Robert, Benedict or Jonny? Which Sherlock Is the Best?

The past few days have seen me glued to Netflix (quelle surprise) and season one of Elementary. I originally watched it when it first aired ages ago, enjoying it in a sniffy, slightly dismissive kinda way.

I was of course, like everybody else at the time, waiting for series three of the BBC series Sherlock, sucking on anything even remotely Holmesian that came my way to keep me going – like a heroin addict gobbling down methadone.

For the longest time I regarded Elementary as inferior to Sherlock in every way. The setting was wrong, the crimes weren’t clever enough, Aidan Quinn didn’t have the right name and don’t get me started on Lucy Liu (who dresses that poor woman?)…

But I may well be wrong.

Three of the finest actors of our time have inhabited the shell of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s creation: Benedict Cumberbatch, Jonny Lee Miller and Robert Downey Jr (come on now… you didn’t seriously think I was going to add Martin Clunes..?). Each brings a different something to the role. Each has their flaws. But which of them makes the best Sherlock Holmes?

Let’s find out, shall we?

Robert Downey Jr

I love this man. I love the fact he’s sent himself to hell and back in full view of the world’s media and has lived to rise again and kick Hollywood’s ass. He can be light and witty or dark and downright scary but as Sherlock? He’s a disappointment.

Guy Ritchie’s steampunk version of the Victorian sleuth oozes class and gave Jude Law his best role for years as Watson – but Downey’s boho detective doesn’t quite hit the mark.

Oh sure, he’s got the moves and can play the twitchy genius to the hilt, but as a performance it doesn’t feel right. He’s too nervy, too desperate.

On top of that, RDJ’s breathless delivery and not-quite-on-the-money accent really bloody grates after a while.

Downey Jr IS Iron Man, and that’s great. He’s perfect for the part: smart, sexy and funny as hell. Sherlock Holmes, however, he is not. I refer any honourable members seeking further proof to the sequel, Game of Shadows. There’s 129 minutes of your life you’ll never get back.

No, this battle comes down to two contenders: the actors who played opposite each other in the 2011 stage play Frankenstein, alternating their roles. These men probably know each other inside out – and yet their performances of this singular character couldn’t be more different.

Jonny Lee Miller

There was a time when London-born lad looked set to conquer the world. His stunning turn in the pretty bloody amazing Trainspotting made everybody sit up and take notice. Marrying Angelina Jolie didn’t do his profile any harm either.

Since then, Miller’s career has cut an eclectic path through TV movies, big-budget offerings and telly work (not to mention treading those boards).

Elementary was a bit of a gamble – it was broadcast hot on the heels of the BBC’s smash-hit version and as a result attracted more than its fair share of criticism.

However, as I have pleasantly discovered, there is so much more to Miller’s Sherlock than at first meets the eye.

Over the course of the first series, his Holmes slowly opens up to sober companion Joan Watson (Lucy Liu) and reveals the demons driving him. There’s no breathless craziness a la Downey Jr. Just moments of utter desperation, depravity and sometimes despair.

Whether that despair comes from Holmes’ frustration at being the cleverest person in the room or an inability to make his particular set of gifts work to solve a case, that depends on whatever episode you’re watching.

But watch you do. In fact, it’s almost impossible to take your eyes off Miller. The slightest flicker, merest tremor of his face and a new emotion, a new layer is revealed, before it’s whipped off again and the Holmes mask of indifference slips smoothly back into place.

Watching Miller’s Sherlock is just about the most fun you can have with your clothes on.

Benedict Cumberbatch

His old mucker Ben is a completely different kettle of crawdads. He’s kinda funny lookin’. All angular cheekbones and hypnotic, almond eyes. There are Byronic curls and a now-iconic greatcoat. Cumberbatch’s Sherlock is not just a modern version of a classic character.

He is a pin-up, a poster boy. Someone teenage girls can pin to their walls and smear with lipgloss every night…

I doubt very much that was the intention of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss when they dreamed up this incarnation. Jeremy Brett was dishy in a consumptive sort of way, but Holmes has always had gravitas, and lots of it.

Cumberbatch’s version isn’t grave so much as borderline autistic, such is his crippling inability to deal with ‘ordinary’ people.

Luckily his Watson (the extraordinarily ordinary Martin Freeman) helps negotiate those tricky social waters, allowing Sherlock to immerse himself completely in ‘the game’.

