Sherlock: The Reichenbach Fall

PEOPLE. The things I find in the drafts folder of this blog...like half-forgotten musings on The Reichenbach Fall from TWO YEARS AGO.

This Sherlock post isn't going to be nearly as in-depth as past blog entries (i.e., The Hounds of Baskerville or A Scandal in Belgravia), but as Sherlock is finally returning to Masterpiece with Series III THIS SUNDAY, I feel compelled to post something about this installment of the show (and in case you're wondering, yes, I have managed to avoid spoilers as to how Sherlock survives that fall!).

This episode is positively riddled with wonderful character moments and nods to the canon, but at its heart is, of course, the relationship between Sherlock and John, and a showcase for the chemistry between Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. Before touching on a few of those moments, here are the paragraphs I wrote TWO FRIGGIN' YEARS AGO and then, apparently, promptly lost in my drafts folder:

I have a feeling the answer is hidden in plain sight, but because we have all been watching the characters and action unfold on-screen we're missing some subtle clue(s). I'm convinced Molly has something to do with helping Sherlock pull it off. I read an interesting theory that possibly John was drugged by the substance used in the Baskerville episode...which is fascinating to me because going on what we see, we see Sherlock with his head bashed in -- but that is from John's point of view...and shock/drugs/getting hit by that bike...all contributing factors to his rattled state.

I sort of feel like Sherlock's tears might have -- at least in part -- been a genuine emotional reaction to the moment. Because I think whatever he planned, however he pulled it off, he KNEW what it was going to do to his best friend, he KNEW he had no choice but to willingly crush him emotionally. Very interesting how Moffat and Gatiss are overseeing the growth of Sherlock's character. He is very much the Sherlock of the canon but there are moments of powerful growth that they insert in the series, that I think mean a great deal because we know Sherlock isn't "wired" to connect/be emotionally vulnerable. He's not becoming someone he isn't, or was never meant to be...they are just testing him in some really interesting ways. At least I think so. :)

I think it is possible Sherlock and Mycroft are in on the whole thing -- during the "dead" time between "Fall" and "Empty House," Mycroft financially supports Sherlock in hiding...will be interesting to see if that is brought into the next series! I love how this series explores this testy, emotionally frought relationship between the brothers...just because Mycroft is more "socially adept" than Sherlock doesn't mean he is any less messed up. :P There's a bigger game afoot, at least that's how I saw it.

***

Was that worth waiting two years to click "publish"? Nevermind, don't answer that. *wink*

The episode opens with John visiting his psychiatrist for the first time in over a year, heartbroken over his best friend's death. I KNEW that was coming, and still, after all this time, that opening gives me chills. Flashback three months, and we see Sherlock riding on high on a string of fabulously publicized successes, his crowning jewel the recovery of a J.M.W. Turner painting of Reichenbach Falls (I LOVED that, immediately reminded me of the atmosphere of the original stories as well as my beloved Jeremy Brett series).

Meanwhile Moriarty (Andrew Scott) pays a visit to the Tower of London, breaking into the case containing the Crown Jewels (after writing "Get Sherlock" on the glass), while simultaneously unleashing codes from his phone that open the vault at the Bank of England and unlock all of the cells at Pentonville Prison.. This is a brilliantly filmed sequence to the soundtrack of Rossini's "La gazza ladra" ("The Thieving Magpie"), a wonderfully appropriate metaphor for the Moriarty of this series, here highly suggestive to my mind of the manner in which he picks away at the threads of Sherlock's reputation in this installment.

Moriarty is arrested and Sherlock is called to testify, sure of the outcome, never dreaming, perhaps, that it was Moriarty's plan all along to participate in a highly publicized trial only to be acquitted. This highly public black mark against Sherlock in the public eye is but the first step in the madman's plan to see his rival utterly destroyed, to see the "angel" the public has embraced shredded, utterly destroyed.

The primary canon source for this episode is obviously Doyle's "The Final Problem." I've always thought it was rather interesting that Doyle scripted Sherlock's death here, tired of writing for his most famous creation, determined to have him exit in a spectacular fashion -- little counting on the public pressure that would insist on Holmes's resurrection ten years later in "The Adventure of the Empty House." Doyle's rather fraught relationship with the cult of celebrity that erupted around Sherlock is, I think, mirrored after a fashion in this episode -- public adoration made Sherlock here, and can just as easily destroy him as Moriarty so methodically intends to prove.

Through the ensuing storm of accusations and doubt, John (of course) remains faithful to his friend -- what breaks my heart here is seeing the impact of Sherlock's very public fall from grace on Lestrade (Rupert Graves). THAT killed me (just ONE of the times something came very near that in this episode) -- closely followed by the revelation that Mycroft (Mark Gatiss) was responsible for the leak of personal information regarding HIS BROTHER during earlier interrogations of Moriarty. That fatalistic acceptance of that -- well, is there any other word for it than betrayal, however unintentional? -- is brilliantly played. The Holmes brotherly relationship in this series is so fraught with tension, so utterly heartbreaking.

This series' crowning moment is Sherlock and Moriarty's final face-off on the roof of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, where Moriarty reveals the true depth of his obsession with destroying his rival -- he commits suicide, leaving Sherlock to pay the price of his friends' lives -- John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade -- with his own. Only with his death will they be spared an assassin's bullet. And so he makes a final call, determinedly attempting to destroy John's childlike faith in him by admitting that he's a fake, that everything they've experienced together, the entire basis of their friendship, is a lie.

But of course John knows his friend. And the final scene of this episode leaves me every bit as gutted as Martin Freeman is on-screen. The utter devastation with which he imbues John's final words over Sherlock's grave -- while Sherlock looks on from the shadows -- is gut-wrenching, an unforgettable image of loss and steadfast faith that has been the defining image of this incarnation of the classic friendship for far too long.

Sherlock returns this Sunday on Masterpiece. I am looking forward to seeing how he survived the fall, of course, but the mechanics are at this juncture just that -- mechanics. What I really can't wait to revel in is the return of Sherlock and Watson to my television screen and the unforgettable dynamic brought to their unorthodox friendship by Cumberbatch and Freeman's performances. Everything else is just icing on the cake. :)

*Image copyright BBC/Masterpiece. No copyright infringement intended.

Sherlock: The Hounds of Baskerville

The middle installment of this all-too-short second series of Sherlock on Masterpiece Mystery saw the twenty-first century incarnation of the world's foremost consulting detective tackle a reimagining of arguably his most famous case -- The Hound of the Baskervilles. Originally published in serial form from 1901-1902, Doyle's original tale is a dark and twisty story of family secrets and murder, the latter inspired by a local legend of a fearsome, other-worldly hound roaming the moors. I must admit I was quite curious as to how Sherlock would adapt this fantastical tale to its 21st-century setting and audience. Anchored by a strong script from the pen of the show's Mycroft, a.k.a. Mark Gatiss, I was not disappointed -- as only this series can, Gattiss' script manages to retain the essence of the original story while at the same time transforming it into a unique and fresh spin for this series' purposes.

