Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Sherlock Rewatch: The Great Game (Season One Cliffhanger Finale)

Can we agree that Moffat and Gatiss LOVE a good pun? Can we at least all agree on that?

Every good British schoolchild knows that the Great Game refers to British-Russian strategic battle over "the jewel in the crown" - basically Russian attempts to invade India.

So, it's cleverly cute that this episode, also dubbed "The Great Game" begins with Sherlock in Russia (okay, fine, Minsk/Belarus, but close enough, yes?), fielding the dubious story of a man imprisoned there, quite correctly, for murder. Sherlock being Sherlock is more keen to push the client's buttons by repeatedly correcting his grammar until his anger erupts and the case is "solved."

Anglo-Russian relations, indeed.

Of course, if we extend the metaphor, because we like to do that here, we have to look at the deeper implications of "our little game" here. Obviously, Sherlock is England; he's so British it hurts. That's got to put Moriarty in the role of Russia, the invading force, threatening Sherlock's "jewels".

Figuratively speaking, although, the fact that he uses John as one of his blow-up-dolls (see what I did there???) might make those jewels slightly more literal.

The bigger question, of course, is whether or not this introductory episode means anything in terms of the larger thread of the narrative (aside from the extended Great Game metaphor, of course). I mean, yes, it's cute and funny (gallows humor, quite literally here), but the scene doesn't serve much of a purpose in the grand scheme of the narrative, unless it's meant to reiterate the "boredom" of Sherlock's existence (considering he doesn't leave the house for anything less than a 7 in later episodes, one needs to consider Sherlock's motives for traveling to Belarus for what really appears to be a fairly straightforward case). Barry Berwick isn't a particularly clever criminal; he seems to have no connection to the Moriarty storyline (there's no way this guy's murder of his wife would require a consulting criminal mastermind). So what's the deal?

Barry's story is that he flirted with his waitress, much to the chagrin of his wife Karen, leading to a "ding dong" (domestic squabble) and his wife saying he wasn't a "real man". That's interesting. And connects to a larger and ever-growing motif of reality versus illusion in the text. I'd argue it's less the notion of emasculation that's of note here and more the idea that someone was imaginary or fictional that is key.

Again, Moffat and Gatiss love a good pun.

Of course, ding-dongs could reference doorbells which always seem to be dangerous at 221B, so let's also keep our eyes on that one as well, shall we?

Let's put that on hold for a minute.

And just remind ourselves of Sherlock's oft-repeated mantra, we see but we do not observe.

Observations from the episode:

1. Mycroft and Sherlock - there is definitely more than sibling rivalry going on with this relationship. Mycroft is generally acknowledged in the original to be smarter than his brother (as briefly referenced in his correction that Watson sleeps on Sarah's sofa). That he repeatedly requires his brother's "help" to solve crimes that require "leg work" is a bit ridiculous, yes? My sister thinks that Sherlock and Mycroft are actually working in cahoots from the beginning, attempting to help Sherlock infiltrate Moriarty's network of criminals. I think she's on to something here, as Mycroft seemingly requires his brother's help far more than a man with his intellect, assets, and pocketbook should. Mycroft uses Sherlock as a willing pawn in his game against Moriarty; there is no other explanation for the things that happen in Season Two. The scene where Mycroft repeatedly tries to "force" his brother into helping him is played for John's benefit (I also suspect they're already being watched by this point. Long before Sherlock discovers the camera in the end of Season Two). That later on Sherlock shows up to assist John only reinforces this; after all, it's not like we'd expect him to "give up on a case like this, just to spite [his] brother."

In case you need more proof of that, consider Sherlock watching the telly and yelling about the paternity of a child: "check out the turn-ups on his jeans!" A silly off-handed remark, perhaps, or more distraction? When Sherlock heads to the pool and is face to face with John, John, parroting Moriarty, says, "this is a turn up, isn't it Sherlock?" The exact same phrase within moments of one another? More than a coincidence. The fact that Sherlock says it in his apartment only reinforces that his apartment is bugged long before "The Reichenbach Fall". And if it's bugged, everything that Sherlock says there must be said with the expectation he's being watched.

