One oft hears it said, in certain Sherlockian circles, that "there were giants in those days." People like to do a little hero-worship of their forebears, and giving them a metaphoric increase in physical size is a traditional way to do it. But they really don't mean they were giants.
The subconscious mind, however, works slightly differently.
Last night, I dreamed I went to a grand Sherlockian function, a mutant hybrid of the Sherlock Holmes Birthday Weekend in New York and 221B Con. It was a grand event, with hundreds of attendees in one large room, and eventually, some plucky souls said, "Hey, let's get a picture of everybody!"
In the dream, everyone crowded together to get in the picture, and suddenly I found myself surrounded by Sherlockians two to three feet taller than me, and I come in at a little over six feet tall. One of those nearby was apparently Chris Redmond, about whom I remember thinking, "He wasn't short the last time I saw him, but he had to have grown!"
Eventually Scott Monty saw the issue and rearranged everyone with the shorter people in front, where I wound up, and a second picture was taken.
As we near 221B Con, and all of the circumstances that have kept me from getting to Sherlockian functions in recent years are lining up to try to prevent me from attending this one as well, I guess my subconscious is making a pretty obvious statement on my feelings about being away from the community for so long, and existing solely in the Sherlockian world as an online spirit.
There weren't just giants back in those days, apparently there are quite a few out there now. At least my subconscious thinks so.
The ongoing investigation of Sherlock Holmes, reported from the Peoria, Illinois outpost of Baker Street's dirtiest half a dozen.
Friday, March 27, 2015
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Sherlocks no matter what the age.
First we had Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller as two peers in a Sherlock (or Sherlock-ish) role in a position to comment on the other, and now Sherlocks of another generation are in a spot to say a word or two about the other's Holmes.
Christopher Plummer has been commenting on Sir Ian McKellen's performance as Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings movies, and with one of those actors playing Holmes in an upcoming movie, while the other has played him in the past, it makes one also wonder how things would have played out had history been reversed.
What if Ian McKellen had somehow gotten the part of Sherlock Holmes in Murder By Decree? (And the short Silver Blaze.)
And what if Christopher Plummer had held back on Sherlock until the upcoming Mr. Holmes?
Two actors of the same generation, coming to Sherlock Holmes at different points in their career just show how, unlike James Bond, Harry Potter, or so many other characters, Sherlock Holmes isn't limited to one age or one point in his life. He can be Sir Ian McKellen's age in Mr. Holmes, or he can be Nicholas Rowe's age in Young Sherlock Holmes. He can be Benedict Cumberbatch's age or Tom Baker's age or . . . well, have we hit a limit yet? I bet a good director could get Sherlock Holmes out of any actor of an age that can speak. (And if we want to go the Look Who's Talking telepathic baby route, a good director isn't needed at all.)
It would be fascinating to see a graph of all the ages of all the actors who played Sherlock Holmes at the time they played Sherlock Holmes . . . and then cross referenced with the year they played Holmes. As time goes on, we know he's getting younger in some productions . . . and yet, we still have Sir Ian McKellen coming in at age seventy-five.
Interestingly, our female Sherlocks are starting their chart a bit younger than the males did. And that will be a whole 'nother graph of interesting, but like the boys, I bet there won't be an age restriction there either.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Waffles for Ettie.
Sometimes the concerns of career and community draw one away from Sherlockian pursuits for a few days or weeks, and one has to find a re-entry point to get one's head back into the game. But sometimes that re-entry point doesn't come easily, especially when it needs to fit a certain personal standard of blog-worthiness.
Yes, yes, I could review one of a billion stories in a myriad of mediums, but that would just lead to a possible less-than-positive experience. So many personal versions of the Great Detective out there that getting one to match one's own is never easy. The best thing, then, is to just head back to the Canon for a spoonful of original Canon.
But where to head for that?
Well, today, it turns out, is Waffle Day in Sweden.
And we all like the occasional waffle. But what has that to do with Sherlock Holmes?
Well, James Mortimer of The Hound of the Baskervilles was a member of the Swedish Pathological Society, but surely that doesn't rate waffles. So we turn, very quickly to another novel, The Valley of Fear.
