Review: “Sherlock” Series 1, Ep 2: “The Blind Banker”

Rating: ☆ ☆ ☆ 1/2

As you may recall from an earlier post, I thought last week’s premiere episode of the BBC’s new series, “Sherlock,” was brilliance made manifest. So much so that I feared anything that followed would be outshone in comparison. My fear was indeed justified by this week’s “The Blind Banker,” though the episode was far from being dim.

Penned not by Steven Moffat (whom you might have worked out by now I esteem very highly as a writer) but rather by Stephen Thompson, this week’s mid-series episode takes our modernized Sherlock and his associate Dr. Watson into the heart of a Chinese smuggling ring. There are, like in last week’s episode, a string of what seem to be suicides, but Sherlock isn’t, as we’ve come to expect, satisfied with that conclusion. Though the manner in which the murders were executed seem impossible (the attacks look like something Spider-Man would pull off), Sherlock soon demystifies them for us using his oh-so-masterful power of deduction (itself rather superhuman): They’re dealing here with deadly circus performers who are part of a Chinese gang, out to retrieve an ancient trinket stolen from them. And it’s not just any trinket: It has a whopping market value of nine million pounds. In the end, the leader of the gang mistakes Watson for Sherlock (the way in which this mix-up is set up is done well, with the breadcrumbs so stealthily planted earlier on). At “stake” are the lives not only of Watson, but also his lady friend, who faces death by an escapology contraption presented earlier in the story. Sherlock of course saves the day the smuggling ring, but a larger evil force looms, as Moriarty’s menacing presence reappears in the last few minutes of the episode.

Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman continue to impress in their roles as Sherlock and Dr. Watson respectively, but here they plateau instead of sustaining a more upward momentum. (I have a vague sense of Freeman’s Watson being somewhat underused here). Perhaps it’s the sense that this is the in-between episode, a self-contained story that doesn’t necessarily move the story arc along. In fact, the elements of the episode themselves, though interesting, do feel like filler for the feature film length of the episode. The ciphers splattered throughout the episode as graffiti come across more as make-work.

I am perhaps though being a bit too harsh and dismissive. Thompson’s is better than your average script. It’s just that it’s not as electrifying or refreshingly dynamic as “A Study in Pink.” It’s a more mundane script, very evidently crafted by another’s hand. (I really do wish one writer would write all episodes for a series, as inconsistency in tone is just so annoying; but that’s neither here nor there). I wasn’t in love with this episode, but that doesn’t mean I’ve fallen out of love with the series. Here’s looking to the series closer next week, written by Mark Gatiss.

Review: “Sherlock” Series 1, Ep 1: “A Study in Pink”

Rating: ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

I’ve never cared much for Sherlock Holmes, nor crime fiction in general for that matter, but the Beeb’s new three-part series, “Sherlock,” has planted in me a newborn interest that’s set me to madly googling Arthur Conan Doyle’s master of deduction as a bit of catch-up. Co-creators Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss seem to have a summer hit in their hands with their fresh and inspired take on the Sherlock Holmes story. And by the looks of the Moff-penned first episode, there’s much to justify the ratings: The show is funny, smart, and absolutely entertaining.

Welcome to our gaff. The bromantic partners in front of their Baker Street flat.

It’s modern-day London, and “consulting detective” Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch) and former army doctor John Watson (Martin Freeman) become unlikely flatmates. Together they solve a string of suicide-like murders perpetrated by the most unlikely of murderers, a cabbie. Along the way, they get nonchalantly mistaken for lovers, do a bit of very exciting but dead-end-leading chasing, and clear up confusions about arch-nemeses. (We find out in a funny twist at the end that a sinister-looking fella who claims to be Sherlock’s arch-enemy is in fact his government muckety-muck brother, Mycroft).  There’s so much more I can’t even begin to detail here with justice, which is a testament to just how rich Moffat’s script is. (In other words: Just go watch the damn thing!).

Cumberbatch fits snugly into the role of the nicotine-patched, possibly gay, high-functioning sociopath detective with a penchant for texting. His deep-voiced Sherlock is distant yet somewhat adorable. There’s a darkness about Sherlock (he gets a kick out of complex crimes, and he exhibits a bit of inhumane cruelty when he tortures the dying cabbie into spilling the beans), the tone of which Cumberbatch gets just right. But there isn’t so much of that darkness so as to put the audience off. As Moffat describes it, Cumberbatch exudes an “imperious” and “Byronic” quality. Freeman’s Watson is just the perfect straight man (pun intended) to Cumberbatch’s likeable sociopath. Being a war veteran, this Watson shares Sherlock’s attraction to trouble and danger, which is the most intriguing aspect of their bromantic relationship. They are so well-matched (even Freeman’s height in comparison to Cumberbatch’s feels just right). In the lead-up to the broadcast premiere, there was some uproar over the gaying up of Sherlock and Watson, which I found baffling (the uproar, that is). Sherlock’s and Watson’s is a quirky and entertaining dynamic to watch. Just as with his omnisexual Captain Jack Harkness in “Doctor Who,” Moffat defies expectations by amping up the camp here, cheekily relishing in Sherlock’s sexual ambiguity. (I bloody love the Moff).

The Moff is The Man.

Comparisons to “Doctor Who” are inevitable, given that Moffat is that show’s executive producer and head writer, and Gatiss has been involved in “Who” in both a writing and acting capacity since its rebirth in 2006. With that said, I won’t be the exception in making my own comparisons. (Here I go). Just like the Doctor, Sherlock is almost impossibly astute. They’re both prone to talking fast, even shushing distracting people to allow him to think properly. In a way this is great preparation for Cumberbatch for the role of the Doctor, which according to recent barmy rumors will be left up for grabs by a departing Matt Smith (yet another load of rubbish from that ever so respectable publication, “The Sun”). But unlike the Doctor, Sherlock is very much human, very much fallible: In one of the episode’s funniest scenes, Sherlock thinks he’s got the deal with Watson’s sibling Harry figured out, except he fails to realize that Harry–short for “Harriet”–is actually female. Just one tiny, oh so important detail. (A nice twist involving siblings, just like with the Mycroft revelation). The thought of Cumberbatch becoming a future regenerated version of the Doctor sets my heart a-flutter, but thinking realistically, I can see why Moffat paired which actor with which show. Cumberbatch doesn’t strike me as looking quite as kid-friendly as Smith, who comes across as an instantly likeable and very cool adult with the charm of a child about him. Apparently, Smith had auditioned for the role of Watson, which thankfully he did not receive, as seeing two tall lads, Cumberbatch and Smith, together just wouldn’t feel right.

I’ve already watched “A Study in Pink” twice; the second time with subtitles (Sherlock talks so bloody fast, I can’t make heads or tails of what he’s machinegunning!). Can’t wait for the upcoming two episodes, though I do worry that there will be a diminishment in quality, given that Moffat did not pen those scripts. Still, Moffat has set up in this introductory episode something just so engrossing that I find myself unable to not watch what’s to follow. Fantastic job, Moff.