2. Janus Cars: I've already hit on the dual nature of humanity motif they're rocking pretty hard here. But just in case you missed it, the writers really want to reiterate that people are not always what they seem. Sometimes, Chinese acrobats are really smugglers. Sometimes, a delivery cyclist is also a drug dealer. Sometimes, a gay IT guy is really a criminal mastermind. Pay attention to the dualities. Sherlock might not be the traditional master of disguise the same way that he is in the stories, but he certainly isn't showing all his cards yet.

The other big problem with this "pip" is that Moriarty calls and gives Sherlock "a clue". The clue is in the name. Janus is the two-headed god; his face is used, most poetically, in the representation of tragedy and comedy - the ever-popular actor's masks. Rich Brook is an actor. So, too, in his own way, is Sherlock. What's the real clue here?

3. "You're enjoying this"/"I like to watch [Sherlock] dance" - Sherlock never seems particularly dismayed. He even tells John not to try to turn him into the hero because he will be disappointed. He likes solving the riddles; he needs his work. Whether people live or die isn't entirely of importance to me as long as he solves the crime and gets the bad guy. The discussion Sherlock and John have here is an excellent precedence for the one Sherlock and Moriarty have at the end of "The Reichenbach Fall." It is also important that Moriarty sees Sherlock "enjoying" the "game" - if my sister's theory holds true. Mycroft also says almost the exact same turn of phrase later on to Sherlock in "Scandal in Belgravia" - yes, I get that Gatiss might just have written both episodes and likes the turn of phrase, but I like to think there's more going on here in terms of the surveillance happening at 221B and the inner machinations of the Holmes brothers.

4. Carl Powers - So, little Carl was a bully, was he? Moriarty claims he was taunted by Carl and that Carl's death was, in fact, a revenge killing. But Sherlock says all the classmates "check out". There has to be something more here than Sherlock lets on or knows at this point. Particularly as Rich Brook, an "old schoolfriend of Sherlock's" is also the man responsible for Carl's death. Can we all just picture 9-year-old Jim Moriarty for a second? I'm curious as to why Sherlock has Watson make observations about the trainers; he says that "a second opinion" or "outside view" was very helpful to him. But it isn't; unless it helps him show-off.

5. The "look of surprise" on Jim's face - this is the exact same face he makes when he shoots himself at the end of "Reichenbach Fall". Exact. Same. Face.

6. "I will burn the very heart out of you" - We need to look at the final scene with Moriarty as a bigger clue as to what happens at the end of Reichenbach Fall. Sherlock, earlier in the episode, declares "I am on fire!" - so burning is clearly a strong motif. If Moriarty doesn't want to kill Sherlock YET, he just wants to "burn him" (even the small, cold, black heart Sherlock claims to possess), it sets up Sherlock's seeming fall from grace. Sherlock loves the limelight; not necessarily the posing in front of the camera but the recognition for his achievements. He's a serial killer in reverse - he wants name recognition and must be willing to lose that name if he wants to play with Moriarty.

Later, in "Reichenbach Fall", Moriarty tells Sherlock that "he's already told him" what the final problem is. If that's true, it could be an Irene Adler-worthy riddle (although I'm doubting it's Moriarty's measurements) or it could be something he says or does prior to that moment in time. Just a thought for later.

7. Who is this guy? Right after the first pip, Sherlock returns back to his flat to see the basement apartment. After Lestrade, Sherlock, and Watson enter, this couple moves past Speedy. There's no need for this extension of the scene. But look at the guy who is talking to the shorter woman, in particular, look at his hairline. He looks a little like Jim, no? Wandering around London, just like the rest of us? The art of disguise, after all, is knowing how to hide in plain sight.

8. Taking the USB chip - This also reinforces my sister's theory; Sherlock is willing to use top secret codes to lure Moriarty out into the open. But it's not really what Moriarty wants ("Boring! I could get those anywhere") - which we need to assume Sherlock would know. Particularly later on for the Reichenbach Fall when he attempts to "return" the code to Moriarty on the top of St. Bart's. That's not the sort of mistake Sherlock would make twice, so why is he so quick to sell out his country's secrets just to arrange a meeting with Moriarty?

9. Sherlock's fake crying - When talking to Ian Monkford's wife, Sherlock really turns on the tears. For those people who think his crying is out of character on top of St. Bart's, this scene pretty much shoots that theory in the foot. The question is why does he cry? I don't think he's genuinely sad (obviously) but he's trying to sell his story to someone. Not John, since John would never believe that about his friend, but someone else. The question is: who?

