Jim totally-not-imagining-that-in-another-context Moriarty (via missamelia-pond)

“Well, I never say anything, do I? According to you, I just show people up the stairs and serve you breakfast!” “Well, within the narrative, that is, broadly speaking, your function.”

I got up this morning and thought over my wants to write a quick review of everything Holmes that I do. On one hand, I see it as a way for me to keep track of my feelings for each thing, my thoughts at the time, what struck me, on the other I write these in hopes that someone sees them, watches or rewatches, or otherwise experiences the same content in a new light.

Most of the reviews I’ve seen for this episode already come across as more editorial. Of course I have always considers reviews to be editorial; there is in fact no way to be objective about art. I’ve studied Sherlock Holmes for just over a decade now, I’ve studied film for over five years, and neither of those points mean that I can say without a doubt an objective opinion of what hit our screens last night.

On the one hand, I think with Holmes it’s very important to be subjective; the stories have all touched us in different ways and we all experience our love for them differently. In addition to that, it is why we have so much Holmes floating around: we are subjective in our opinions in what we don’t like and what we do, and we decide what we can do with the detective, or do better.

Objectively though, and I vouch for objective words on Holmes more than I should, objectively would be to make statements about which Holmes is better, not which you prefer, which is the most like canon, which does this and that, so on and so forth. In studying Holmes, you objectively notice different trends, like where to place Holmes, what he looks like, which stories are better…the list goes on.

So this review I think, as should all others I do, focus on both parts of those feelings, and show where to be subjective and where to sit, as unbiased as I can be, in deciding how good an adaptation is (this is all relevant, I promise).

Just on the safe side, spoilers abound in the upcoming paragraphs, if you’re trying to avoid those, here is not the place for you.

Purely subjective, all opinion, this was a fantastic episode. I said last night that I rated it an 8/10, purely opinion wise because I feel how I would have done it would have been nicer. I think we all have those thoughts. But now for for more difficult thoughts.

The episode was very cleverly written. For some, I believe, it was overly clever. It was smart. It had nice twists. The way that Gatiss and Moffat managed to tie it in with the modern day was predictable, but, although sometimes a flaw of some stories (oh it was all a dream) this was not a flaw. It sticks out in my mind above all versions of a “he was dreaming the whole time twist” because this made sense. From the beginning we are given clues that it was all a dream. Throughout the whole episode we were told, blatantly, that this was only ever about Moriarty, not some Victorian ghost story, but a modern one. 

But there was a further twist upon that.

We were led to believe that this was all about solving the mystery of if Jim Moriarty was dead or not. But the real problem, the final problem?, was for Sherlock to finally kill the demon of Jim Moriarty that resided in his mind.

This had been lead up to since Moriarty’s appearance in The Great Game, how to get rid of Moriarty, the great problem of all Holmes adaptations.

What is great about Sherlock (opinions again) is that it doesn’t fall into the trap of making Moriarty the one villain. He’s a villain that matters and the one that shook Sherlock the most because he had the biggest hold on the people Sherlock cared about. So, rather than resurrect him 47 thousand times, such as Rathbone’s era did, the Sherlock writer’s merely cast his shadow around, even when he wasn’t present, arranged their plot points to show how Moriarty’s threats were still affecting Sherlock, even at the hiatus.

And now he was killed properly, yes properly, at the familiar scene of the Reichenbach. Order is restored to Sherlock’s mind, we as a viewer can move on with Sherlock. Onto where? A few viewers have ideas, but that’s for another post.

This episode, much like the series on the whole, was a risk, a huge risk, and, I think, a highly successful one. In a world full of adaptations, Sherlock has already gone above and beyond in setting itself apart. Focusing from Episode One and onwards on showing Sherlock and John’s growing partnership and relationship in full, instead of the common trap of case after case, dangerous story after story, or even immense plotline all focused around one villain. Sherlock has mysteries yes, and pretty damn good ones, but just like of Doyle, it’s not the mysteries people tend to remember. And in Sherlock, it’s very clear from episode one that that was never the point, or even the intention. The story is all for the drama, the relationship, and everything that comes along with it, cases or otherwise.

In setting the story of Sherlock’s mental journey to find how to navigate the modern world, and his relationship with John, Gatiss and Moffat created a brilliantly told story of a man in search of answers and seeking out his own truths. Of a man who had been desperate to be alone to spare himself loss, and is just now finding that he can fully trust those around him to help him be better, be a great man…or even a good one.

