The fall

I have a theory.
(Yes, yes, yes. I know I have a lot of theories. But I’m pretty sure you come here with the express intention of reading about my hair brained theories so shut up and listen to my theory.)
I have this theory that Steve Thompson doesn’t actually exist.
This is based on a number of things. First of all, despite being the third Sherlock writer, his Wikipedia page is practically a stub. Second of all (and more importantly) when you type his name into Google images you get a lot of pictures of a creepy albino model dude who I’m pretty sure doesn’t spend his spare time going to cafes with Moffat and Gatiss. So my theory is that Steve Thompson is actually a pseudonym that Moffat and Gatiss have invented because everyone said they couldn’t POSSIBLY write all the episodes themselves and didn’t they have other things they should be doing like maybe making that Doctor Who thing that everyone likes so much? After the first series of Sherlock, they decided they’d give their “friend” “Steve” a little more creditability by letting him write an episode of Doctor Who. Except instead of writing it themselves, Moffat let his sons write it. Hence the good-intentions-but-ultimately-disappointing-resolution. So that’s my theory. I did say it was hair brained. I should possibly mention that I rather enjoy ‘Paul is dead (and also the walrus koo-koo-ka-choo)’ conspiracy theories.

Reichenbach rather lends itself to theories. Take this one-
Sherlock didn’t die because it wasn’t him who jumped.
Let me now allow you to debate this point. Given that you are a virtual reader, I will play both parts. You can be in bold.

But Sherlock was definitely standing on top of the building.
Ah yes! But John was quite a distance away and could possibly have mistake someone ELSE is a large flappy coat with striking features for Sherlock from that distance.
But they were talking on the phone.
The real Sherlock could have been out of sight and the fake one was just holding a phone and it was made to look like the real one via camera tricks.
But John saw Sherlock looking all bloody and dead and it was definitely him because DID YOU SEE THE CHECK BONES?
When John got hit by the bike, Molly and Sherlock rushed in and really quickly swapped the fake Sherlock for the real Sherlock who pretended very convincingly to be dead what with being a master of disguise and all.
Yeah but…John’s a doctor.
But, in fairness, he does have a habit of being pretty stupid sometimes. Did you see the way he opened the envolope containing mysterious powder someone just left on his doorstep despite several hired killers being ACTUALLY VISIBLE AT THE TIME. And also Molly possibly gave Sherlock some drugs that made him seem dead like they did that time in Romeo and Juliet.
So then the fake Sherlock jumped?
Yep.
So where did Sherlock get someone to pretend to be him while jumping off a building?
From Molly. Obviously.
And where did Molly get them?
The morgue. DUR!
So the fake Sherlock was…dead…all along and would possibly have difficulty pretending to talk on the phone and also jumping off buildings?
Well…yes.

All in all, our second theory is better. It goes like this-
Molly gave Sherlock some special Falling Off Building Drugs which allow one to survive blunt force trauma when leaping from great heights.

So basically all you're getting for today is theories. I also have a few pretty good ones about what John’s going to do when he finds out Sherlock isn't dead (hint- pitch a spaz) and who’s going to be married when the series comes back (hint- EVERYONE). But for now I have to go and read The Fault in Our Stars (which has already made me cry and I’m only up to chapter six) and write bad fan-fiction in my head while SHIPPING ALL THE SHIPS.

Damn I love Sherlock.

Hounds of Baskerville

Dashing

I suppose one of the main problems is that I loved Hound of the Baskervilles.

When I was trying to decide what the best book I read in 2011 was, the choice was pretty easy. The fact that I finished it a few days into January did make me a little depressed and gave me a feeling that I might have rather wasted 12 months of reading time. When I read Hound, I found myself stopping at the end of every chapter and putting the book down. This wasn’t because I didn’t want to keep reading, it was because I didn’t want it to end. I made that book last as long as I possibly could. I haven’t done that before or since.

It was always going to be hard for Sherlock (as wonderful as it is) to live up to that.
Did it?
Ok, not really.
Was it a frankly wonderful piece of television never the less?
Yes. Yes it was.

I’ve seen Belgravia four times now and every time I watch it I notice more canon jokes. There were some pretty clever ones in Hounds. The apparent light signing in Morse code and the pair in the inn with their giant dog. Quite a few times I thought “Aha! I see what they did there! They must be taking it in X direction from the book!” And then the story moved in a totally different direction and I was surprised. That was pretty great.
Most importantly, it had the essence of the original. Hound is a tale laced with superstition. It’s the case that makes Holmes question all the things he believes in. I think Benedict played that remarkably well.

Then there was all the homoerotic undertones (I can’t help thinking Gatiss ships that a bit more than Moffat does). And Benedict wearing THAT purple shirt while loping moodily through a graveyard. And Lestrade looking tanned and being called Greg.
I was not disappointed with the quantity of shots of Sherlock looking dashing atop large boulders. There was a reasonable number of those. Also moorland. These things are important.

So, the ending wasn’t totally satisfying but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t GOOD. I should probably go and watch it three more times. It was good enough to watch three more times (or fifty-three more times, which I inevitably will).