To begin our analysis of this episode, here's the summary from the PBS website:

Boredom has set in at 221 Baker Street, with Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch, The Last Enemy, War Horse, The Hobbit) jonesing for a meaty case and — in its absence — a cigarette. Only the arrival of Henry Knight (Russell Tovey, Little Dorrit), terrorized and desperately clinging to sanity, piques the consulting detective's interest. A gigantic hound — part tourist attraction, part conspiracy theory, part demonic moor stalker — is legend around Baskerville, a top-secret military compound where, it's rumored, chemical and biological weapons experiments are conducted on genetically engineered animals. And Henry Knight has just seen the hound's footprints in the very location where it killed his father decades before. Sherlock gleefully sets off to track the demonic hound with John (Martin Freeman, The Office UK, The Hobbit) at his side and Mycroft's access-granting government ID on hand to enter the high-security corridors of Baskerville. But he may have opened doors to a realm where deduction and reason have no place. Written by Sherlock series co-creator Mark Gatiss (Doctor Who), The Hounds of Baskerville offers thrills, chills, laughs, and an unsettling, unprecedented facet of our hero's clinically controlled mind. (One episode; 90 minutes, TV-PG)

The episode opens with images of a terrified young boy crashing through the woods, desperately trying to escape the something (or someone?) viciously attacking his father on the moors. Now a young man, Henry Knight has returned to the scene of his worst nightmare twenty years later at the urging of this therapist, hoping to put his demons to rest -- only to discover he's standing on ground covered with giant, hound-like footprints. Henry is played by Russell Tovey, who I first fell in love with as the lovelorn John Chivery in the 2008 miniseries adaptation of Little Dorrit. Look at his ears, isn't he adorable? *wink* Also, how deliciously ironic is it that Tovey makes his Sherlock debut in an episode centered on a legendary, fearsome hound, when he played a werewolf in Being Human? At any rate, Tovey's character Henry retains the same first name and status as sole male heir of his family, only with significantly more baggage than his counterpart in Doyle's novel. I thought it was an extremely nice touch to change Henry's last name from Baskerville to Knight, a nod to the original character's status as a peer.

At 221B Baker St., Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch) is in desperate need of a challenging case or, barring the appearance of the former, a nicotine fix. I ADORED Sherlock's entry, blood-covered and brandishing a harpoon (a nod to the short story "The Adventure of Black Peter"), completely clueless as to how crazy he must've appeared to everyone he encountered. :) This sequence between Sherlock and John (Martin Freeman) puts the focus squarely on the heart of the series -- the wonderfully odd and unexpected friendship that has developed between Sherlock and John. Freeman is just brilliant here, so matter-of-fact because by this point he knows better than to be surprised by anything Sherlock does. And it reminds viewers of Sherlock's penchant for falling back into drug usage (in this case, cigarettes) when no suitable case presents itself with which he can exercise his incredible intellect. Sherlock's manic desire for cigarettes, even going so far as to suggest something "seven percent stronger" when offered tea (a nod to the canonical Holmes' cocaine habit, mentioned in The Sign of Four), is vintage Holmes -- manic, energetic, self-absorbed by the desire for something, anything, "worthy" of his time. The banter between John and Sherlock in this scene is a prime example of just how perfectly suited each actor is to his respective role -- and to a lesser extent I must include Mrs. Hudson (Una Stubbs), as her never-failing cheeriness in the face of Sherlock's "eccentricities" is a mark of just how much these three oddly-matched individuals have become a family of sorts.

Thankfully for John's patience (ha!), Henry arrives at Baker St. seeking Sherlock's help for explaining what happened to his father all those years earlier, and what, exactly, haunts the moors and his dreams to this day. Tovey is just brilliant as Henry -- edgy, haunted, his every word and action is weighted with survivor's guilt and torment. Sherlock's initial interview with Henry is in every respect a vintage "client scene," one of those moments that occur so frequently in the canon where Sherlock makes a series of amazing and spot-on deductions simply by looking at someone. We've been given this to some extent in previous episodes of the series via the text-message style pop-ups that appear on-screen when Sherlock first meets someone -- however, this time Gatiss gives viewers the joy of watching a maniacally intense Sherlock wow one of the lesser mortals he so frequently has the burden of dealing with, as he lays out, piece-by-piece, Henry's journey to Baker St. (Also, how funny was it watching Sherlock insist that Henry smoke, just so he could get all up in his personal space and inhale second-hand?)

Much to Henry's chagrin, Sherlock is at first uninterested in the case until he is struck by Henry's repeated use of the old-fashioned word "hound" to describe the monstrous beast he saw on the moors. No longer the ancestral home of the novel, Baskerville is now a top-secret military testing facility. Henry's father had been one of the "conspiracy theorists" sure the base was involved in animal testing and the like, developing super-beasts which would of course explain his childhood memories surrounding his father's death. Sufficiently hooked, Sherlock at first promises to only send John to Dartmoor -- a nod to the original novel wherein Sherlock is mostly absent for the first half, Watson sending reports to him, unaware that his friend is observing all, hidden away in an isolated house on the moors. Thankfully for Sherlock, Gatiss and Moffat opted to make Sherlock and John more equal partners in this investigation, giving the ultimate rationalist a chance to confront the seemingly impossible.

I loved the scenes of Sherlock and John driving across the moors -- the bleak beauty of the scenery is the perfect moody, atmospheric setting for a tale of an impossible monster. When they arrive at the nearby village inn (a vegan establishment, significance forth-coming), they discover the the legend of the hound has created something of a cottage industry with tours to areas where there have been alleged sightings. One of the innkeepers is a cheery Little John -- I mean some guy named Gary played by Gordon Kennedy, a.k.a. Little John, which just got me to thinking why oh why did Robin Hood have to end the way it did? *sigh* Despite the claims of a local tour guide, Sherlock remains unconvinced that the local legend is real, and after John swipes a suspicious receipt for a large meat delivery from the vegan pub, the two proceed to the Baskerville testing facility.