This episode is an important story and one that reads right now as the entire glue of the series. It fits just after season 3, like a puzzle piece, joining together acts of a play. It’s a vital intermission, and solves alot of mysteries for all those who understood it as such.

Of course it doesn’t hint at much more than a deepening of the friendship between Sherlock and John, but all the more to look forward to when we get more regular episodes.

Well done to the creators for once again continuing such a brilliantly constructed and emotional piece of tv. The best New Year’s gift they could have given us, and then some.

Ok does it bother anyone else that the Sherlock special was basically designed to show us how Moriarty could still be alive, and then in the same episode they say that he’s definitely dead?

I sense a disturbance in the force.

*waves back*

MYCROFT AND LESTRADE HAD FUCKIGN EYE CONTACT FOR LIKE 3 SECONDS ON SCREEN LIKE BLAST OFF WE HAVE CONTACT ACTUAL CONTACT 

Confirmation that Moriarty is a title, not a single person

Well it took me three watches to get here, please don’t judge me for it:

Moriarty is dead, but Sherlock knows exactly what he’s going to do next. Impossible? No, because he knows the next Moriarty has to do something.

He realizes this through the organization in 1895. Mrs. Ricoletti kills herself in front of a crowd of people and comes back. How?

Because Mrs. Ricoletti/The Abominable Bride is a title, not a single person. All of the women in the organization were able to carry out their revenge on the men who had wronged them by dressing up as her and using her name, despite the fact that she was, in fact, really dead. Absolutely dead. Never coming back dead. She blew out the back of her skull, and no one survives that.

So there it is: Moriarty is a title. An organization. But not a person.

A matter of Victorian hat etiquette for those of you not in the know.

In the morgue when Watson is talking to Hooper… he ‘doffs’ his hat when he ‘outs’ her. (taking the hat off the top of his head slightly in a salute).

Please bear in mind that this was ONLY done to ladies. Men nodded to other gentlemen, never doffing hats at all - it would have been considered an outrage!

“Between gentlemen, an inclination of the head, a gesture of the hand, or a mere touching of the hat is sufficient; but in bowing to a lady, the hat must be lifted from the head.” (x)

I grinned mightily in the cinema when I saw this :)

This scene was absolutely brilliant.

THIS IS ALL OF US.

Metaphors

As having been introduced in the show:

Series 1

Food = sex

Series 2

Phone = heart

Series 3

Elephant = secret

Special 

Gun = dick

Me after the Chrismas special Sherlock

@statsbritain and the abominable bride p2/2 (p1)

(x)

Note behind the chair in the 221B sitting room Watson’s unframed portrait of Henry Ward Beecher (photo source).  God, this show is so fucking spot on, it hurts.  Help me, angry ghost of Sir ACD, I have lost the ability to can.

Henry Ward Beecher was a hero of Watson’s, a social activist and women’s suffrage campaigner and the brother of Harriet Beecher Stowe, the author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin.  Pretty much the entire family was wildly radical for Americans during the latter half of the 19th century and they fought tirelessly against slavery in speeches and essays.  Social injustice for women and people of color did not fly with the Beecher Stowe clan.

Holmes remarks on Watson’s art in “The Resident Patient” during the famous sequence when he reads Watson’s mind:

“Do you mean to say that you read my train of thoughts from my features?”

“Your features, and especially your eyes. Perhaps you cannot yourself recall how your reverie commenced?”

“No, I cannot.”

“Then I will tell you. After throwing down your paper, which was the action which drew my attention to you, you sat for half a minute with a vacant expression. Then your eyes fixed themselves upon your newly framed picture of General Gordon, and I saw by the alteration in your face that a train of thought had been started. But it did not lead very far. Your eyes turned across to the unframed portrait of Henry Ward Beecher, which stands upon the top of your books. You then glanced up at the wall, and of course your meaning was obvious. You were thinking that if the portrait were framed it would just cover that bare space and correspond with Gordon’s picture over there.”

“You have followed me wonderfully!” I exclaimed.

“So far I could hardly have gone astray. But now your thoughts went back to Beecher, and you looked hard across as if you were studying the character in his features. Then your eyes ceased to pucker, but you continued to look across, and your face was thoughtful. You were recalling the incidents of Beecher’s career. I was well aware that you could not do this without thinking of the mission which he undertook on behalf of the North at the time of the Civil War, for I remember you expressing your passionate indignation at the way in which he was received by the more turbulent of our people. You felt so strongly about it that I knew you could not think of Beecher without thinking of that also. When a moment later I saw your eyes wander away from the picture, I suspected that your mind had now turned to the Civil War, and when I observed that your lips set, your eyes sparkled, and your hands clinched, I was positive that you were indeed thinking of the gallantry which was shown by both sides in that desperate struggle. But then, again, your face grew sadder; you shook your head. You were dwelling upon the sadness and horror and useless waste of life. Your hand stole towards your own old wound, and a smile quivered on your lips, which showed me that the ridiculous side of this method of settling international questions had forced itself upon your mind. At this point I agreed with you that it was preposterous, and was glad to find that all my deductions had been correct.” –The Resident Patient  

Redbeard was the other brother. At a young age, Sherlock was responsible for his death. This is the root of his trauma.

