This is a fantasy, a mosaic made out of three complementary sets of tesserae. We have the "biographer" Selden (Tim McInnerny) whose assignment is to try to dig up any links between Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle (Douglas Henshall) and his fictional creation, the detective Sherlock Holmes, although it is agreed that any results will not be published. There are also contemporary episodes from which Selden is excluded, for good reason. These include a couple of women -- Doyle's own devoted wife and a knockout babe he would like to disarticulate with his tongue. And then there are flashbacks to Conan-Doyle's own earlier years, including his medical tutelage at Edinburgh under Doctor Joseph Bell (Bryan Cox). The three sets of episodes are woven together in a way that is sometimes confusing, the way a dream is confusing, but gradually revealing, until, by the end, all is explained.
Or almost all. I didn't get the recurring images of the severed ears crawling with maggots. Okay -- "The Cardboard Box." But why is this image repeated? Why is it IN there in the first place? I missed the first few minutes and perhaps the answer lies there, though I can't imagine how. Of course I could speculate, but it is always dangerous to theorize before one is in possession of all the relevant facts.
The most interesting moments -- not necessarily the most dramatic -- are when Dr. Bell pulls of one of those stunts that were later to become inferential staples of the Holmes character. Given a watch to examine, a watch that has been owned by a perfect stranger, Bell complains that the watch has recently been cleaned and this robs him of his most important clues to the owner's character, so he can only say that the man was careless, came from a good family but found his fortunes drop, punctuated by intervals of prosperity, that in later life his habits declined, probably because of drink, and that he had a penchant for 17-year-old blonds all his life. (I made that last one up.) Conan-Doyle must have represented one of the last twitches of the Scottish enlightenment that enthroned reason and empiricism, because when he was old, after he'd lost a son in the war, Conan-Doyle turned to mysticism and the séances that were fashionable at the time.
The mystery that is investigated in some detail is the reason why Conan-Doyle decided to "kill" his creation, Sherlock Holmes, at a time when Holmes was probably the most famous fictional character in the world, much as Brittany Spears is now. I failed to catch any big reveal towards the end, but at the climax Conan-Doyle resurrects his detective and they march off together into the sunlight. If the viewer is left still a little mystified, evidently Conan-Doyle wasn't, and that's what counts. However, the detective figure that is Holmes in the last few shots on the Great Grimpen Mire is not by any definition Sherlock. It is MYCROFT Holmes that we see. Who's kidding whom around here?
It's an inexpensive production from the BBC and it's about an interesting guy, Conan-Doyle. He was at his peak during the Jack-the-Ripper murders in 1875. Too bad he didn't tackle Saucy Jack. Of course Conan-Doyle can't be counted among the world's most graceful prose artists. On a dark and stormy night, "the wind sobbed like a child in the chimney." (How did the child get into the chimney?) And, true, our introduction to Holmes, in "A Study in Scarlet", makes him look an awful lot like Poe's August Dupin in "The Murders in the Rue Morgue." But what does that matter? Conan-Doyle ground out these entertaining mysteries with sprezzatura, hiding his art by making it look so easy, and he gave us some deathless lines. "The curious incident of the dog in the night." "She was always THE woman." And, "Quick, Watson, the needle." (Well, he never said exactly that, but, again, so what?) You may have to be in the right mood to watch this. It's rather slow. But it's a must-see for the Irregulars.
Or almost all. I didn't get the recurring images of the severed ears crawling with maggots. Okay -- "The Cardboard Box." But why is this image repeated? Why is it IN there in the first place? I missed the first few minutes and perhaps the answer lies there, though I can't imagine how. Of course I could speculate, but it is always dangerous to theorize before one is in possession of all the relevant facts.
The most interesting moments -- not necessarily the most dramatic -- are when Dr. Bell pulls of one of those stunts that were later to become inferential staples of the Holmes character. Given a watch to examine, a watch that has been owned by a perfect stranger, Bell complains that the watch has recently been cleaned and this robs him of his most important clues to the owner's character, so he can only say that the man was careless, came from a good family but found his fortunes drop, punctuated by intervals of prosperity, that in later life his habits declined, probably because of drink, and that he had a penchant for 17-year-old blonds all his life. (I made that last one up.) Conan-Doyle must have represented one of the last twitches of the Scottish enlightenment that enthroned reason and empiricism, because when he was old, after he'd lost a son in the war, Conan-Doyle turned to mysticism and the séances that were fashionable at the time.
The mystery that is investigated in some detail is the reason why Conan-Doyle decided to "kill" his creation, Sherlock Holmes, at a time when Holmes was probably the most famous fictional character in the world, much as Brittany Spears is now. I failed to catch any big reveal towards the end, but at the climax Conan-Doyle resurrects his detective and they march off together into the sunlight. If the viewer is left still a little mystified, evidently Conan-Doyle wasn't, and that's what counts. However, the detective figure that is Holmes in the last few shots on the Great Grimpen Mire is not by any definition Sherlock. It is MYCROFT Holmes that we see. Who's kidding whom around here?
It's an inexpensive production from the BBC and it's about an interesting guy, Conan-Doyle. He was at his peak during the Jack-the-Ripper murders in 1875. Too bad he didn't tackle Saucy Jack. Of course Conan-Doyle can't be counted among the world's most graceful prose artists. On a dark and stormy night, "the wind sobbed like a child in the chimney." (How did the child get into the chimney?) And, true, our introduction to Holmes, in "A Study in Scarlet", makes him look an awful lot like Poe's August Dupin in "The Murders in the Rue Morgue." But what does that matter? Conan-Doyle ground out these entertaining mysteries with sprezzatura, hiding his art by making it look so easy, and he gave us some deathless lines. "The curious incident of the dog in the night." "She was always THE woman." And, "Quick, Watson, the needle." (Well, he never said exactly that, but, again, so what?) You may have to be in the right mood to watch this. It's rather slow. But it's a must-see for the Irregulars.