10. No Germany - at least, nothing I could find easily. Heavy Dutch and Czech emphasis here (Wenceslas, Van Buren, the Golem, Vermeer). Slight overlap but nothing that screams "German conspiracy is a go!"

Sherlock Rewatch: The Blind Banker (Season One, Episode Two)

"The Blind Banker" which I think we ALL can agree is the weakest installment in the Sherlock canon, opens with a tea ceremony and a date request.



Since I'm currently obsessed with the notion that these opening scenes matter intensely, I'm going with the reiteration of one of Sherlock's central motifs here: You wouldn't like me if you knew the real me. The series loves to play with the idea of disguise as an extension of our inner selves (we see this most poetically in "Scandal in Belgravia" with the priest costume and the naked dominatrix) but the two-sided facet to the human mind is an idea oft-reiterated as well (in next episode's Janus Cars, for example).

The creators of Sherlock love the idea that a criminal mastermind could be walking around, just like everybody else, unassuming in disposition until it's too late.

Really, only a few things of significance or note happened in this episode (for me, personally, although I'm sure for others, this episode was their favorite):

1. The Code - we get introduced to the smuggler's code here (the Chinese numbers that correspond to page numbers in the tourist's guidebook). The episode ends with Sherlock commenting that the next code is probably already in play and John watching a Chinese street tagger using white paint to write a new cypher on a mailbox (I think it's a mailbox). If something is going to get taken from this episode and manipulated later, my money is that it's the code.

2. John gets mistaken for Sherlock - I think this one is crucial, actually. John very easily gets mistaken for Sherlock - he has Sherlock's tickets and a check for Sherlock in his wallet. He also was overhead saying "I'm the great Sherlock Holmes!" sarcastically (but we all know how well that translates). It's just that easy. It also makes Moriarty's statement that he is Sherlock/Sherlock is him feel that much more significant. In this world, it is really that simple to become somebody else.

3. The German Tourists - THERE IS SOMETHING GOING ON HERE WITH GERMANY. I DON'T KNOW WHAT. BUT THERE IS SOMETHING.

4. We all get to meet Benedict Cumberbatch's ex-girlfriend and rejoice in her beautiful normalcy, thus giving legions of single women everywhere the hope that they too can snag a sexy otter-faced actor of their own someday. Yay, Cheekbones!

5. Sherlock flirts with Molly. Many people seem to think Sherlock asking Molly for help is "out of character" for him. It's really not, if you watch the early episodes. He even manipulates her best by taking advantage of her known feelings for him. He might employ different tactics later, but Sherlock isn't immune to knowing when someone has feelings for him and exploiting those feelings when it benefits him.

6. Whoever is in charge of the newspapers here deserves a handshake. "Who Wants to be a Million-Hair". HA! But, seriously, the effort put into the newspapers is crucial. Later, they'll sneak by an article about the renovations at St. Bart's. Clue for Reichenbach? Probably.

7. Cinematographic juxtaposition. We get a glimpse of the beauty of "Scandal"'s juxtaposition in the scene of John and Sherlock at the beginning of this episode. While John fights with "a machine", Sherlock squares off with masked assailant. It's quick and campy but hints at greatness to come. These writers love a good foil.

8. Longshot Theory: Chinese acrobatics help Sherlock "fall"


See you next episode.


Monday, December 30, 2013

Sherlock Rewatch: A Study in Pink (Season One, Episode One)

My family is obsessed with Sherlock. We love him when he's post-Victorian. We love him when he's post-modern. We love him when he's in New York City and Watson is played by an American female.

But we love him most as Benedict Cumberbatch.



My sister and I recently (today, in fact) decided to do an entire series rewatch before the third season premieres. I've been searching for Moffat's mysterious clue (read more about that here) in the second season finale and it seemed like a good idea to review the earlier episodes.

To aid in the process of finding out what would be "out of character" for Sherlock and to ogle the British eye candy that is Benedict Cumberbatch.

I swear I'm not a stalker.

My sister has a pretty amazing theory of her own; I'll let her share that in her reviews. For me, this is about finding things that fit and don't fit; looking for clues to help decipher the one that got away later.

Shall we?