Okay, the first part of this is pretty widely accepted, or at least frequently discussed. The level of Sherlock’s dysfunction is way too severe to be triggered by the death of a childhood pet, no matter how attached Sherlock may have been.

But, a sibling. Specifically, a brother, for reasons that will soon be clear.

Let’s go back to the wedding, and the first mention of Redbeard.

“Don’t get involved,” Mycroft says. “Do you remember…Redbeard?”

“I’m not a child,” Sherlock snaps.

Whatever transpired with Redbeard and Sherlock happened at a very young age.

Then in HLV, several key exchanges take place.

When Sherlock is shot, he seeks refuge in his mind palace…specifically, looking for something to comfort him, in order to not go into shock. 

Mary blocks his path to John.

So he goes looking for…Redbeard. A stereotypical, picture-perfect red Irish setter. The thought of a dog, all love and loyalty and soft fur, comforts Sherlock in a time of great trauma. 

(“I know a mind palace,” says Mycroft in TAB. “I know what it can and cannot do.”–Paraphrased, sorry , I’m in a shitty Denny’s in Woodbridge VA and I’m exhausted. Remember this, it is important.)

Later in HLV, Mummy Holmes says, “If I find out who put a bullet in my boy, I shall turn monstrous.” 

And after Sherlock shoots Magnussen, he drops the gun and puts up his hands…and we see him, through Mycroft’s eyes, as a sobbing child of perhaps twelve.

“Oh, Sherlock,” he says. 

“What have you done?”

I humbly submit that this image of Sherlock as a child is telling us that this is somewhere that both of them have been before, emotionally. That what we see, through Mycroft’s eyes– his brother as a devastated, sobbing child– has happened before.

So what am I saying here?

I believe Sherlock caused his sibling’s death, almost certainly inadvertently, through some sort of accident or misadventure or cleverness gone terribly wrong. 

Mycroft is the only one who knows. 

Mycroft covered it up, somehow took responsibility for what happened. 

Their parents do not know, because if Mummy were to find out, she would turn monstrous against Sherlock. This is why “Mycroft has a file. I have a list.”

This tragedy, compounded with guilt and secrecy and lies. largely why such a (seemingly nice) family is so clearly estranged from their very messed up youngest son.

Importantly, Sherlock likely doesn’t consciously recognize the truth of his trauma. I wonder if Mycroft somehow planted the idea of Redbeard as a post-hypnotic suggestion, a desperate attempt to try and alleviate a young Sherlock’s devastating anguish. 

This is what “upset Mummy.” This is why Sherlock is both dependent upon and horrendously, hatefully resentful of Mycroft. This is why Sherlock has a longstanding, still-raging drug habit and lives in a more or less constant state of suicidal ideation.

This is why Sherlock hates himself, and believes he is both incapable and unworthy of love. This is why Sherlock believes he has to be alone.

I wonder If this is the leverage, the family history Moriarty (Mary) has on Sherlock, the information that Mycroft is trying desperately to keep hidden because he fears it would destroy a desperately fragile Sherlock.

“I was just a kid,” he says in The Great Game. That line always struck me as a bit odd, a bit defensive, a bit fearful.

He was just a kid.

But in Mycroft’s blind, heedless, unconditional love and protection of Sherlock, he has made everything so, so, so,much worse. It’s the lies that destroy us, in the end, and this huge lie at the center of both of their lives is the wellspring of all their misery.

To paraphrase David Foster Wallace, the truth will set them free, but not until it is finished with them.

And Sherlock is finally ready to be free. With John at his side, he has set his feet on the path of freedom and self-forgiveness. 

But I suspect, in the end, the price to be paid will be terrible for the Holmes Brothers.

My heart is breaking for both of them.

(Additional observaions, theories, gifsets are absolutely, positively more than welcome. Like I said, I’m stuck in a crappy diner and exhausted. But I really truly feel there is something to this.)

Sherlock and John sucking hard on those pipes at the end of the special like