Yet take away all the on-screen gimmickry and the polished editing, and what remains is Cumberbatch’s presence. His Holmes may look slight but he can more than hold his own in a fight, whether it’s fisticuffs or fencing.  He uses his towering intellect to both make sense of the world and at the same time keep it at bay, fearing its confusion and ennui.

To bring all that to the screen with such poise, such precision demonstrates Cumberbatch’s astonishing talent as an actor.

But whose Sherlock is the best?

Some could argue that the snappy script of Sherlock gives Cumberbatch the edge, with all that wonderful rolling dialogue, while Miller’s contained, decidedly Englishman in New York, is compelling too.

For me, right now, I’d have to go with Miller. His Holmes is more nuanced, more vulnerable, less flashy. And he has fucking GREAT tattoos. The chances are though, that by the time Sherlock series four comes around, I’ll change my mind and say Cumby is the one to watch.

What I can say for certain is that for years to come, audiences who love great drama, performed by two truly brilliant actors, will have plenty to keep them entertained in Elementary and Sherlock.

No Tinkers, Sailors or Soldiers, But Spies Galore in BBC’s Riveting The Game

Oh. My. Goodness. I never, in my wildest dreams would have thought I would be SOOOO excited to see the 1970s splashed across my TV screen – the decade of drab browns, sludgy greens dodgy shoes and even dodgier haircuts (I know – I sported many of them)…

But this was before The Game.

I never really considered my formative years to be ‘period’, but – haha – they are, of course, knocking on the door of being 40 years ago… How it flies!

1972 is when The Game is set and yes, the fudges and slurries are all present and correct. If you put a gun to my head, I’d still swear there was some wallpaper in one scene that was also in my nanna’s house.

Interior decorating joining lines aside, the BBC’s latest addition to its drama canon, a twisting espionage story, is straight out of the top drawer. But then I’d expect nothing less from Being Human writer Toby Whithouse.

It follows a crack team of MI5 agents, which includes Anderson (Jonathan Aris) from Sherlock who seems to have kept his straggly beard but has moved from forensics and conspiracy theories to being Alan, a ‘nosey parker’; someone who plants listening devices in badly lit rooms where meetings of a dubious nature take place.

Then there’s Joe (Tom Hughes), a handsome slip of a thing with a tortured past (we get a glimpse of it in the opening sequence) and a wayward accent – but hey, that could be my ears again.

We meet Sarah (Victoria Hamilton), a cool drink of water with crisp diction, a nifty haircut and who also happens to be Alan’s wife, as well as Bobby (Paul Ritter), a complex mix of seething ambition, terrific tailoring and total mummy’s boy.

Meanwhile, giving us ordinary mortals a view on events normally played out in the shadows is copper James Fenchurch (Shaun Dooley), and overseeing them all is Daddy, whose glories are firmly behind him, and who – if the cruel whispers are to be believed – is past it…

They are all called in to act when Arkady, a defector, tells Joe about a deadly Russian plot that is set to rock the British establishment to its core (seriously – is there any other kind?).

However, their efforts to get to the bottom of ‘Operation Glass’ lead to tragedy, the opening of old wounds and potentially more damage being inflicted than they could have ever imagined.

I fervently hope and pray that the rest of The Game is every bit as good as its opening episode. I find myself intrigued by Hamilton, blown away by Ritter and thoroughly delighted that Brian Cox has, at long last, been given a role worthy of his immense talents.

The Game brilliantly treads a fine line: it oozes tension while at the same time paying out enough of the story and character background to keep me both glued and guessing.

In short: it is an instant classic. Miss it at your peril.

THE WHO, WHAT, WHEN OF IT

WHAT’S IT CALLED?

The Game

WHEN IS IT ON?

Thursday 30 April, 9pm

WHAT CHANNEL?

BBC2

WHO IS IN IT?

Brian Cox, Victoria Hamilton, a scene-stealing Paul Ritter, Tom Hughes, Jonathan Aris and Shaun Dooley.

WHO SHOULD WATCH IT?

Everyone who likes intelligent, meaty telly – especially Le Carre fans.

WHO SHOULDN’T WATCH IT?

Anyone who can’t bear to see a heavily printed carpet.

Sherlock lives! Now all I have to do is hang on until Sunday…

Most of what passes for entertainment on the telly these days is, by and large, utter bollocks. I can’t stand game shows, despise soaps with a passion and am ambivalent about the majority of crime dramas, working on the theory that, like boobs, if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.