In one of the episode's most brilliant comic touches, Sherlock impersonates his brother Mycroft (Mark Gatiss), using a stolen ID card to gain access for John and himself to the top-secret facility -- buying them an estimated twenty minutes, give or take, before the ruse is discovered. I love how John voices a token objection before going along with the plan (of course), even going so far as to "pull rank" when questioned by the officer who greets them, freaking out over the unheard of "surprise inspection." It's a nice reminder of John's military days, a past that seems to have been more frequently mentioned in the stories than it's been given play in this set of films. During their highly illegal tour they meet Dr. Frankland (Clive Mantle), who is WAY too nice for his own good, and Dr. Stapleton (Amelia Bullmore), a highly secretive woman who seems to relish her animal experiements. Now, I was probably biased here, but Bullmore's appearance immediately set me on alert -- not only does her character share the name of the novel's villain, but Bullmore had the distinction of appearing in one of my favorite Inspector Lewis episodes from last season -- the deliciously twisty Wild Justice. Incidentally, I loved how Stapleton's work reminded Sherlock of a query he received through his website -- where a child wrote wanting to know how her pet rabbit disappeared from its locked cage. It's a nice touch that reminds one there's rarely a throwaway reference in these scripts, so tightly do Moffat and Gatiss strive to present their incarnation of Sherlock and his powers.

As predicted, the facility quickly realizes they've experienced a major security breach -- and Mycroft's reaction in London is appropriately, hilariously, droll. The commander of Baskerville, Major Barrymore (Simon Paisley Day), is enraged until Dr. Frankland unexpectedly steps in and vouches for Sherlock and John's story -- allegedly because he's a fan and as a friend of Henry's father, is eager to help the son. Barrymore is a throwback to the novel, as that was the name of the butler -- and as such it is a nice touch to see Baskerville's modern "gatekeeper" share the name of its literary counterpart.

Meanwhile, following an intense session with his therapist Louise Mortimer (Sasha Behar), Henry has remembered two words -- "Liberty" and "In," though he has no idea how they are connected to his father's death. Dr. Mortimer is a nice connection between the novel and this adaptation, as in the novel Mortimer is the family practitioner responsible for bringing the Baskerville family to Holmes's attention, and a sort of self-appointed guardian to the family heir. (Side note: how hilarious is John's reaction to Henry's apparent wealth -- and why can't I live in that house?!) That evening the the three of them make their way to Dewar's Hollow, the site of Knight Sr. death. John gets separated from Sherlock and Henry, and while on his own he notices a series of flashing lights, apparently Morse code, but the letters being transmitted make no sense. (I LOVE how Sherlock has "inspired" John to observe and consider everything as a potential clue!) This "code" is later revealed to be shaking car lights from couples hooking up at a popular romantic spot -- it is a hilarious and cheeky twist on the situation John discovers regarding Barrymore's brother-in-law in the novel, where signal lights are used to get the escaped prisoner supplies. When he hears an unearthly howl he immediately runs toward Sherlock and Henry, just missing the fact that they've seen it, the monster of Henry's dreams, and a sight that has left the unflappable Sherlock shaken to the core.

This is a fascinating deviation from the canon, in that Moffat and Gatiss have chosen to place Sherlock right in the midst of arguably supernatural occurances, forcing him to confront the seemingly impossible with his oh-so-rational mind. This leads to an extraordinarily painful (but brilliantly played) scene between John and Sherlock at the pub. Sherlock is so rattled, so uncharacteristically upset, he rages at John's every attempt to calm him and dismiss what he saw (though he cannot, because being Sherlock he must explain it). It was a well-constructed moment in which to play one of Sherlock's most famous quotes -- "Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true" (a variation of which appears in several stories, including The Sign of Four). Watson's rejoinder to this bit of philosophizing to is to call Sherlock "Spock," which is just brilliant since Cumberbatch has a role in the upcoming Star Trek film. But I digress. In response to John's concern Sherlock then lets rip the killer line that he has no friends -- and wounded (enraged?) John leaves Sherlock to stew.

This is such a pivotal scene in the development of the Sherlock/John friendship over the course of this series. Does John put up with Sherlock in order to avoid dealing with his own issues? Perhaps, to some degree. But I keep coming back to the moment at the end of "A Study in Pink," when Mycroft muses that knowing John could be the "making" of his younger brother. And this is why I think Freeman's portrayal of John is so achingly brilliant. He's every bit the steadfast friend Watson is in the canon, willing -- happy, even (most of the time, ha!) -- to stay in the shadows while Sherlock hogs the spotlight with his brilliant deductions and his quick wit. But he feels deeply about this friendship in a way that Doyle, I think, only touched on in the stories. No matter how Sherlock may (most of the time, unintentionally) wound him, John seems to know he doesn't mean it, or rather can't help it -- and to realize that while he may never say it, Sherlock needs him as much as he needs Sherlock. These two wounded, messed-up people really are the making of each other -- and the way they complement each other, the depth of that friendship is the heart and soul of the show -- at least for me. :)

The following morning Sherlock is on a roll thanks to the revelation that "hound" is not necessarily a thing but perhaps an acronym. I loved watching him try to apologize to John for his rudeness the night before, because just saying "sorry" would be way too easy (he even makes COFFEE!). His admission that he doesn't have friends, he just has one -- oh, that was brilliant and Cumberbatch's delivery just broke my heart into a thousand pieces. This was of course followed by unbridled hilarity when Sherlock shoots himself in the foot going on about John being a "conductor of light," not a genius but inspiring genius in those like himself. *wink* Oh, Sherlock. The breach temporarily repaired they discover the arrival of Lestrade (Rupert Graves), sent down by Mycroft to keep an eye on Sherlock, but really just ridiculously happy to be there. I love Rupert. :) And the whole thing about Sherlock not knowing Lestrade's first name was Greg? HILARIOUS. The three of them really have this sort of deliciously dysfunctional "three musketeers" vibe going on. John takes advantage of Lestrade's presence to clear up the matter of the vegan pub's meat order. In another nod to the novel, the pub owners had been keeping a dog which they loosed on the moors to feed the legend, similar to how Stapleton in the novel used his own monster of a dog to feed the legend and frighten Sir Henry's predecessor to death. The pub owners claim to have put the dog to sleep for its out-of-control behavior, but Sherlock doesn't buy their explanation, because he definitely saw something, something that can be explained loose on the moors.

After convincing Mycroft he needs access to Baskerville's facility, Sherlock and John return, and John strikes out on his own to investigate labs for signs of animal testing while Sherlock (allegedly) meets with Major Barrymore. John finds himself locked in an abandoned lab, where he hears a growling and gradually becomes increasingly terrified (loved how valiantly John fought the fear impulse, one has to credit his military discipline), to the point that he locks himself in an empty cage until Sherlock arrives to free him. He tells Sherlock he's seen the hound, but Sherlock attempts to calm him by assuring him that they've all been drugged with something that mainifest their fears, i.e. what they've been conditioned to see/expect. It's a nice role-reversal from earlier. And oh, while my rational side "knew" Sherlock "had" to use John as a test subject, given their recent fight, oh how I hated it -- but at least Sherlock gives us the sense during the reveal at the end of the episode that he realized most people would take being made secret test subjects emotionally.