"A Study in Pink" is a decent series introduction. It's quick paced, flashy, and visually stimulating. Plus, I think the set designer is having the best time ever. Seriously, the man or woman who found this deserves to have their hand shaken.

But not if that means they're about to die, which seems to happen to a lot of the people Sherlock shakes hands with.



Here are some basic observations from the episode:

1. The story's "solution" is very much right in our faces from the very beginning. Now, I'd read the novella so I was anticipating a taxi driver/cab driver to be involved, but if you pay attention to the opening montage, the cab or the words "taxi' or "cab" are quite prominent. There is no attempt to hide what's happening; everything is right in front of our eyes. Misdirection is tricky, especially when it is so overt.

2. Germany. There are a lot of German/Germany references in these shows. The obvious one here is "rache" - which is German for revenge. Yes, I know, it's also a spin on the original tale which was, in fact, a murder motivated by revenge. That meaning has been supplanted here. However, considering the deluge of German references in later episodes (including, most notably, the recent minisode which had Sherlock presiding over a jury convened over "special circumstances" in a country which notably doesn't operate on the jury system. One might ask "why not just use a country that does use a jury system?"...I don't know. Something about Germany is significant, even if it's just the beloved birthplace of one of the writers or something).

 The fact that Reichenbach translates to Richard Brook seems to be a clear homage to this episode's subversion of the translation from the original. It makes me wonder a little if other episodes' clues will also get manipulated in "The Reichenbach Fall."

3. Sherlock isn't easily phased. I deliberately watched the final scene between Jeff and Sherlock carefully to gauge Sherlock's reaction when Jeff gets shot. Sherlock is remarkably poised. Not stoic, but not the flailing, coat-sniffing mad man that he is at the end of "The Reichenbach Fall." Important? Probably not, but I feel compelled to mention it.

4. Key words: bored (Jeff asks Sherlock if he is "bored", for example), ordinary, the description of Moriarty as "more than a man", Sherlock's repeated phrase "I have no idea" when we're pretty sure he does.

I'm not sure if there is anything here that I missed too much from previous viewings. We get the sense that Sherlock, from very early on in the show, has an understanding of Moriarty as an organization. If he senses that Moriarty is a criminal mastermind who enjoys game-playing (which is fairly easy to deduce from the facts at hand), then it's simple to assume that Moriarty is targeting Sherlock already ("you've got a fan, Mr. Holmes"). For me, that means everything that happens next happens with Sherlock's anticipation of Moriarty ever-bringing their worlds closer and closer together. He expects a direct confrontation. I would argue, he also probably predicts that their interaction will most likely end in death.

Although, it is tough to kill an organization.

See you after the next episode.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Film Review: Reviving Ophelia

I'm a sucker for anything Shakespeare-related. Even if, as in this case, someone just happened to have a copy of Hamlet lying around and they just sort of waved the book around a little here and there for thematic spice.

AND EXTENDED METAPHOR.

y'all know how much I love one of them.

This is the movie poster:

RevivingOphelia.jpg

If I had seen it, I might not have put the movie on. Already I can tell that short-healthy-BMI-ed-Kate-Middleton is not engaged in a healthy relationship with short-Freddie-Prinze-Jr. Just look at that chiaroscuro in her chin dimple. It very much wants me to feel afraid.

And then there's "Kelli", the blond cousin, staring fearfully at the passionately-embraced lovers. She is the one who reads Hamlet in English class and manages to put together the pieces of her cousin's abusive relationship.

That Shakespeare, so good at alerting us from the past about our bad decisions in the present.

Also, what the hell is up with that athletic jacket font?
Odd, that.

Shall we do this thing then?

The film opens with the mom from Malcolm in the Middle (not, sadly, another Shakespeare reference, although that would be a fascinating way to re-do Macbeth, no?) baking in her expensive and huge and spotless kitchen (I notice these things now that I don't have an expensive, huge, or spotless kitchen of my own) with two teenagers - Elizabeth (healthy Duchess Kate), who is her daughter, and Kelli, (prickly blond) who is her grubby-pawed niece whose early sole function seems to be eating frosting out of one of the 5 bowls of frosting they've got out.


This is going to be one hell of a birthday cake.