I count among this sweeping generalisation much of ITV’s output, as well as Five’s, with a goodly chunk of Channel 4 thrown in for good measure. As you can imagine, it doesn’t leave much of the average TV schedules left to pick over, but what remains is usually selected Channel 4 documentaries, a few Sky Atlantic/Living series and a hefty dollop of delights from the BBC.

The British Broadcasting Corporation’s reputation may have taken a battering recently, but Aunty Beeb can still kick just about every other broadcaster’s arse into the middle of next week when it comes to making quality programming. Think of just about every decent homegrown show you’ve seen in the past zillion years and, chances are, the majority will have come from the BBC.

I have my favourites (stick a pin in the period drama of your choice, The Office, Messiah, The Fall, the list is long but distinguished). Arguably the daddy of them all though, has been Sherlock – Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss’ wet dream of a show, which has not only given them the chance to bring Conan Doyle’s smart-arse consulting detective to life and made an overnight star out of the chisel-cheekboned Benedict Cumberbatch, but also has inspired us, the viewing public to watch and adore it in our millions.

I’m not sure I’ve ever been more excited about a TV programme than I was about the first episode of series three. I even made a point of getting in some high-end nibblies (foie gras and Sauterne, no less) to accompany it. Nerves were jangling, naturally – would Moffat and Gatiss be able to pull off the remarkable feat of satisfying our curiosity about Sherlock’s apparently fatal fall, reintroduce him to the world AND serve up a juicy mystery for him to solve? The answer was, of course, a massive yes.

The best thing about tour de force of an opener The Empty Hearse was the apparent ease with which everything slotted into place. Of course Sherlock would burst back into a staggered John’s life just as he was about to pop the question. Of course faceless criminals would abduct John, only for Holmes to pull his friend from a burning pyre, and, of course, they would go on to foil a murky plot to blow up Parliament on Bonfire Night. Easy peasy. In between, the in-jokes came thick and fast, from dream sequences exploring how Sherlock ‘did it’ (Derren Brown, you naughty boy) and Cumberbatch’s real-life parents playing his mum and dad, to the hilarious moment we met Molly’s new boyfriend, Tom… Who could ask for more?

If Sherlock teaches us anything, it’s that good things come to those who wait, and Christ knows we’ve waited long enough. In this era of the boxed set and Netflix, where we can gorge on episode after episode of TV shows until our eyeballs plop out of our heads, being forced to diet and exercise a little self control is no bad thing. As with so many things, anticipation is everything, and while Gatiss and Moffat may have been experiencing the mother of all brown trouser moments as series three got underway, I can assure them they weren’t alone.

The new version of Sherlock has been clutched so closely to the world’s bosom (by that of course, I mean mine) that – for me at least – I was desperate not to be disappointed. We had waited so long and so patiently, for it not to live up to expectations was too painful a notion to even consider. It sounds so throwaway to say ‘luckily’, because it means far more than that, but luckily, The Empty Hearse blew the top of my head off.

After two long, Holmes and Watson-free years, hanging on until Sunday for the next instalment shouldn’t be too hard, but I bet you a million pounds it will feel as though time has slowed down deliberately, just to test my patience. Thankfully I know even that short wait will be well worth it.

Mark Gatiss serves up a suitably chilling festive tale for the BBC

If anyone knows anything about spooky, it’s Mark Gatiss. He wrote the book – or at least fronted the trio of documentaries – on the history of horror movies in 2010. So, there can be no doubt he knows all about Jacques Tourneur. He directed B-movie horror films in the 1940s, and could do amazing things with no money but just made a mess when given a decent budget.

And, so you can appear wise and knowledgeable in the pub later, he directed Cat People, I Walked with a Zombie, The Leopard Man and Curse of the Demon. This last film may well have influenced Gatiss, who has resurrected the BBC’s ‘ghost story for Christmas’ strand with the eerie and strangely titled The Tractate Middoth.

In Curse of the Demon, the hero sets out to debunk the claims of a mysterious cult leader, only to find himself drawn into a terrifying and deadly game of occult cat and mouse with a creature from the bowels of hell. In the film, mysterious flashing lights herald the arrival of beast.