Sherlock then bans all from his presence so he can "go to his mind palace," a mental-mapping memory technique that allows him to sift through everything he knows regarding Henry's key words "Liberty" and "In." Cumberbatch was just brilliant in this sequence. It not only showcases his masterful grasp of the character, but it is a wonderful visual showcase for the series' colorful and visual filming techniques used to bring Sherlock's thought processes to life. This scene results in Sherlock realizing that Henry's key words refer not to things, but to a place -- Liberty, Indiana. He then utilizes Dr. Stapleton's computer access to research the location -- failing that, they go to a higher clearance level -- Barrymore's -- after Sherlock deduces the Major's password. Liberty, IN was the location of the H.O.U.N.D. project, a CIA chemical weapons experiment with a goal of developing an aerosol that would defeat the enemy by disorienting the fear stimulus center of one's brain, triggering violent, over-powering hallucinations. The project was shuttered after the test subjects were driven mad -- but clearly one of the founding scientific minds behind the technology hasn't given up on it -- as identified by Stapleton, the over-eager Dr. Frankland, with his penchant for Americanisms like "cell" instead of "mobile" is the culprit. (Interesting that a female Stapleton is once again key to solving the crime!)

The hound-through-hallucinogenic-gas is just a brilliant method, I think, of updating the original storyline. It retains so much of the story beats and flavor of the original while at the same time becoming something wholly unique to this series' incarnation and vision of Sherlock & Watson. The Holmes of the canon encountered the effects of hallucinogenic gas in the story "The Adventure of the Devil's Foot," which became to my mind one of the creepiest and most memorable episodes of the classic Jeremy Brett television series.

The episode reaches its climax when Dr. Mortimer calls John, frantic over nearly being shot by an out-of-control Henry. He, Sherlock, and Lestrade arrive at the hollow just in time to prevent a hysterical Henry from committing suicide. Now -- I love this conclusion, I adore how it plays out -- but given the limitations of the ninety-minute format, it feels just a tick too convenient, too rushed to be quite perfect. But all told that's a small qualm when one considers the overall quality of the episode. :) Sherlock manages to talk Henry out of suicide, explaining that Dr. Frankland was responsible for his father's death and strove to discredit Henry by driving him slowly insane with the hallucinogenic gas (dosing him up via the pressure-release pads in the hollow every time he visited). Just as Henry seems to calm down, a fearsome hound appears -- a wonderful moment for fans of the original novel. With the gas dosing everyone in the area, the dog looks every bit the monster Doyle created. The dog's appearance is followed by Frankland in a gas mask -- and I loved the touch of Sherlock ripping off the mask, only to reveal the face of Moriarty, not Frankland -- a telling moment for what keeps the great detective up at night, no?

Once Lestrade shoots the dog, it is revealed as completely ordinary -- and Henry is given the mental reprieve to process Frankland's betrayal. It's a painful but rewarding payoff for Henry, as his faith in his father is rewarded -- brilliantly and heart-rendingly played by Tovey. I thought it was an extremely nice touch to have Frankland run off onto the moors, stumbling into the Baskerville minefield -- and meeting his end in much the same way his novel counterpart did (though slightly more *ahem* explosively).

So all's well that end's well outside of Baskerville -- and while I treasure those little moments between Sherlock and John, I really feel the episode could've used a post-reveal scene with Henry, something to assure us that he's getting healthy and moving forward with his life, you know? Instead we cut to a prison, where Mycroft is overseeing the release of Moriarty (Andrew Scott) for a cell where he's covered the walls with graffiti of one word -- Sherlock. It's an ominous promise leading into the final Reichenbach-themed episode of this series.

"The Hounds of Baskerville" is really a brilliant episode, putting a unique update on the classic story, allowing us to see the ultimate rationalist confront and overcome fear -- which for Sherlock I think perhaps stems from a complete loss of control, the fear that logic would fail him. This is hands-down the eeriest, most atmospheric episode of the series to date (the moors never fail in that regard) -- in fact, if it was filmed in black and white I'd think it was  prime example of classic film noir thanks to its brilliant use of light and shadow to foster suspense. It's a fitting bridge looking towards Sherlock's next confrontation with Moriarty, the man this episode reveals to be Sherlock's greatest fear -- perhaps because Moriarity is his complete antithesis, chaos to Sherlock's order.

Sherlock: A Scandal in Belgravia

Masterpiece Mystery finally saw the long-awaited premiere of Sherlock’s second season this week, and oh was it worth the wait. This second slate of three episodes sees Sherlock tackle three of his most famous cases -- The Woman, The Hound, and The Fall. Show-runners Moffat and Gatiss begin the series with a Moffat-penned take on “A Scandal in Bohemia,” rechristened “A Scandal in Belgravia” for 21st-century set Sherlock’s purposes. While I loved this episode (in all seriousness, I think I'm pre-wired to love anything to do with this show), I say that with some reservations -- namely, the show's characterization of "The Woman."

To begin with, for context I thought I’d relate a bit of my history with Sherlock and the only woman who ever proved his mental match – the adventuress Irene Adler. When “Belgravia” aired in the UK, I was seeing much made in the blogosphere and news reviews of the show’s modernization of one of mystery literature’s most iconic characters. Moffat envisions a modern Adler as a dominatrix with an -- and this is critical in my view -- eager penchant for blackmail. While I can see some of the reasoning behind this decision – after all, a dominatrix would have unparalleled access and opportunity to collect the secrets of the rich and powerful – I’m not entirely pleased with the blatant sexualization of a character I’ve had very definite views about ever since I was first introduced to her. Moffat's job choice for Adler and her -- apparently amoral attitude towards blackmail plots -- adds an element of crassness to the character that is not only unfortunate in my view but potentially diminishes the extraordinary scenes Irene and Sherlock share, particularly in the second half of this episode.

If “adventuress” is Victorian code for “courtesan,” I suppose one could argue that dominatrix is a natural update of Adler’s profession – but for me when reading Doyle’s story Adler always epitomized grace and class. I’m sorry but Irene as a modern dominatrix = class? Not so much. There is also the issue of Irene’s motivations for acting as a blackmailer – in the short story, there is no indication that Adler made a widespread practice of dabbling in blackmail practices. The only case we’re presented with, involving the King of Bohemia, is for the Adler of the canon a matter of self-preservation, of security so she can marry her new husband without fear of reprisals. As such she would never associate with the likes of Moriarty, and it is highly troubling to me that in this latest presentation she apparently does so willingly. Moffat’s Adler seems to relish collecting incriminating material from her “clients,” and thinks nothing of attempting to topple governments or the innocents who would be harmed in the process, a radical departure from her origins.

