The BBC Is Such A Tease

When it was announced a television series would be revisiting history's greatest fictional detective, I was among the jaded viewers who sighed at the prevalent, incessant trend for recycling classic literary protagonists.

Eventually I took the time to climb down off my high horse/get off my soapbox, watch the pilot, and eat crow. A lot of crow.

Sherlock is a candidate for the television version of Mensa; easily one of the best of 2010's new blood. So, how many episodes does the BBC offer newly seduced fans? Twelve? Twenty-four? No, make that three.

Yes, television is an expensive industry. Yes, it is easier/less risky to commit to fewer weeks of production. Still, at some point, shouldn't the people involved in the decision-making process realise they're holding a diamond, not just a piece of coal? Isn't that technically (kind of) what they're paid for?

Why set up a series and have audience numbers engage successfully with the characters, only to say, yeah, so, that's it, see you lot in a year... maybe?

Unfortunately, this teasing approach to fresh programming is beginning to look like a worrying trend for the BBC. In 2009 we were exposed to a new series called Being Human. For some reason the BBC seemed surprised a show so completely on trend (a vampire, a ghost and a werewolf become flatmates) proved successful both domestically and internationally.

Being Human aired with a first season tally of six episodes, plus the pilot. In 2010, the second season outing was upped to eight episodes (gee whiz). The third season, screening in 2011, will also be eight episodes in length. Yes, three years into the show and avid fans are left with a grand tally of twenty two episodes, plus the pilot.

LAME, MUCH?

Unlike their pushy American counterparts, the other lot over the water don't seem to understand that managing (read milking) a popular series for all it's worth requires striking when the iron's hot ie, often at the peak of the program's initial popularity.

Sherlock was a shoo-in for success. Modernising a beloved classic. Odd couple procedural with a twist. Created by a respected author/playwright and Steven Moffat, the Scottish powerhouse behind the success of the new Doctor Who. Starring Martin Freedman as the sidekick Dr Watson, a popular ordinary man actor who, thanks to The Office, Shaun Of The Dead, The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy and Hot Fuzz, has more fans than you could swing a classic at.

As for the certain-to-be-beloved protagonist Sherlock... throw in a brilliant, intense-looking thespian, the kind England seems to have growing on hedges, and you're golden.*

(*Added to all of this would have been early dailies showing some of the most beautiful cinematography I've seen on television in a long while).

Sure, the Brits excel at gritty, or quirky onscreen material. However, Sherlock proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that they can create successful procedural television- ie glossy and intelligent, yet still popular contemporary viewing- even better than their American counterparts (oh, the scandal).

Aside from focusing on what I consider to be a marketing horror, ie the mismanagement of the project (yes, they say another 'season' will screen next year, but this is television! We're only three episodes in, I want more NOW), I should probably take a moment to explain some of the charm of the program.

Ironically, I have never been a fan of Sherlock Holmes. My dad gave me some of Arthur Conan Doyles books, which I dutifully read till I fell asleep, because detective novels, even such a grand classic as a Sherlock tale, never seemed to hold my attention.

He then had me sit through the black and white films from the late thirties/early forties (there's more than a dozen). Because I like old cinema, this increased my interest by, oh, let's say, about fifteen percent. However, considering that interest was sitting at around twenty percent to start with, that doesn't say much.

To be honest, I only watched the new Sherlock because it looked pretty. Um, that is, pretty interesting (!). Five minutes in, I was hooked, absolutely hooked. By the end of the first episode I was totally infatuated with the show. The second episode, while not as consistently sharp in the writing department, was incredibly beautiful to watch. The final episode was enthralling and had me definitely prepped and ready to enjoy the rest of the season... except, that was it.

The character of Sherlock is fabulously modern. Of course, I could be biased, he's everything I usually find sexy. Alternately manic-ly restless and brooding, mentally brilliant while also being socially and emotionally, shall we say, challenged? Plus, he wears a lot of relatively austere, well-cut black clothing.

YUM.

Dr Watson is fantastic as a vet recovering from duty in Afghanistan, seemingly mild-mannered, but suffering his own version of PTSD:

Mycroft: You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand. Your therapist thinks it's post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service.
Watson: Who the hell are you? How do you know that?
Mycroft: Fire her. She's got it the wrong way around. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You're not haunted by the war, Dr. Watson. You miss it.

Sherlock, Season 1, Episode 1.

This character quirk is also used to bring Sherlock and Watson together in a professional capacity:

Holmes: You're a doctor. In fact, you're an army doctor.

Watson: Yes.

Holmes: Any good?

Watson: Very good.

Holmes: Seen a lot of injury, then? Violent deaths?

Watson: Hm, yes.

Holmes: Bit of trouble too, I bet?

Watson: Of course. Yes, enough for a lifetime. Far too much.

Holmes: Want to see some more?

Watson: Oh god yes.

Sherlock, Season 1 Episode 1.

At the crux of the partnership is Watson's inherent respect for Holmes' talent:

Watson: That was amazing.

Holmes: Do you think so?

Watson: Of course. It was extraordinary. It was quite- extraordinary.

Holmes: That's not what people normally say.

Watson: And what do people normally say?

Homes: Piss off.

Sherlock, Season 1, Episode 1.

Now and again, the mood is particularly British, droll and clever, full of subtle emotional innuendo rather than overdone dramatic expression.

Some of the crimes (ie puzzles) were easy to solve in a general sense, only because of the time constraints of the episode, not because I'm especially clever.

For example, the crimes in the pilot episode, a series of supposed suicides, include a scene between two bit parters pointing out they'd taken the drunk victim's car keys... then another victim returning from the airport is told to get a taxi by his lover.... am I the only person for whom this screamed CABBIE?

Likewise, in the final episode, the dead security guard's housemate mentions he had no interest in art, but liked to look at the stars through his telescope... then there's a call that takes Holmes and Watson to the planetarium... and all of this is because of a painting that's obviously fake, so I guess the glaringly obvious link would be STARS. And would you look at that. There's a night sky in the painting.

In summary, episode one is the standout effort. It's extremely well crafted. Episode two is the weakest link (keep in mind, that's grading on a curve). In episode two, the character to suffer most from the weaker narrative effort would be Watson. He was much more complex in the pilot. Luckily, he recaptures that depth, and more, in episode three.

To be fair, episode two does have the best "his powers of deduction are bedazzling" scene. Sherlock points out why the dead man in the bedroom was left-handed, based on a number of minutae no ordinary person would even have registered. GO SHERLOCK.

Sherlock, at one point, describes himself as a high functioning sociopath. I think characters like Sargeant Sally Robinson, who don't like him, infer that he is void of empathy, but I don't believe this is correct, because he does seem to react intuitively to people in distress. He might miss nuances in general everyday life, but, for example, when Watson's love interest Sarah becomes hysterical after being kidnapped by Chinese smugglers, Holmes visibly responds to her distress with instinctive reassurance.

Standout supporting cast include Una Stubbs as the dotty landlady Mrs Hudson, Mark Gatiss as Sherlock's brother Mycroft, and Rupert Graves (always a fan) as the long-suffering Detective Inspector Lestrade.

Frankly, I could go on about Sherlock for hours. (Don't worry, I won't). Instead I'll let Lestrade have the last word as to why this character re-interpretation of the world's greatest consulting detective is arrogant, aggravating and terribly compelling:

Watson: So why do you put up with him?

Lestrade: Because I'm desperate, that's why. Because Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one.

Sherlock, Season 1, Episode 1.

One thing the BBC did do right, is release the dvd in time for Christmas. What a stocking filler!