Peppy music alerts us to the fact that this should be a happy occasion - Elizabeth's birthday - however, it is quickly sullied (too, too sullied) by Elizabeth's dependency on texting her boyfriend and by Kelli's surly "you're so much luckier than I am/my life sucks" demeanor. Predictably, Elizabeth's beloved Mark shows up to rescue her from eating cake (there were like 242 candles on it; it probably melted before they ate it anyways) and Kelli uses "studying for a Hamlet quiz" as an excuse to make a strategic leave as well.

In Kelli's case, that means going back to her house and partying with three friends - skeevy hot boy whose voice sounds exactly like Mark's, skeevy girl friend who gets what Kelli's lascivious eye gestures really mean, and nice guy who cluelessly doesn't get what's about to happen as soon as he and skeevy girl leave.

Ay, madam, it is common.


Meanwhile, back at Elizabeth's house, Malcolm's mom and her ridiculously blond sister are having their cake and pretending to eat it too. Honestly, who doesn't eat the frosting???

Blasphemers.

They're arguing. That seems to be their dynamic. Malcolm's mom lives a charmed life with a "perfect" daughter and reliably pleasant baking skills while Blond sister made poor life decisions and now has a "surly" daughter and a very busy job at a car dealership.

I'd like to pretend there was more to this storyline but there really isn't. Sibling rivalry, be damned. Turns out, they're both equally shitty moms.

Blond sister returns home to find Kelli acting out Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 2 in her living room (only Kelli's assuming the role of Hamlet here). Country matters, indeed! This poor life decision leads to Blond Sister forcing Surly Daughter to spend her afternoons with Perfect Cousin and Da-Bomb Aunt because she can no longer be trusted not to give strange boys blow jobs while mom is at work.

I shit you not. That's how they contrive that.

Of course, her night is bizarrely less nauseating than Perfect Cousin who has gone parking with her Stalker Boyfriend Mark. While sitting in the car, they play a cloying game of "let's name our future puppy children!" right before she promises to give Mark her super-secret-lady-treasure.

But not in the car, like a common girl. In a bed, like a whore.

Much is made of how great friends Surly Daughter and Perfect Cousin used to be, before they turned into angst-addled teenagers battling their own personal inner demons, carved from a lifetime of having to deal with their crazy-bitch-mothers and absentee father figures (one for work, one a jerk).

Good thing they now have to spend so much mother-mandated time together!!!

It takes Surly Daughter very little time to realize that she was headed down a bad path and make a complete life change. It takes her even less time (maybe 2 English classes) to figure out her Perfect Cousin is in a Not-Perfect-Relationship with Stalker-Boyfriend Mark. Seriously, I think her hot teacher says something like "love and death are linked in Shakespeare" and she's all light-bulb-over-head concluding that her cousin is about to die a horrible, horrible death at the hands of her weirdly short boyfriend.



Can you see where this one is going?

First off, we get to learn all the cool new stalker tricks. Not only can your psycho stalker find you via your phone's GPS, but he also can text you constantly, call you when you don't answer his texts, and climb your drain pipe to sneak into your bedroom when you're not around at his beck and call. All of these things will be important later.



We also get Mark's backstory: his mommy is gone. Perfect Daughter translates this as "she's dead" but Mark assures us "She left". If we try desperately to apply this to Hamlet, we put Mark in the central role here (obs.) and his Mom is either Gertrude, shacking up with his uncle, or Old Hamlet, deadish but still a-hauntin'.

Either way, it means Mark's got issues.

Let's ponder the greater implications of the title next, shall we? Since, you know, clearly the writers and producers failed to do so. If we are meant to think Mark is Hamlet, why the hell was Kelli's head in her boyfriend's lap? And her dad is actually gone. She's the much better pick here! But she isn't. She just points out Mark's ex "went kinda crazy" - so it seems young stalker boy has a history of turning bitches into Ophelias.

Do me a solid, Lifetime, read Hamlet before you rely on it so heavily for metaphor.



Meanwhile, back in Elsinore, Malcolm's mom still hasn't figured out that her daughter isn't Perfect. Even though Kelli tries to warn her. It takes one terrible lie about a car accident followed by her child getting hit by Mark in front of witnesses for Malcolm's mom to finally act hurt and get indignant.

Perfect Daughter still wants Mark. Mark, Mark, Mark.