John Douglas, the seeming murder victim of that tale, had a Swedish first wife. And when we get to the extended flashback of his former life in America, we find out what a wife . . . .
"It was a woman, young and singularly beautiful. She was of the Swedish type, blonde and fair-haired, with the piquant contrast of a pair of beautiful dark eyes, with which she surveyed the stranger with surprise and a pleasing embarrassment which brought a wave of colour over her pale face. Framed in the bright light of the open doorway, it seemed to McMurdo that he had never seen a more beautiful picture . . ."
Yes, Miss Ettie Shafter was that classic Northern European fairy princess old school standard of beauty that gave us such cultural touch-stones as the "Swedish bikini team." She has a touch of a Swedish accent, but not a full-on one, as she is second-generation Swedish. Her father came from there, but apparently she had never been. Her contrasting dark eyes surely came from her mother, whose origin is never told.
Ettie Shafter became Ettie Edwards after marrying Birdy Edwards in Chicago, with her Swedish father as a witness. From there, the couple moved to California under assumed names, and it was there she died of typhoid and her husband changed his name yet again to "John Douglas."
So this morning, now that I've finally got a little break in the concerns of day-to-day life, I'm headed to Peoria's finest waffle-serving restaurant for a waffle in honor of the late Ettie Edwards, nee Shafter.
Except I'll have to do so under an assumed name, as a tribute to that adventurous lady of Swedish extraction.
Postscript: And while I was enjoying my caramel apple cinnamon waffle, Gerry Rafferty's "Baker Street" starting playing over the restaurant's sound system. Sherlockian Waffle Day was complete.
Yes, yes, I could review one of a billion stories in a myriad of mediums, but that would just lead to a possible less-than-positive experience. So many personal versions of the Great Detective out there that getting one to match one's own is never easy. The best thing, then, is to just head back to the Canon for a spoonful of original Canon.
But where to head for that?
Well, today, it turns out, is Waffle Day in Sweden.
And we all like the occasional waffle. But what has that to do with Sherlock Holmes?
Well, James Mortimer of The Hound of the Baskervilles was a member of the Swedish Pathological Society, but surely that doesn't rate waffles. So we turn, very quickly to another novel, The Valley of Fear.
John Douglas, the seeming murder victim of that tale, had a Swedish first wife. And when we get to the extended flashback of his former life in America, we find out what a wife . . . .
"It was a woman, young and singularly beautiful. She was of the Swedish type, blonde and fair-haired, with the piquant contrast of a pair of beautiful dark eyes, with which she surveyed the stranger with surprise and a pleasing embarrassment which brought a wave of colour over her pale face. Framed in the bright light of the open doorway, it seemed to McMurdo that he had never seen a more beautiful picture . . ."
Yes, Miss Ettie Shafter was that classic Northern European fairy princess old school standard of beauty that gave us such cultural touch-stones as the "Swedish bikini team." She has a touch of a Swedish accent, but not a full-on one, as she is second-generation Swedish. Her father came from there, but apparently she had never been. Her contrasting dark eyes surely came from her mother, whose origin is never told.
Ettie Shafter became Ettie Edwards after marrying Birdy Edwards in Chicago, with her Swedish father as a witness. From there, the couple moved to California under assumed names, and it was there she died of typhoid and her husband changed his name yet again to "John Douglas."
So this morning, now that I've finally got a little break in the concerns of day-to-day life, I'm headed to Peoria's finest waffle-serving restaurant for a waffle in honor of the late Ettie Edwards, nee Shafter.
Except I'll have to do so under an assumed name, as a tribute to that adventurous lady of Swedish extraction.
Postscript: And while I was enjoying my caramel apple cinnamon waffle, Gerry Rafferty's "Baker Street" starting playing over the restaurant's sound system. Sherlockian Waffle Day was complete.
Here's to you, Ettie!
Saturday, March 21, 2015
The Breakable Mr. Elementary
I was watching another episode of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix this morning and marveling at the pure genius that went into constructing that particular half hour of television, as has happened more than once with that show. (The simple touch of a Cosby sweater! Genius!) When I was done, I checked my normal internet channels and was brought back to Elementary-land by an exchange I'd been having with Rob Nunn about that fiesty post on Rick's Cafe Texan from January.
