It would appear that television and I are having a mild disagreement at present. I had abandoned the screen for quite a while last year. It bores me. That is not to say that good programming is inexistent, but it is a rarity. Plus. One has to be in the mood.
There was one particular show, however, that I hoped might resolve matters and make me fall in love with that dream-peddling box once again. Sherlock.
You will not believe how much will power it took not to write about it after viewing The Empty Hearse. It drained me of the little energy that the holidays had left behind.
Why did I say nothing on the 1st of January? Because I have been told to keep quiet unless I have something nice to say. So… I have been trying to think of something nice to say. All that kept cropping into my mind were John’s words on discovering that Sherlock was still alive: F*** off, Sherlock.
It was too itsy-bitsy, too disjointed, too… everything other than what I had come to expect of Sherlock. I watched Cumberbatch on the wide screen, asking myself: Who are you and what have you done to Sherlock? Can’t anyone see that this is an impostor? Seriously. Sherlock would not do that. Would not say that. His behaviour – while not entirely predictable – would continue to be that of a sociopath, surely. What was he up to in those last two years? Went to clown school in deepest darkest Siberia, did he?
I thought I’d give it some time to sink in. There were many a witty scene after all. I had no squabble with the detail as much as I did with the overall effect, which left me with the distinct impression that the writers were conversing with the fandom (look out for all those fun inside jokes) instead of getting on with the job of bringing back to life not just the character, but another segment of Arthur Conan Doyle’s work.
Yes. Of course the relationship between John and Sherlock matters. But what matters far more is their work. There was always a balance struck in the past, which was sadly off third time around.
So I waited… I waited for today and the second episode in the series. Better by far, but it could not erase that bitter taste left by the first. I am underwhelmed and don’t quite know what to do with myself.
It’s as if an old friend came back after a long absence, invited himself over for dinner and after several attempts to reconnect somehow, I finally realise that it’s all too late. Our paths have irremediably split. We have nothing to talk about. Too much has happened in the interim so we just make small talk about redecorating the living-room, wondering… is it too soon to cut our losses short and call it a day?
I blame the hype as well as the extended wait. Two years is a long time for a build up. Perhaps I expected too much and was bound to be disappointed.
vic briggs 