quarta-feira, 19 de março de 2014

An Ode to BBC's Sherlock


            It’s true! After many, many pleads from my friend Chevy (who I can’t thank enough for insisting on it, really) I have finally watched BBC’s contemporary version of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s  Sherlock Holmes.
Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles was one of the very first “real” books I have ever read. And by “real” I mean without preschool educational intentions and entertaining drawings designed for children. My school had a system  where students would share their books with the class – they were all left in a box in the corner of the room - and every student was allowed to borrow a different book every week. That’s how I got into Baskervilles. Later that year, we had to buy it for our reading class, and the teacher even showed us the film adaptation (after a quick search on IMDb, I believe it was Rodney Gibbons' version, with Matt Frewer as Holmes and Kenneth Welsh as Watson, which was probably the newest one at that time). After that, I had read a few of the short stories from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which my grandmother owned – she is a big fan of criminal novels, Agatha Christie being her favorite but with Conan Doyle’s stories not being far behind.
So BBC’s Sherlock was not my first experience with Holmes – as I believe it was rarely anyone’s. That being said, I did not know what to expect. The Victorian aspect of the original stories could easily be seen as their very heart, so could a modern adaptation be fair to the books whilst happening in the 21st century?  I did not know the answer, but in my mind I was picturing something close to a slightly more British version of the countless and needless American crime shows. The hype this series carries in every social media is immense – even if fans have to wait two entire years to get a new series with only three episodes each. People spend this two year gap creating the craziest (yet somehow very convincing) theories about what the writers have planned for the next three episodes. It is clearly a worldwide phenomenon.
I have a judging radar in my head, and it is usually at its peak when the hype is too overwhelming. For some reason, when a successful show or franchise has too many teenage fans, I tend to judge quickly. Sherlock happens to have a very extended base of teenage fans, but you’d be a fool to think it is targeted at teenagers. The truth is, this series has reached such a dimension that it has become suitable to (almost) all ages. Teenagers, they enjoy it - but elder Conan Doyle fans should not be disappointed; the brilliance of the original stories has not been lost.  It’s quite obvious that the writing style is gone when you make a screen adaptation, but in this case – oh, in this case, the excellence of the writing in John Watson’s diaries has been transposed to a beautiful, inspiring use of quality photography and a splendid crew with a good choice of impeccable actors.
Credit must be given to Benedict Cumberbatch’s supreme, defectless portrayal of Holmes.  The smarty, arrogant aspect of the character is there – but with a remarkable dose of charm Conan Doyle fans could never have predicted. With an agile use of speech and a vast level of indifference, it is very hard to believe Cumberbatch is not the consulting detective himself, hadn’t he already proved to be a well-mannered compassionate actor. It is hard to tell what he adds to the character, but it has an appeal that could only be understood by sight.
 And then we have Martin Freeman to create the perfect balance. “The heart”, John Watson – the one who sees the situation as a whole, the one who adds tenderness to this relationship – there could not be a better person to bring this famous doctor to life. Freeman is the man who offers to the viewers his character’s own perspectives – probably another way to bring up the fact that Watson is the narrator in the original stories. We see Holmes as Watson sees Holmes, and we see the crimes as Watson sees the crimes. We get our emotions incremented during the episodes, all because of one man, and that man is Martin Freeman, who manages to simulate this flood of emotions in a splendid manner.
I take my hat off to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss (who also does an outstanding portrayal of Sherlock’s brother Mycroft), who have been involved in a good amount of exceptional work together, but that have perhaps reached their peak with the excellence of Sherlock, something that could have only been accomplished by true Conan Doyle fans, determined to do their best without expecting any massive response.

This year, I have joined the long 24-month-wait. This year, I am Sherlocked.