While the issues that trouble me about Moffat’s re-imagination of Adler’s character are no small thing to overcome, there is much that “A Scandal in Belgravia” gets right – oft-times brilliantly so. And thanks to Lara Pulver’s finely-nuanced performance, particularly in the last half of the film, this Adler is unforgettable, in many respects the intellectual match I’ve long imagined Sherlock would require. Without further ado, let's dive into the episode, beginning with the episode summary from PBS:

How Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch, The Last Enemy, War Horse, The Hobbit) manages to survive snipers, explosives, and a poolside face-off with his insane arch-nemesis Moriarty — or end up in Buckingham Palace's inner chambers, clad only in a sheet — are just the initial tantalizing questions answered when Sherlock returns with its gripping second season opener, A Scandal in Belgravia. The central enigma concerns Irene Adler (Lara Pulver, True Blood), a beautiful entrepreneur whose special relationship with the rich, powerful and royal has allowed her to amass coveted information powerful enough to topple the government. A worthy match for the aloof detective, Adler masterfully maneuvers her many assets in a game that Sherlock is ill-prepared to fight: love. Two brilliant minds lock together, producing a heat that brings a blush to John's cheek and a potential change to a celibate, cerebral detective. But who will come out on top? Award-winning series co-creators and producers of Doctor Who Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss reunite favorites Dr. John Watson (Martin Freeman, The Office UK, The Hobbit) and Mrs. Hudson (Una Stubbs) in an all-new adventure. (One episode; 90 minutes, TV-PG)  

This episode picks up right where The Great Game left off (also known as one of the best and cruelest television cliffhangers of all time) -- with Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch) and John (Martin Freeman) in a poolside confrontation with Moriarty (Andrew Scott). Just when it seems as though Sherlock will have no choice but to shoot the discarded, explosives-laden vest, killing them all, Moriarty's phone rings to the tune of the BeeGee's "Staying Alive." Moriarty's attention is immediately wholly absorbed by the mysterious caller, one who apparently has something he wants so badly that he's willing to save his confrontation with Sherlock for another day. Waiting a year and a half for the cliffhanger to end because of a BeeGees song absolutely made me cheer -- the sheer, wonderful absurdity of it all is a distinctly Moffat touch.

Over the subsequent weeks several cases come Sherlock and Watson's way in quick succession, moments that allow the show to make several nods to the canon while showing us how the residents of 221B Baker St. have settled into their friendship and routine. Per Sherlock's norm, he only takes a case if it engages him intellectually -- my favorite is the case of the three geeks and their comics who are christened "The Geek Interpreter" ("The Greek Interpreter" in the original stories). Watson's blog, initially started as a stress outlet per his therapist's instructions, once languished for material -- but since becoming friends with Sherlock, he has no lack of material, much to his roommate's chagrin. John's chronicles of Sherlock's cases -- never failing to include his many, MANY quirks -- has given the pair celebrity status. I loved how Cumberbatch played Sherlock's seeming disdain for "John's scribblings," with always a glint in his eye, a posture that clues us in to the fact that he's invested in how he's portrayed and not above being the teeniest bit flattered by the attention. I love it. :) The filmmakers use this broad investigative montage to give those who love the original stories a sweetly satisfying moment, when in an attempt to elude the press Sherlock dons a deerstalker cap, a lovely nod to the Sidney Paget illustrations. Yes, I squealed. Loudly. :) And how much fun is it having Watson's blog counter stuck at 1895? (You can read the Vincent Starrett poem here.)

While investigating the case of a harried car driver and a mysterious (and very dead) hitchhiker, Sherlock is unceremoniously hauled off to Buckingham Palace wearing only a bedsheet, leaving John temporarily stranded "in the field" courtesy of an introduction from the indefatigable Lestrade (Rupert Graves). (Side note: How much fun was it to see Sherlock draw his conclusions via webcam?!) Sherlock's long-suffering brother Mycroft (Mark Gatiss) is, no surprise, responsible for the summons to the Palace. Gatiss's portrayal of Mycroft is, as ever, pitch-perfect and his interactions with on-screen brother Benedict are quite simply a joy to watch. Those moments where they needle each other -- oh it had me in stitches! A palace official explains (a nod to the short story "The Illustrious Client") to Sherlock and John that Irene Adler (Lara Pulver), a dominatrix who is known professionally as "The Woman," possesses incriminating photographs of a female member of the royal family. Sherlock isn't interested in the case until he learns that Irene isn't interested in money -- this is a power play, pure and simple.

The "endangered royalty" aspect of this episode is a nod to the original story, but the photographs in question end up having little bearing on the end game of this episode. The opportunity to blackmail a member of the royal family was merely a convenient means for Irene to ensure a meet with Sherlock. The set-up for this meeting is chock-full of nods to Doyle's original tale -- from the hilarious moment when Sherlock asks John to hit him ("I used to kill people for a living!" "You're a doctor!" "I had bad days!") in order to fake a beating, to the moment he impersonates a wounded clergyman (oh the irony!) to gain entry to Irene's house (with John serving as a concerned passerby). Irene, fully aware of the impending visit, opts to greet Sherlock wearing nothing but a pair of heels. While this does stymie Sherlock to some degree, since his default is collecting information about people by observing wear and tear on their clothing, for my part it is unnecessarily crass and exploitative. I'm sorry but I've always thought Irene was better than that.

The scenes at Irene's Belgravia residence provide an excellent showcase for this series' stylish and unique brand of filmmaking. I love how we see text messages or Sherlock's bullet point observations about someone's appearance pop up on-screen. And in a further attempt to immerse viewers into the workings of Sherlock's mind, we see the pair imaginatively "enter" the scene of the dead hitchhiker -- trippy camera work but I loved it, highly effective. But back to Sherlock's purpose in Irene's apartment -- while she claims she'll never give up her camera phone packed with incriminating evidence, Sherlock quickly deduces the location of her hiding place while John sets a fake "fire" alarm in an attempt to force Adler's hand -- both plot points nice nods to the original story. Unfortunately for Sherlock and John, their plan is interrupted by the arrival of American CIA agents, also after Adler's phone, who threaten to kill Watson if Sherlock doesn't crack her safe code. The interjection of American spies into the storyline plays into the Moffat-crafted secondary storyline regarding Irene's involvement with Moriarty -- I can only think Americans were thrown in the episode as a possible nod to Adler's original New Jersey antecedents? (Another nod to the canon is Sherlock's "Vatican cameos!" exclaimation as a warning when he opens Irene's safe and the rigged pistol inside fires, mentioned in the The Hound of the Baskervilles-- an interesting reference considering Hound is modernized in episode two of this series!)