The sudden mental juxtaposition of Elementary and The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt was fascinating, in that it revealed in stark contrast, the two New York Citys we're given in media.
In Elementary, we're given that bleak, uncared-for urban sprawl, where it often seems like there must be no paint stores, as everything looks dingy and abandoned, even where people live. (Unless, of course, they're very, very rich and a suspect.) And it's winter a lot of the time.
The New York of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is a different place, the sunny New York City of opportunity and colorful characters, where visits to Central Park are an integral part of life, and spring and summer prevail.
The song "New York, New York" famously declares, "If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere!" and in Kimmy's case, one feels she is going to make it. In Mr. Elementary's case? He came there broken and is all about just managing to barely hang on. The seeming message: "Yes, New York is so big and bad that it actually can bring London's greatest detective down to our level."
And that's the message I often hear in praise of Elementary over other Sherlock Holmes adaptations. He's painfully flawed, and thus relatable. We should not aspire to better things, like the true Sherlock Holmes who was at the top of his field for a reason. We should content ourselves that life is hard and we can't see we're sleeping with Moriarty or that we may or may not have killed someone in a drug-addled haze. The dingy loser version of movie and TV New York is the perfect city for someone like that.
But the opportunity-filled city, where the hopeful come to win, that we see in The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt? I'd like to see the Sherlock Holmes who was created to exist in that town. Of course, that guy probably never had to leave London.
The sudden mental juxtaposition of Elementary and The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt was fascinating, in that it revealed in stark contrast, the two New York Citys we're given in media.
In Elementary, we're given that bleak, uncared-for urban sprawl, where it often seems like there must be no paint stores, as everything looks dingy and abandoned, even where people live. (Unless, of course, they're very, very rich and a suspect.) And it's winter a lot of the time.
The New York of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is a different place, the sunny New York City of opportunity and colorful characters, where visits to Central Park are an integral part of life, and spring and summer prevail.
The song "New York, New York" famously declares, "If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere!" and in Kimmy's case, one feels she is going to make it. In Mr. Elementary's case? He came there broken and is all about just managing to barely hang on. The seeming message: "Yes, New York is so big and bad that it actually can bring London's greatest detective down to our level."
And that's the message I often hear in praise of Elementary over other Sherlock Holmes adaptations. He's painfully flawed, and thus relatable. We should not aspire to better things, like the true Sherlock Holmes who was at the top of his field for a reason. We should content ourselves that life is hard and we can't see we're sleeping with Moriarty or that we may or may not have killed someone in a drug-addled haze. The dingy loser version of movie and TV New York is the perfect city for someone like that.
But the opportunity-filled city, where the hopeful come to win, that we see in The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt? I'd like to see the Sherlock Holmes who was created to exist in that town. Of course, that guy probably never had to leave London.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Go Conan Doyle, go!
The very idea of a Fox network show about Conan Doyle just makes me grin.
Entertainment Weekly online just came out with a tidbit about Fox ordering a show with Arthur Conan Doyle and Harry Houdini investigating supernatural crime. And Fox doesn't do anything by halves . . . if this thing makes it to the air, it's going to not just be a dusty, slow historical bit. I'd even bet the supernatural on the show turns out to be actually supernatural.
And why not? Conan Doyle believed in the supernatural. Sure the fairies got debunked, sure Houdini could shoot down Doyle's mediums, but in a TV show world? Conan Doyle could actually have some of what he believed in turn out to be real!
Truth be told, Conan Doyle lived in a much more fantastical world than that of Sherlock Holmes. In Holmes's world, the demon dogs turn out to be frauds, the vampires are just kids tormenting their brothers, no ghosts need apply because they don't freakin' exist. But in Doyle's world? All sorts of supernatural possibilities existed, just waiting to be photographed.
The world of Sherlock Holmes was much more down-to-Earth than that of Arthur Conan Doyle, and for that reason, and that reason alone, Conan Doyle has a better chance at pulling off a lively, entertaining weekly TV series on an American network.
I'm still a little worried about Harry Houdini, though. In a show with much action, I just know I'm going to wince every time he takes a punch to the gut.
And then there's the inevitable Conan Doyle/Houdini slash fanfic (Does one need to say "slash" if there's an actual slash symbol already there?). The potential for bondage fan fiction for that show is . . . . well, kinda obvious.
