There’s not much to say about Sherlock that hasn’t already been said by people who know what they’re talking about but having now seen the finale of the second series I cannot stand idly by in silence nodding at the critical consensus. Sherlock manages to be about the most frustrating thing on the television whilst simultaneously being one of the finest works ever made by the BBC. It’s not that the BBC, or anyone, hasn’t made anything this good in a long time, it’s that they haven’t made anything like this before.
Some of the frustrations. The actual stories this series have been weak, paling even next to the sometimes slight Conan-Doyle episodes from which they have drawn inspiration. To take A Scandal in Bohemia and somehow make Irene Adler even more dependent on men is a bit disappointing, to throw in a side show of corpses loaded onto a…
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