First of all, how fantastic is the moment when Sherlock realizes his best friend is in mortal danger? Well played, Cumberbatch. Immediately moving out of canonical territory, Adler bests Sherlock by drugging him (an aid she most certainly did not require in the original story) and disappearing with her phone, a.k.a. her "life." Sherlock is understandably a bit rattled by the experience, in his drugged stupor witnessing Adler return his coat (which she'd borrowed earlier) and his phone, which she programs with her own personalized ringtone of a woman's erotic sigh. Mrs. Hudson's and John's responses to Sherlock's most -- *ahem* -- unusual text alert are HILARIOUS, as is Sherlock's ability to act as if the sound is completely normal and fitting with his personality. :P

Months pass and it is now Christmas at 221B, and can I just tell how badly I want to be invited to Sherlock and John's Christmas party? I was a bit bummed to discover that Sarah (Zoe Telford) didn't return as John's girlfriend. But given coroner Molly Hooper's (Loo Brealey) almost painful-to-watch crush on Sherlock, I decided I'm holding out hope that she and John will become an item at some point during the series. Speaking of Molly, I wanted to reach through the screen and smack Sherlock when he (once again) gets carried away with his observational prowess and humiliates her, only to discover that the gift that prompted his spiel was in fact for him. But Sherlock has made some extraordinary progress as evidenced by his apology (including a kiss on the cheek! EEPP!!!) -- a sweet moment that I have to credit as proof that his friendship with John has not been without impact.

During the party Sherlock receives a text from Irene, notifying him of a gift she's left him -- her precious phone. Sherlock immediately calls Mycroft (the latter's comment about "Christmas phone calls" cracked me up) to inform him that Irene will soon be found dead, since she's given up all of her precious leverage with the phone. I love how deeply this idea troubles Sherlock -- Cumberbatch's finely nuanced acting reveals a man wholly unaccustomed feeling this level of concern? -- regret? -- however one defines it, it's an extraordinarily poignant moment, compounded by the identification of Adler's mutilated corpse a short time later. This sends Sherlock into what I think can only be described as a depression where he seeks solace in his violin -- oh how I loved those scenes! Kudos to David Arnold and Michael Price for composing a gorgeous theme for Sherlock to play in Irene's memory.

In short order Watson receives a summons to a meet with who he assumes is Mycroft, but in reality turns out to be Irene, revealing she faked her own death and desperately needs her phone and leverage returned to her. This scene is a beautiful example of the depth of John and Sherlock's friendship. I was immediately reminded of Mycroft's obersvation at the end of "A Study in Pink," that he thought Watson could be the making of Sherlock -- and here we see the converse, just how much the maddening Sherlock has come to mean to John. He's seen just how devasted Sherlock's been over Irene's apparent death, begs her to let Sherlock know he's alive -- and the scene transforms into a delicate dance where two people who care very deeply about someone who has always seemed -- claimed? -- to be emotionally unavailable reveal just how much the enigmatic, frustrating Sherlock matters to them -- and in John's case, the lengths to which he'll go to protect his friend. I love that -- a fantastic scene capped by the glorious reveal that Sherlock has been listening to them the whole time.

What follows when Sherlock returns to his flat is one of my favorite scenes in the entire series to date -- when he discovers that Mrs. Hudson (Una Stubbs) has been taken hostage by the Americans after Adler's phone. I wasn't entirely sure about Mrs. Hudson's portrayal in series one -- I felt her importance to Sherlock and Watson was a bit minimized. But this episode changed everything. Sherlock's barely suppresed anger when he sees how Mrs. Hudons has been roughed up was so brilliantly played it left me giddy. Also, how awesome was it when he calls Lestrade, asking for his least irritating officer to be sent over (which of course turns out to be Lestrade), and then Sherlock promptly tosses the interloper out his window? And when Watson suggests that Mrs. Hudson convalesce with her sister, but Sherlock won't have Baker St. without her (we all know he wants to keep an eye on her himself, right?), and then she reveals that she had Adler's phone hidden the whole time??? AWESOME. This Mrs. Hudson has more game than I'd ever given her credit for and I love that.

Now that she's been "outed," if you will, Adler shows up at Baker St. determined to reclaim her phone, dropping the tantalizing clue that a document she photographed from a Ministry of Defense "client" contains extremely dangerous -- but coded -- intel (again, stealing just for kicks? urgh...). Sherlock quickly cracks the code, which turns out to be seat assignments on an upcoming flight. To  make a long story short, this flight (flight #007 -- loved the Bond reference) was a joint British/American operation to foil a terrorist plot by allowing it to happen to a plane full of corpses (a fake-out inspired by allegations regarding the WWII Coventry blitz). Irene "charmed" Sherlock into cracking the code, she alerted Moriarty, the government's plan was foiled, which leads to Irene presenting Mycroft with a laundry list of demands that must be met or she'll topple the government with the contents of her phone -- making all of this somehow Sherlock's fault for getting "involved" with "The Woman."

It's not that I mind an original story woven into Sherlock's modernization of classic tales -- but the execution of this plot point felt a bit messy to me. Perhaps this is an extension of shoe-horning an Adler/Moriarty working relationship into the script? Perhaps it is my bias against this shading of Adler as a villain by her association with Moriarty -- but whatever the case, upon initial viewing this aspect of the episode didn't work for me quite as well as I would've liked. I'll be very curious to see if any scenes were trimmed in the DVD release.

That said, I thought the moments where Irene is almost desperately taunting Sherlock over his lack of romantic and sexual experience was extraordinarily painful to watch but oh-so-well-played. There was the sense, to my mind at any rate, that the exchange was the pair's method of coping, of masking how each has been affected by knowing the other. They shouldn't have connected, perhaps, but they did, and how they fought the acknowledgement of that in front of Mycroft was a brilliant, wrenching bit of cinema. Any time, particularly in the second half of this episode, where Irene and Sherlock engaged intellectually, the sparks that flew during their sparring matches indeed brought to life the whole "brainy is the new sexy" quip. Sherlock's final victory -- revealing that he's fully aware of how he impacted Irene, cracking her phone's passcode ("I am SHERlocked") was a wonderfully powerful, painful moment, because it felt as though Sherlock was shutting down again, that the ways in which his friendship with Watson have revealed little glimpses of his humanity are in danger of vanishing.