In Gatiss’ adaptation of MR James’s short story, mysterious motes of dust herald the arrival of a terrifying and vengeful apparition from beyond the grave, which is unleashed by one man’s obsessive hunt for an ancient Hebrew text.

Tourneur wanted the flashing lights and movie-goers’ imaginations to conjure up their own personal terror for the monster in Curse of the Demon – but studio bosses lost their collective nerve and insisted on an animatronic beastie that waved its arms unconvincingly, and said “Grrr…. argh”. It toned down genuinely scary scenes into ones that looked more like the Mutant Enemy monster at the end of the credits on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

So it goes with The Tractate Middoth. The monster is a 21st-century special effect improvement on the one from Curse of the Demon, and it is a little bit scary, but after its first appearance, about 20 minutes in, The Tractate Middoth loses much of its chill factor. Which is a little bit of a shame.

Its PG-rated, safe to watch with your kids and the mother-in-law fear factor aside, The Tractate Middoth is a smart and slightly spooky worthy successor to the BBC’s festive ghost tales of the 1970s.

THE WHO, WHAT, WHEN OF IT

WHAT’S IT CALLED?

The Tractate Middoth

WHEN IS IT ON?

9.30pm, Wednesday, December 25th

WHAT CHANNEL?

BBC2

WHO IS IN IT?

Louise Jameson, Eleanor Bron, John Castle, Roy Barraclough, Sacha Dhawan, David Ryall and Sherlock stalwart Una Stubbs

WHO SHOULD WATCH IT?

Anyone who loved the Beeb’s Christmas ghost stories from the 1970s

WHO SHOULDN’T WATCH IT?

Fans of the Saw franchise and anyone else who rates horror by its blood-spatter levels

Doctor, Doctor, Are you feeling quite well?

Hot on the heels of the brilliant Day of the Doctor, Whovians up and down the land are now turning their attention to the much-anticipated Christmas special.

According to this story from The Mirror, more surprises will be served up in the long-running sci-fi show, courtesy of showrunner Stephen Moffat.

I reckon it’s all a ploy to stop us from tearing the internet apart looking for clues as to how Sherlock Holmes lived to fight another day at the end of series two, but we’d be interested to know what YOU think…

 

Renew your love of TV drama with David Tennant’s The Escape Artist

Since the first series of Broadchurch ended earlier this year, fans of high-end, twist-in-the-tail psychological crime dramas have been desperately seeking something to rave about.

We were satisfied for a while as the BBC brought us the stunning What Remains, the strangely huh?-ending The Fall – which, like Broadchurch, has been recommissioned for a second series but, unlike Broadchurch, probably won’t have an American rehash – and Jane Campion-import Top of the Lake… not to mention more Scandi-noir than we could shake a Viking at, while Sky delivered slick Bridge remake The Tunnel.

But, with Homeland’s star seemingly on the wane as the turgid third series limps on (though, reports from across the Atlantic suggest an upcoming episode will restore viewers’ faith in Carrie and Brody), it was beginning to look like we’d have to start rooting round the VoD sites to satisfy our need for some stimulating TV.

Well, not any more. Up steps David Tennant once again with another slice of really, really – sickeningly, really – good drama.

He plays Will Burton, a disgustingly intelligent up-and-coming has-it-all defence barrister, a married father with hot and cold running houses and a dog, who can spot a flaw in the prosecution’s case faster than you can say ‘technicality’.

Hiding behind his ‘everyone deserves a defence’ mantra, he defends the almost indefensible – and he wins. Every time. Though it costs him, as he finds it nearly impossible to shake the hands of some of the more unsavoury people he represents. And so it is that he is persuaded to accept the case of an thoroughly unlikeable and totally arrogant man, who stands accused of the particularly horrific sexual murder of a young woman.

As you’d expect from Spooks’ writer David Wolstencroft, this three-part thriller sets a breathless pace from the opening credits of the first episode. Burton successfully defends two clients – including the accused murderer – in the opening half hour, but after this second successful case, the brilliant lawyer’s near-perfect world is shattered in the cruellest fashion.

This could easily have turned into a worldly Devil’s Advocate, but Tennant’s performance is pitch perfect. A lock of the jaw here, a sniff there, a refusal to shake a hand – all small touches that create a character so much greater than the sum of those tiny parts. Burton could, probably should, be impossible to like, but we’re with him all the way and his horror and pain at the end of a truly astonishing opening episode is tangible.