Somehow this show's possibilities remind me of a line from Michael Keaton in that old Batman movie: "You wanna get nuts? C'mon! Let's get nuts!"
Go for it, Fox!
Entertainment Weekly online just came out with a tidbit about Fox ordering a show with Arthur Conan Doyle and Harry Houdini investigating supernatural crime. And Fox doesn't do anything by halves . . . if this thing makes it to the air, it's going to not just be a dusty, slow historical bit. I'd even bet the supernatural on the show turns out to be actually supernatural.
And why not? Conan Doyle believed in the supernatural. Sure the fairies got debunked, sure Houdini could shoot down Doyle's mediums, but in a TV show world? Conan Doyle could actually have some of what he believed in turn out to be real!
Truth be told, Conan Doyle lived in a much more fantastical world than that of Sherlock Holmes. In Holmes's world, the demon dogs turn out to be frauds, the vampires are just kids tormenting their brothers, no ghosts need apply because they don't freakin' exist. But in Doyle's world? All sorts of supernatural possibilities existed, just waiting to be photographed.
The world of Sherlock Holmes was much more down-to-Earth than that of Arthur Conan Doyle, and for that reason, and that reason alone, Conan Doyle has a better chance at pulling off a lively, entertaining weekly TV series on an American network.
I'm still a little worried about Harry Houdini, though. In a show with much action, I just know I'm going to wince every time he takes a punch to the gut.
And then there's the inevitable Conan Doyle/Houdini slash fanfic (Does one need to say "slash" if there's an actual slash symbol already there?). The potential for bondage fan fiction for that show is . . . . well, kinda obvious.
Somehow this show's possibilities remind me of a line from Michael Keaton in that old Batman movie: "You wanna get nuts? C'mon! Let's get nuts!"
Go for it, Fox!
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Sherlockos and Elementaros.
Back in January, a Texas fellow named Rick penned a blog post named "Sherlock, Elementary, and Me," which got a little traction on the Sherlockian internet this week. Despite the writer's kumbaya suggestion that fans of BBC Sherlock and CBS Elementary should get together and hug out their differences, he seems to be carrying enough anger against Sherlock fans to keep that battlefront stirred up for a little while longer. It kinda-sorta invalidates the comparison of the two shows that was laid out before it, but that's not the real issue the blog brings up.
One of the most notable things about the essay is the way it refers to BBC Sherlock fans as Sherlockians. All of the disparaging remarks that use the term, like "Sherlockians, who believe the Canon is rubbish . . . ." (a sentence that has probably never appeared before January in the eighty-plus year history of our cult), come off as a bit ridiculous as a result.
It brings to light an interesting thing that one might notice after three years of Sherlock and Elementary co-existence: We don't really have names for the fans of either show yet.
"Cumberbitches" just doesn't cut it. Sherlock has male fans, those who prefer Martin Freeman to Benedict, and those whose love of the show doesn't fit any of those categories. And c'mon, it's derogatory, even if it's used as humorous self-deprecation by the fandom itself.
Texas Rick likes "Elementarians" for Elementary fans, but its internet usage seems to be currently dominated by elementary school references. If we were to go with the "Cumberbitch" style, I suppose we'd call them "Millwhores," but that is more problematic than the Cumberbitch issue.
And what about poor Robert Downey, Jr.? Two major motion pictures and he can't get "Downgirls?" But we humans like our binary "us and them" groups, good and evil, Democrats and Republicans, Holmes and Watson. So I guess we'll leave him out of this discussion for the moment.
Were we to try to put Sherlock and Elementary on an equal plane, something like "Sherlocko" and "Elemento" might work for the individual fans, but the two shows are not on an equal plane and never will be. Find a Sherlockian who enjoys both shows absolutely equally and I'll show you a sociopath, someone who hasn't seen either, or a politician. Every single one of us is going to view the two different shows with two different reactions, even if those reactions are reasonably close.
