Saturday, October 20, 2012

A new, not-so-grand game.

Doing a little handwork on the wardrobe for this October’s vampire evening – natural, since the traditional time of the blood harvest is near upon us – and I needed a little light entertainment to occupy my mind while my hands were busy. Having worked through one of those “independent” comedies which is never a comedy in any sense other than that it isn’t a tragedy, as well as a British mini-series giving Peter Pan an Avatar-like origin story, I finally wandered into an on-demand venue that was offering CBS television shows . . . including that pesky thing some Sherlock Holmes fans keep alluding to in desperation to talk about something.

Well, as I, too, like to talk about something, and there had been comments that it was getting better, I gave it another look. Not as anything to compare with Sherlock Holmes, mind you, but just as an entertainment to compete with watching “Ramen Girl” on Netflix or some SNL rerun on VH1.  The results were not good.

The main character really wants to be House, but doesn’t have the charm. The fact that anyone even lets him at a crime scene seems as much a deus ex machine as anything else. And I kept finding myself wanting to take his charming “sober” companion away from all that and just show her a pleasant evening over dinner.

If you’d like to discount my opinions on this, I’ll give you an out: I didn’t make it through the whole episode. Probably not even half. Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t have tolerated this pretense at criminal investigation drama, and neither did I.

Such a waste of all that money and opportunity . . . I suppose if I diligently watched this CBS pretense week after week, I’d grow used to it. If you subject yourself to any bitter flavor or bad smell long enough, you either become numb to it or start to enjoy it and ponder its “subtle” nuances as a substitute for real enjoyment. But is that any way to live life?

I guess Sherlockians of old made a whole grand game of pushing Conan Doyle into “agent” status and pretending Sherlock Holmes was a true historical figure. Perhaps Sherlockians of now will find  away to make a game out of pretending that American television can produce a worthwhile Sherlock Holmes.

Hmm.  Whatever gets us through the winter.

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