He’s aided and abetted by the wonderful Ashley Jensen, who plays his perfect wife, the mesmerising Sophie Okonedo as a rival lawyer, and Toby Kebbell – who channels Kevin Spacey in Se7en to play the genuinely creepy and unhinged Liam Foyle. Fans of the Inspector Dalgleish mysteries will probably also be pleased to see veteran Roy Marsden back on the screen in a small but telling role.

With Legacy, Lucan, The Great Train Robbery, Hostages, a second series of The Bridge and Stephen Moffatt’s small-screen leviathan Sherlock all set to grace our screens in the months to come, The Escape Artist could be the beginning of a beautiful new friendship with gripping TV drama.

THE WHO, WHAT, WHEN OF IT

WHAT’S IT CALLED?

The Escape Artist

WHEN IS IT ON?

9pm, Tuesday, October 29

WHAT CHANNEL?

BBC1

WHO’S IN IT?

David Tennant, Ashley Jensen, Sophie Okonedo, Toby Kebbell, Roy Marsden

WHO SHOULD WATCH IT?

Fans of brilliant, breathless, tense, psychological drama

WHO SHOULDN’T WATCH IT?

Fools and eejits

Holmes Away From Holmes

Lucy Liu is definitely not Martin Freeman, but Jonny Lee Miller does his best to give Benedict Cumberbatch a run for his money

Let’s get something straight right from the start.

Elementary is not as good as Sherlock.

There. We’ve said it.

But that doesn’t mean this very 21st-century take on the literary detective is rubbish.

Jonny Lee Miller, sporting a handsome dash of designer stubble, tattoos aplenty and more chest hair than can surely be healthy, is very watchable, in a twitchy, wild-eyed way.

His slightly manic, irritable and skittish English Holmes
in New York is at least
3,000 miles away from Benedict Cumberbatch’s cool, angular London-based sleuth.

And that’s as it should be. Miller’s Holmes is edgier, and has more cracks. And he knows it.

Even his first meeting with Dr Watson strips him down – almost literally (hence us knowing all about his tattoos and how much chest hair he has) – and we hope his character will be layered up over the forthcoming episodes.

This transplanted Holmes is plying his trade in the Big Apple, the story hints, after an epic fail on his more usual side of the Pond, helping world-weary flatfoot Aidan Quinn solve dastardly crimes perpetrated by dastardly people.

We meet him as he investigates the mysterious death of a psychiatrist’s wife, and while it definitely isn’t A Study in Scarlet (or even A Study in Pink), the story is decent enough to give the modern-day consultant detective something to get his teeth into.

So, Elementary does just what it is supposed to… at least, it does until we get to Lucy Liu.

She plays Joan Watson (can you see what they did, there?) though ‘playing’ is perhaps stretching things just a little.

While the Holmes of the thoroughly modern Miller is a Gordian knot of nervous and spiky energy, Liu’s Watson is as emotive as a plank of wood… after it has had a course of botox.

Liu, for all her Hollywood credentials, simply can’t seem able to summon up an expression.

When Holmes demonstrates his deductive prowess by predicting the script of a daytime soap, she looks blank. When he callously reveals her big, personal and shameful secret, she looks blank. When he cleverly traps the perpetrator of the crime he’s detecting, she looks blank. When she’s angry with Holmes, she looks blank. When she – briefly – gets one over on him, she’s blank.

Even when she cracks a funny, her face just doesn’t budge – and before long, it goes from being a bit strange to downright annoying.

Watson is, in any adaptation, the ying to Holmes’s deductive yang – and if Liu can’t even summon up the energy to bend that face of hers into a frown, what chance does she really have of keeping up with Mr Miller?

The answer is simple: none – that is the biggest weakness of the opening episode. And it doesn’t take a genius to work that out…

THE WHAT, WHEN, WHO OF IT

WHAT’S IT CALLED?
Elementary

WHEN IS IT ON?

Tuesday, October 23, at 9pm

WHAT CHANNEL?
Sky Living

WILL I KNOW ANYONE IN IT?

Jonny Lee Miller (Trainspotting / Eli Stone)

Lucy Liu (Charlie’s Angels / Kill Bill Vol 1)

Aidan Quinn (What hasn’t he been in?)
WHO SHOULD WATCH IT?

Sherlock Holmes fans with no prejudices

WHO SHOULDN’T WATCH IT?

Mark Gatiss and Stephen Moffatt