focus on Roberts at a time when, despite her artistic limitations, everything she touched turned gold. There is barely any credibility to the attempt of romance or any depth to the shenanigans of Jekyll/Hyde. To finish slashing this flick off, the gothic and horror elements are pretty weak.