We all have a sliding scale of like/dislike for Sherlock and Elementary, just like we do any pastiche, actor who played Holmes, or individual Canonical story. At the end of the day, we're all just Sherlockians, which is why, I think, we have yet to see a name emerge for fans of specifically Sherlock or specifically Elementary. Anyone who started as one of those and somehow remained distinctive from fans of Supernatural, C.S.I., or any other TV show has probably let enough other Sherlock Holmes material into their life to be tagged "Sherlockian."
Our ancient fandom is a tent that brings us all together, no need to hug it out. And sure, some of the people on the other side of that tent might be a little farty, or otherwise un-huggable, but they're still in the tent. Whether Sherlockiana took in the fans of Sherlock and Elementary, or they invaded, the "Sherlockian" monicker is still the one that sticks.
As it has for a very long time, whatever our personal likes or dislikes.
One of the most notable things about the essay is the way it refers to BBC Sherlock fans as Sherlockians. All of the disparaging remarks that use the term, like "Sherlockians, who believe the Canon is rubbish . . . ." (a sentence that has probably never appeared before January in the eighty-plus year history of our cult), come off as a bit ridiculous as a result.
It brings to light an interesting thing that one might notice after three years of Sherlock and Elementary co-existence: We don't really have names for the fans of either show yet.
"Cumberbitches" just doesn't cut it. Sherlock has male fans, those who prefer Martin Freeman to Benedict, and those whose love of the show doesn't fit any of those categories. And c'mon, it's derogatory, even if it's used as humorous self-deprecation by the fandom itself.
Texas Rick likes "Elementarians" for Elementary fans, but its internet usage seems to be currently dominated by elementary school references. If we were to go with the "Cumberbitch" style, I suppose we'd call them "Millwhores," but that is more problematic than the Cumberbitch issue.
And what about poor Robert Downey, Jr.? Two major motion pictures and he can't get "Downgirls?" But we humans like our binary "us and them" groups, good and evil, Democrats and Republicans, Holmes and Watson. So I guess we'll leave him out of this discussion for the moment.
Were we to try to put Sherlock and Elementary on an equal plane, something like "Sherlocko" and "Elemento" might work for the individual fans, but the two shows are not on an equal plane and never will be. Find a Sherlockian who enjoys both shows absolutely equally and I'll show you a sociopath, someone who hasn't seen either, or a politician. Every single one of us is going to view the two different shows with two different reactions, even if those reactions are reasonably close.
We all have a sliding scale of like/dislike for Sherlock and Elementary, just like we do any pastiche, actor who played Holmes, or individual Canonical story. At the end of the day, we're all just Sherlockians, which is why, I think, we have yet to see a name emerge for fans of specifically Sherlock or specifically Elementary. Anyone who started as one of those and somehow remained distinctive from fans of Supernatural, C.S.I., or any other TV show has probably let enough other Sherlock Holmes material into their life to be tagged "Sherlockian."
Our ancient fandom is a tent that brings us all together, no need to hug it out. And sure, some of the people on the other side of that tent might be a little farty, or otherwise un-huggable, but they're still in the tent. Whether Sherlockiana took in the fans of Sherlock and Elementary, or they invaded, the "Sherlockian" monicker is still the one that sticks.
As it has for a very long time, whatever our personal likes or dislikes.
Monday, March 16, 2015
Elementary goes Victorian?
Now that we're all pretty sure that the BBC's Sherlock Christmas special is going to be Holmes and Watson back in Victorian London instead of the modern era version they so successfully pioneered, one has to wonder: Suppose . . . just suppose . . . that the bigwigs at CBS decide to go, "Hey! Let's copy Sherlock again, but make it different enough that they can't sue us! It worked once!"
What would that ensuing Elementary Christmas . . . oops, make that Thanksgiving . . . Special look like?
First, it would be set in New York City. That's where Elementary must be set, regardless of the era.
Second, that era would definitely have to be Civil War times. Why? Because it can't seem to be copying Sherlock, even though it is. And in Civil War times, the show can have Abraham Lincoln, who is referenced in the Sherlock Holmes stories, and thus makes it defensibly relatable to Sherlock Holmes for post-showing Elementary apologists.
Third, time to pull in some Wild, Wild West doo-hickeys! Remember that crazy robot mosquito? At least one steampunk element is a must!