But that is the brilliance of how this episode plays the Sherlock/Irene relationship -- they try, and are capable, of deeply wounding each other which is a by-product of just how much they actually mean to each other -- make sense? Some months later, Mycroft approaches John and asks him to lie about Irene's fate, telling Sherlock she entered the Witness Protection Program in the US when she was actually killed by terrorists in Karachi. I love the pair's moment of shared concern over Sherlock's emotional state, though goodness knows I prefer John's methods to Mycroft's. :P The moment when Sherlock asks John "please," so that he can keep Adler's phone broke my heart. But the final scene, where Sherlock re-reads her texts -- is it too much to say he treasures them? -- and then reminsces about how he in fact saved her -- oh that moment.

Anyone who has read this blog for any length of time must know that I am an unabashed romantic. And while much as been made of Sherlock's extreme intellect, and corresponding lack of a need for emotional connection, I love how this show has slowly revealed how Sherlock's friendship with John has helped change how he views others, the world, and his cases -- humanizing him by slight degrees. And I might as well confess -- I've always harbored the secret dream that if anyone could have a possible romantic connection with Sherlock, it would be a women of Irene Adler's mental faculties. While I'm not fully sold on Moffat's incarnation of Irene as the perfect modernization, by the end of the episode, thanks to Pulver's finely nuance performance, I confess she comes oh-so-close. She's a fierce, smart, yet vulnerable match for Sherlock, and the two succeed in making  a connection so powerful, so electric that perhaps it would be fair to say it freaks both of them out a bit. *wink*

So I think that's why the episode's ending works so well for me. Sherlock had to save Irene (the music, the moment -- oh what a romanticized rescue! ha!), but he also had to let her go (I would posit that is in at least some part due to her willing association with villainous types). I feel as though the episode ends with a sense of love and loss and ultimate contentment within Sherlock regarding where he's at -- because the moments the pair did connect, that's something he will always treasure. Brilliantly played, Benedict, very, very well-done.

I'm not entirely positive, but I think this is the longest blog post of all time (around these parts, at any rate). If you made it this far congratulations and my deepest thanks! :) I would love to hear your thoughts on Sherlock's return!

Sherlock: The Great Game

What do you get when a high-functioning sociopath meets a psychopath? Quite simply the most brilliant, gripping ninety minutes of television I’ve seen all year. Maybe ever. I’m still trying to decide. Masterpiece Mystery ended its 2010 season on an unbelievably high note with The Great Game, the final episode of Sherlock’s first season. You know, everything I’ve said about the first two episodes of Sherlock, about how much I absolutely fell head over heels for the show within the first five minutes of episode one, EVERYTHING pales in comparison with how brilliant The Great Game plays out. I absolutely adored every single second. Here’s the story summary from the PBS website:

Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch, The Last Enemy) is bored. And he's not just staring at the wall, he's shooting at it. London is quiet and peaceful, and for Holmes, that is nothing short of maddening. An explosion rocks Holmes and Dr. John Watson (Martin Freeman, The Office UK) out of their doldrums and into a series of deadly puzzles conceived by a brilliant bomber. It starts with a pair of shoes left in the center of an empty room — shoes connected to a case that caught Holmes's interest twenty years ago as a boy. Soon a blood-soaked car, a television star and a recovered classic painting figure into an ever-widening cat-and-mouse game. As fast as Holmes can deduce answers, more cryptic clues arrive from his intelligent and violent adversary. After many surreal twists and turns, the outcome of the game may be uncertain, but for once, Sherlock has found a worthy opponent. Sherlock is based on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes and is co-created by Doctor Who producers Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. (One episode; 90 minutes, TV-PG)

Massive spoiler-y discussion from this point on…

In keeping with this show’s tradition, The Great Game drew inspiration for its plot from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original Holmes stories. This time the scriptwriter (and the show’s Mycroft) Mark Gatiss incorporated elements of “The Bruce-Partington Plans” and “The Five Orange Pips.” Sherlock has never been about making a straight translation of Doyle’s Victorian-era detective into the modern age, and I love that – rather, they incorporate enough canonical elements and “Easter eggs” for fans of Doyle’s work that makes the show both a tribute and a fantastical reinvention of Holmes. And always, always dancing in the background, just out of view until now is Sherlock’s nemesis, the master criminal Moriarty.

But before I delve into a discussion of the more serious, gripping elements of The Great Game, I want to talk for a moment about the developing Sherlock/Watson dynamic and the show’s wonderful, intelligent, ever-present humor. When this episode opens, Sherlock is bored – and as anyone who’s a fan of the great detective knows, that is the one state of being that he absolutely cannot tolerate. So of course he shoots a smiley face in the living room wall – makes perfect sense, right? *grin* Watson has also begun to chronicle life with Sherlock on his blog – now that he has such an interesting roommate his life positively overflows with blog-worthy happenings. The little discussion Sherlock and Watson have about Watson’s humble efforts to chronicle Sherlock’s cases (the first being “A Study in Pink”) was HILARIOUS. Cumberbatch skates a fine line between letting us think that Sherlock is just the teensiest bit flattered by Watson’s blog (though he’d DIE before admitting it) and annoyed that Watson’s revealing his elementary school knowledge shortcomings to the world (especially to those “lesser minds” at the police department – Lestrade’s reaction is particularly memorable). As Watson and Sherlock spar back-and-forth, Sherlock actually starts sulking. Watching Cumberbatch actually pout, and curl up on the sofa in a fetal position (as if that was going to get to Watson) was priceless. Sherlock and Watson really are like an old married couple, aren’t they? Freeman and Cumberbatch’s on-screen buddy chemistry is priceless. With their casting the filmmakers really caught lightning in a bottle – they are the ideal duo.

Soon Sherlock has two seemingly unrelated cases thrown his way – Mycroft (Mark Gatiss) returns in all his snarky glory to recruit Sherlock to go to bat for queen & country and retrieve the Bruce-Partington missile plans. Sherlock’s not really interested in that case, especially when “something new” appears – a bomber blows up the building across from 221B, leaving a message addressed to Sherlock. It’s a phone, retrofitted to resemble the pink phone that was so critical in the Pink case, that this anonymous bomber uses to contact Sherlock with his sick, twisted “challenges.” Sherlock’s given a cryptic clue, and if he doesn’t solve the case in the prescribed amount of time, the clock will run out for an innocent victim who’s wired to explode. At first Sherlock relishes the challenges. This unknown adversary is the “something new” he’s been craving, an opponent worthy of figuratively crossing blades with the world’s only consulting detective.