SPECULATION CORNER
By the time you read this, there’s a fair chance you’ll have already seen The Reichenbach Fall. Currently I’m waiting for beccamarsh to come over so we can watch it. I’ve been working myself into a state of moderate hysteria all week. It is looking increasingly likely that it will finish and go immediately to the dentist to talk about getting my wisdom teeth out.
And I will be a total emotional wreck.
I’m looking forward to that.
So basically its going to be TOTALLY FUCKING AWFUL. The problem is that is has the potential to be fucking awful in a number of different ways. Steve Thompson is writing this one. He’s best known for being the guy who wrote “the other one” in the last series. Also that episode of Doctor Who with the pirates and Kenny that contained about as many plot holes as a colander. I really want to think the best of him as a writer. I really, really do. But that pirate episode was a massive let down. So apart from being generally soul crushing it could also be…not as good. And I don’t know if I can bear that.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and stare at a download bar.

A Scandal in Belgravia

'I've never begged for mercy in my life.' 

A Scandal in Belgravia has proudly taken its place among that very special breed of television. The kind which provokes in me a reaction which can’t be articulated, which is made entirely of violent gestures and high pitched noises. In fact, after finishing it I spent about half an hour randomly collapsing against the lounge, hugging a pillow to by head and making pained, sobbing sounds. I also wept quietly into a cupboard and yelled at some soup.
I don’t think I have ever hated Steven Moffat as much as I hated him then.

I used to wonder what it was that made a masterpiece. An ok painting and a (supposedly) really fucking amazing painting look pretty much the same on paper. Then I realised. In the flesh its rather a different matter. You can see the masterpiece the second you walk into the room. It’s the painting that, despite all the others, draws your gaze. That emblazes itself into your memory and, for a second, takes your breathe away.
Put simply Belgravia is a masterpiece, in the truest sense of the word.

It is very, very hard to tell you how the episode make me feel. Probably because it made me feel All The Things.

Reading the original stories was worth it. It was worth it just for the way I squealed when Sherlock said “Speckled Blonde”. The first fifteen minutes or so were basically just Moffat having his own little Conan Doyle fan convention in the corner. And it was rather lovely to have enough fandom knowledge to afford a ticket.

There were so many moments. Staying Alive. Shut up Mrs Hudson. Mrs Hudson. Molly and her present and the awful, awful tension of Sherlock’s rant. Sherlock in a sheet. The ashtray. Moriarty. And Mycroft. AND THE VIOLIN. And the moment when I was totally convinced that the people in the plane were merely awaiting the shipment of small lemon soaked paper napkins and would wake up shortly to be served tea and biscuits. Just everything. The only times I wasn’t giggling manically or squealing hysterically I was holding my breathe or resiting the urge force quit the whole exercise before me brain actually exploded.

The sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. And a blunt one at that. Now I like sexual tension as much as the next person. I would actually be willing to hazard that I probably like it slightly more than the average next person. But when it reaches such a level that it is actually physically painful you should really take a moment to think about what it is you’re inflicting on your audience.

Come to that I CAN’T SHIP THAT MANY PEOPLE AT A TIME DAMMIT! I can’t. My brain is not physically, emotionally or mentally able to sustain it. The worst part is (with the possible exception of Sherlock/Molly) its all canon.  I’ve just finished reading the original stories and you can’t go through that without coming to ship John/Sherlock pretty fucking hard. Arthur Conan Doyle shipped John/Sherlock. This is undeniable fact. If anyone told me a week ago that Sherlock/Adler would come very, very close to beating that I would have said “HA!” and read them the passage from The Return of Sherlock Holmes where Holmes and Watson hold hands.
But Adler bought something of a trump card to the table- I actually wanted it to happen. I don’t really want John and Sherlock to leap into bed together. I’m honestly not sure what I would do if they did. But MY GOD YOU TWO. I don’t care if John’s sitting right there! He’s got his laptop and an internet connection right? He can amuse himself for a while. JUST FUCKING HAVE ALL THE SEX RIGHT NOW PLEASE.

Those who know me even marginally well are aware that this isn’t the sort of thing I make a habit of saying. Certainly not in capital letters. I’m usually a fan of the implied. But Moffat has broken my brain and now I can’t stop wondering what happened when Irene and Sherlock were stuck in the middle of the desert together for an undisclosed period of time.

Now if you’ll all excuse me I think I need to take a little bit more time to try and recover before whatever fresh hell they have planned for next week.

SPECULATION CORNER!
The second episode is written by Gatisis and based on Hound of the Baskervilles. Hound is almost certainly my favourite Holmes story. It had me utterly, totally baffled right up until the last moment. Because the only possible explanation was a really fucking big dog. And seeing as how there obviously couldn’t be a really fucking big dog there was no possible way to account for all the factors. The way the Conan Doyle did was brilliant. It blew me away. I am, needless to say, ridiculously excited to see how Gatisis is going to twist it. The beauty of Sherlock lies in its ability to surprise and delight those who haven’t read the stories AND those who know them back to front. There are almost no adaptations that can claim that. What makes the expectation rather more tense is the title-

The Hounds of Baskerville

Who would have thought that moving one little word and putting an S in the wrong place could be so totally intriguing. I am excite.