Fourth, opium. Mr. Elementary is totally about the opium. It even makes more sense for his wealthy father to hire an Asian expert in opium addiction as a nursemaid for his man-child son, which which helps deal with the whole "woman of Chinese descent in Civil War times" issue of squeezing her into that sexist, racist time as a Watson.
Fifth, well, speaking of which, things might be a little rough for Detective Bell in this Thanksgiving Special. And Captain Gregson has to be Irish, which makes him slightly more interesting.
Sixth, what about the mystery? Ah, it's a CBS procedural, who really cares? Feed some random Civil War facts into the formula and you've got that part.
Seventh, Irene Adler turns out to be Jamie Moriarty, who then turns out to be Queen Victoria herself! Only in her early forties, the genius monarch had a lot of other sidelines going to keep herself from getting bored in the palace. And, what the heck, if Mr. Elementary can't recognize he's sleeping with a criminal mastermind, he might as well not recognize he's sleeping with the royal MILF. (And a Natalie Dormer version of Queen Victoria? I'll buy that for a dollar!)
Eighth, Mycroft doesn't appear in this Elementary Thanksgiving episode, because he sucks. Gareth Lestrade can appear, however, because he's cool. But he has to be Irish, too.
Ninth, as a subplot, Lewis Carroll meets Clyde the turtle and says he wants to include him in a story he's working on. Maybe it's the opening five minutes before the credits, which often has nothing to do with anything else.
And tenth, and last, somebody named Professor Presbury will appear, but he will be an astronomer who sculpts. Why? Traditions must be honored, and one new "in name only" character from the Canon of Sherlock Holmes must appear to make it an official Elementary special.
All things considered, a Civil War Elementary Thanksgiving Special would have to be the show's highest ratings booster outside of the post-Super Bowl slot -- I'll bet you an Angus bust!
Go for it, CBS!
What would that ensuing Elementary Christmas . . . oops, make that Thanksgiving . . . Special look like?
First, it would be set in New York City. That's where Elementary must be set, regardless of the era.
Second, that era would definitely have to be Civil War times. Why? Because it can't seem to be copying Sherlock, even though it is. And in Civil War times, the show can have Abraham Lincoln, who is referenced in the Sherlock Holmes stories, and thus makes it defensibly relatable to Sherlock Holmes for post-showing Elementary apologists.
Third, time to pull in some Wild, Wild West doo-hickeys! Remember that crazy robot mosquito? At least one steampunk element is a must!
Fourth, opium. Mr. Elementary is totally about the opium. It even makes more sense for his wealthy father to hire an Asian expert in opium addiction as a nursemaid for his man-child son, which which helps deal with the whole "woman of Chinese descent in Civil War times" issue of squeezing her into that sexist, racist time as a Watson.
Fifth, well, speaking of which, things might be a little rough for Detective Bell in this Thanksgiving Special. And Captain Gregson has to be Irish, which makes him slightly more interesting.
Sixth, what about the mystery? Ah, it's a CBS procedural, who really cares? Feed some random Civil War facts into the formula and you've got that part.
Seventh, Irene Adler turns out to be Jamie Moriarty, who then turns out to be Queen Victoria herself! Only in her early forties, the genius monarch had a lot of other sidelines going to keep herself from getting bored in the palace. And, what the heck, if Mr. Elementary can't recognize he's sleeping with a criminal mastermind, he might as well not recognize he's sleeping with the royal MILF. (And a Natalie Dormer version of Queen Victoria? I'll buy that for a dollar!)
Eighth, Mycroft doesn't appear in this Elementary Thanksgiving episode, because he sucks. Gareth Lestrade can appear, however, because he's cool. But he has to be Irish, too.
Ninth, as a subplot, Lewis Carroll meets Clyde the turtle and says he wants to include him in a story he's working on. Maybe it's the opening five minutes before the credits, which often has nothing to do with anything else.
And tenth, and last, somebody named Professor Presbury will appear, but he will be an astronomer who sculpts. Why? Traditions must be honored, and one new "in name only" character from the Canon of Sherlock Holmes must appear to make it an official Elementary special.
All things considered, a Civil War Elementary Thanksgiving Special would have to be the show's highest ratings booster outside of the post-Super Bowl slot -- I'll bet you an Angus bust!
Go for it, CBS!
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