In case you forgot about Surly Cousin, let's bring it back to her for a moment. Because this film LOVES foiling, she is also having her own relationship right now with the nice guy who left her alone to orally pleasure the skeevy guy. Turns out, Surly is a poet! A bard, one might even say.


If one were drunk. Or confused.

Kelli's fledgling relationship hits a low note at the beginning when she tells her new would-be-beau that she won't go down on him (take that, Hamlet! Ophelia, REVIVED!), but I think the relationship really hits its stride when, at the beginning of their date, Nice Guy asks her who her "paradigms" are.

I just about peed myself.

It's like when you're a sophomore in high school and you want to sound SO smart so you write an essay about Romeo and Juliet or whatever and you thesaurus the crap out of it. Instead of two feuding families, you get twain vigilante ancestors.

AND YOUR ENGLISH TEACHER LAUGHS HER WAY THROUGH YOUR C-.

But Kelli isn't an English teacher, so she merely swoons over Nice Guy, compliments his swell diction, and then lists some truly useless "role models" or "bands she digs" (a.k.a. paradigms). Everybody keeps their clothes on and we revel in the magic of two teenagers having a normal, pretentiously idiotic conversation in between abusive Mark and Elizabeth episodes.

Which is good because in the Lifetime school of juxtaposition that means Elizabeth has to get hit by Mark now that Kelli is on her way to healthyland. Enter Mark who suspects that Elizabeth is flirting with a fellow chemistry classmate and slaps her so hard that the blood comes out already dried to her perfect-Kate-Middleton face.

Honestly, I'd like to pretend I paid real close attention here, but I didn't. All I know is that somebody apparently took a picture of our heroine after she gets hit by Mark, slapped a caption on it, and threw it up on Facebook for her (AND THE WORLD) to see. The caption?

Wherefore Art Thou, Romeo?

I can't even.

Look, as an English teacher, I think it's bad enough that they're traipsing all over Hamlet like it's not one of the most famous plays in all of literature. But that line ain't even from Hamlet! This isn't REVIVING JULIET! It's REVIVING OPHELIA! GET WITH THE PROGRAM, PEOPLE. And, when you use "wherefore" to mean "where" instead of "why", well,  it just frosts all my Elizabethan cookies.

Wherefore art thou so fucking stupid, Lifetime Movie. WHEREFORE?!?!

Seriously, Google that shit first, would ya?

There are a few more subplots here: Surly Daughter manages to get some self pride and writes poems that her new nice boyfriend turns into songs for his shitty band to play, Perfect Daughter goes to therapy and googles "How do I know I'm in an abusive relationship?", and Mark stays out of prison until he shows up in Perfect Daughter's bedroom and threatens to hug her until they both die or she takes him back.

I wanted to see how he handled going potty.
But, alas, Poor Yorick, it wasn't meant to be.


Thankfully, around this time, Ophelia has had just about enough of Hamlet's mood swinging and abuse. She's even able to look at his puppy dog eyes and not take him back (THANKS FOR THE SHITTY ADVICE, WORST FRIEND EVER!!!).

But Mark still is wandering free, so we best resolve that issue right fast. WWHD (What would Hamlet do)???

Nothing. He'd be in England by this point. He'd have killed her dad and lost the remainders of his marbles. Then Ophelia would have made some nifty flower necklaces and attempted to play undersea mermaid palace in the icy Denmarkian undertow. End scene.

Obviously, that is not how it is going to play out here.

I figure Mark will get a gun and pretend to shoot their imaginary puppy children. Instead, he gets a gun and threatens to shoot Ophelia while she's out at a coffee shop-musical event hosted by her cousin's new boyfriend Laertes.

Just kidding. That's not his name.

SHOULD HAVE TURNED OFF YOUR PHONE'S GPS, OPHELIA.

Jennifer Fidler's photo.

but this is Lifetime, so happy ending it is. Mark gets arrested and shouts "I WAS JUST PLAYING! I NEVER WOULD HAVE REALLY KILLED YOU! BELIEVE ME! WE CAN STILL HAVE PUPPIES TOGETHER!!" and then Ophelia bakes celebratory cookies, healed magically from whatever defect caused her to obsessively love Mark to begin with and ready to make amends with her new BFF Surly Cousin.

BECAUSE IT IS JUST THAT EASY.

the rest, thank god, is silence.