And this is where things really get interesting for me. Sherlock is such a prickly character, almost inhuman with his focus on facts, that he can be incredibly off-putting (personally, his anti-social tendencies are just one of things I love about him, but that’s just me). Until Watson appears in his life, he’s really without a human sound-board or moral compass – Watson sees the humanity that Sherlock is too – cerebral, if you will, to deign to recognize. At first Sherlock’s unseen opponent follows a pattern and appears to be playing by a set of rules – so when Sherlock handily solves the first two cases, he gets a little cocky. When the third case, involving an elderly blind woman used as bait, doesn’t follow the script, lives are lost, and though he doesn’t come out and admit it, I felt like Cumberbatch lets this little glimmer, a crack of humanity show through Sherlock’s demeanor. He may be intolerably full of himself, but he isn’t so callous that he doesn’t care when innocents die.

I don’t think I’ve ever anticipated or relished the reveal and first confrontation between a villain and hero as much as I have looked forward to Sherlock and Moriarty meeting face-to-face. Actor Andrew Scott plays Moriarty, the world’s foremost consulting criminal. Scott is not an entirely unfamiliar face – he appeared in an episode of Band of Brothers as well as Foyle’s War, and fans of the Beatles will get to see him play Paul McCartney in Lennon Naked when that airs on Masterpiece Contemporary. Scott is without a doubt in my mind the scariest Moriarty I've ever seen on film. The man isn’t just a criminal mastermind, he’s an outright terrorist. And seriously, all that aside is there anything creepier than a bad guy with a ridiculous sing-song voice?! *shivers* Now, unfortunately I can’t remember where I read this – I think it was an interview with Mark Gatiss – but I seem to recall Gatiss addressing the show’s depiction of Moriarty. They wanted Sherlock’s nemesis to be truly evil, to really give Sherlock the chance to be heroic. I love that.

One might wonder if that implies plans to “humanize” Sherlock, to really change the essence of the character into perhaps a more "traditional" hero. After viewing The Great Game I would say no – that most definitely isn’t necessary and I don't think that will happen. The Sherlock that Cumberbatch brings so brilliantly to life can still be an accurate and faithful reflection of Doyle’s creation while perhaps also being a hero in the more epic sense of the term, in that his adversary is incalculably evil and is capable of extracting great personal loss from Sherlock’s life. As Mycroft comments at the end of A Study in Pink, Watson could be the making of Sherlock. I think we see the beginnings of that in The Great Game. Sherlock’s friendship with Watson has widened the scope of his understanding, tapped into his humanity, reminds him of the personal toll to the cases his mind takes such intellectual delight in (though I’m sure he’d rather DIE of boredom than admit any of this, LOL!). Moriarty is Sherlock’s equal in each and every way, an adversary worthy of the detective’s great powers, but because he’s so good at being evil, it will require Sherlock to up his game.

Freeman and Cumberbatch are fabulous in the confrontation scene at the pool. For a show that’s only been around for three episodes, their unspoken communication during the final scenes is superb. I have to say Sherlock and Watson are truly equal partners in this incarnation of their story – any weakness or lack in one is more than compensated for by a strength or insight found in the other, and vice-versa. I adore their friendship. When Watson first appears at the pool, and Sherlock sees the bomb strapped to his friend, there’s a beat, a flash where you realize that he never saw the confrontation taking this route (possibly he wonders for a split second if Watson is Moriarty?), possibly exacting this cost. But of course, Sherlock being Sherlock, he carries on, his equilibrium barely rattled. And when Watson heroically grabs Moriarty in an ultimately fruitless effort to save Sherlock, I cheered. They may fight and bicker and not understand each other’s point of view most of the time, but when it comes down to what really matters, they’re willing to sacrifice for each other.

Some random notes:

• Loved it when Mrs. Hudson (Una Stubbs) comforts Sherlock by assuring him that a “nice murder” will come along to shake him out of the doldrums – and then a few minutes later is taking him to task for shooting up her wall.

• LOVED that Sarah (Zoe Telford) is playing a bit hard to get with Watson. Making him sleep on the sofa was a nice touch. The two of them are really an adorable couple.

• Rupert Graves is simply brilliant as Lestrade. He’s weary and run ragged, but he recognizes Sherlock’s genius and value and is willing to make allowances for him (and to put up with a great deal of ribbing for doing so). The fact that he devours Watson’s blog posts – priceless! He needs to appear in every episode of series 2!

• So Sherlock’s legendary “Baker Street Irregulars” are a network of homeless informants? Interesting modern-day twist. Enjoyed seeing Jeany Spark appear very briefly as this “face” of this group in The Great Game.

• Regarding the “Golem” hitman who committed the fourth murder – the “Golem” angle rang a very faint bell in my mind, so I googled Golem and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle this morning. Apparently Doyle wrote a short story featuring the Golem legend, which you can read here. You can also read a bit about the Golem/Doyle connection here. Yet again another sign of how well Gatiss and Moffatt know and respect their source material.

• I totally called Jim, the hapless coroner’s boyfriend from IT, as being a Moriarty henchman, or the man himself. There was no WAY that scene was stuck in the script as just a throwaway example of Sherlock’s powers of observation and his tendency towards rudeness.

• The music for this series is spectacular! Composers David Arnold and Michael Price have simply outdone themselves! I desperately want a full soundtrack album, but since I can’t seem to find that one is available, this will have to do. You can download the theme here through Amazon.

• I thought it was absolutely hilarious when, after the case involving the reality TV star, Holmes gets hooked on reality TV. Freeman's delivery of the line "I knew it was a mistake to get you hooked on crap telly" was pitch-perfect and priceless!

The cliffhanger moment of this season was evil, diabolical, and mean, while simultaneously brilliant and ingenious. That, my friends, is a difficult feat to pull off. Normally I do NOT tolerate cliffhangers well, but this one is done so well, so brilliantly, that honestly there is a part of me that doesn’t mind waiting A WHOLE FREAKING YEAR for series two. Though Sherlock only gave us three episodes, they were unforgettable and brilliant and amazing and fulfilling, cliffhangers aside. Truly for me this was the television event of the year, and I’ll be savoring and pouring over these productions many times in the months to come, seeking any small, delightful detail or character insight that I may have missed.

• Check out Vic’s thoughts on The Great Game at Jane Austen’s World.
• Read my review of A Study in Pink.
• Read my review of The Blind Banker.

Now, on to some news about SEASON TWO!!! When I started contemplating season two after recovering somewhat from The Great Game, my first wish was that Irene Adler make an appearance. We just can't have a Sherlock as brilliant as Benedict Cumberbatch portrays him without bringing Irene into the picture. My mother and I also discussed what we thought might be the Reichenbach Falls moment in this series. In messing around on Google looking for photos for this post, I came across this link. Are you ready for three clues dropped by showrunner Steven Moffat for series two?

READY YET?!


Okay, if you insist:

1. Adler (YES!!!!)
2. Hound
3. Reichenbach

Yes, yes, YES!!!! Be still my heart...the wait till season two is gonna be even tougher... ;-)