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Sherlock. Season 1, Episode 1. A Study in Pink (2010)
You can imagine how the pitch to the BBC went. “Well, we all know about the adaptations of the Conan Doyle stories. They’re very reverential and, in many cases, rather dull by modern standards. We want to bring Sherlock up-to-date! That and the fact we don’t want to be beaten by Guy Ritchie who’s just picked up a shed-load of money for directing a new old-school Sherlock Holmes story.” No doubt, they also referred to Ritchie’s slow-motion convention to break down Sherlock’s thinking processes into digestible chunks. Having little arrows and subtitles appear on the screen to tell us where we should be looking and explaining what we should see is always useful to those of us in the slow lane of the intellectual motorway.
So A Study in Pink (2010) starts off as in A Study in Scarlet with Dr John Watson (Martin Freeman) recently returned from Afghanistan and looking for somewhere to stay in London. A mutual friend introduces him to Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch) who’s looking for someone to share the rooms he already occupies at 221B Baker Street, complete with a new Mrs Hudson (Una Stubbs). We beautifully recapture the spirit of Holmes’ analysis of John Watson’s watch in The Sign of Four by having the new Sherlock deduce John Watson’s “brother” is recently separated and often drunk by looking at the cellphone he carries. There’s also a very nice rewriting of John Watson’s background. The suggestion he has post-traumatic stress disorder and needs to rest, in part because of his leg injury, is cleverly inverted, first by Sherlock who accuses him of a psychosomatic disorder, and then by Mycroft (Mark Gatiss) who suggests the good doctor should fire Ella (Tanya Moodie) his therapist for diagnosing PTSD. Mycroft suggests the cause of the stress is that our soldier cum doctor is suffering acute war deprivation syndrome. All he needs for a cure is a little excitement in his life. Needless to say, within hours of not actually agreeing to move in with Sherlock, John Watson is jumping across rooftops and running through the streets as if his life depended on it. Not a bad way of shaking off a psychosomatic war injury.
We then get into the meat of the story which poses the question “Can a sequence of suicides be the work of a serial killer?” We also get into the same game played by other authors like G K Chesterton in the Father Brown stories who eventually identifies “The Invisible Man” that can walk through the streets unnoticed. When we get to the fourth suicide, Detective Inspector Lestrade (Rupert Graves) recognises his own talents are insufficient and calls in Sherlock. I note that, in the original story, Holmes knows that Rache is German for revenge whereas our modern Sherlock thinks the victim was going to complete Rachel for reasons which become clear later on. You have to pity this Detective Inspector Lestrade if he’s read the original or the Lovecratian pastiche “A Study in Emerald” by Neil Gaiman. There are many different versions of this same scenario in the Holmes canon. Keeping them all straight in his mind and then trying to second-guess this new Sherlock will drive any self-respecting Lestrade nuts. Sergeant Sally Donovan (Vinette Robinson) casually calls Sherlock the “Freak”, a view shared by local crime scene investigator Anderson (Jonathan Aris) with whom she’s apparently sleeping when respective spouses are away from home. They represent the “official” resentment of the police that an outsider should be allowed to interfere and, worse, steal their thunder.
Anyway, this new set of stories is going to play between the lines of the original stories and one line, in particular, has already been highlighted. In the “Final Problem”, Homes is described as having engaged in a private war against Moriarty. So in this first episode, he first learns he has a fan who has “taken out a hit on him” and, at the end, learns the name of the fan is Moriarty. This immediately takes us out of the original framework which, chronologically, does not introduce the arch-enemy until The Valley of Fear. Given this is to be a complete reinterpretation of the originals, the writing team of Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat are free to begin and run with the rivalry between the two men of genius, not counting Mycroft who’s somewhat less proactive.
It seems Benedict Cumberbatch is playing Sherlock as somewhat sociopathic. Looking for something to relieve the boredom of existence, he disassembles crimes out of curiosity. He’s a detective only as an unintended consequence of his need for mental stimulation. If we assume he’s going to be confronted by equally brilliant antagonists like Jeff (Philip Davis), the main issue in each case will be the way in which each genius seeks to occupy his or her mind. The debate with Jeff is a masterpiece. If ever you had wondered how someone might persuade Sherlock to commit suicide, this is the answer. It magnificently plays on Sherlock’s inherent arrogance in believing there’s no problem he can’t solve. In other words, Jeff likes the challenge of analysing people and working out how to persuade them to commit suicide. In all probability, he’s using similar deductive techniques to Sherlock but for expressly destructive purposes. Martin Freeman has also started off well in the difficult role as John Watson. It’s a thankless task to stand with your mouth permanently open in wonder at the brilliance of the man beside you (except in the delightful Without a Clue, of course). Hopefully, this Watson will stop saying, “That’s amazing!” and just get on with running, jumping and, if the situation calls for it, shooting. So far, it’s not that he’s stupid. He just hasn’t had time to adjust to the new reality.
When you put all this together, A Study in Pink is an impressive first outing. There are one or two periods where the pace dropped but, to make up for it, there are also some nice jokes, e.g. this first crime is a three nicotine patch problem. So whether judged as entertainment or a reinvention of the Sherlock Holmes canon, this series starts auspiciously.
For reviews of the other episodes, see:
Sherlock. Season 1, Episode 2. The Blind Banker (2010)
Sherlock: Season 1, Episode 3. The Great Game (2010)
Sherlock: Season 2, Episode 1. A Scandal in Belgravia (2012)
Sherlock: Season 2, Episode 2. The Hounds of Baskerville (2012)
Sherlock: Season 2, Episode 3. The Reichenbach Fall (2012)
Sherlock: Season 3, Episode 1. The Empty Hearse (2014)
Sherlock: Season 3, Episode 2. The Sign of Three (2014)
Sherlock: Season 3, Episode 3. His Last Vow (2014)
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy sees Oscar nominations for Gary Oldman as George Smiley, for Peter Straughan and Bridget O’Connor (now sadly dead) as the scriptwriters tasked with adapting the novel by John Le Carré, and Alberto Iglesias for the music. It’s been variously nominated for awards by BAFTA, BIFA and others in foreign parts. To that extent, critics and those who vote for awards seem convinced this is a film of great merit. This is not necessarily reflected in its box office performance where it has taken only about $65 million around the world. Such relatively poor performance might indicate the potential audience views it as an art house film and of limited interest. The higher rating, undeserved in my view, may also be a deterrent.
Naturally I watched the BBC serialisation back in 1979. Checking back, it was in seven parts although, apparently a slightly shorter six-part version has been produced for distribution by DVDs. This means a sizeable percentage of the audience will have seen Alec Guinness play George Smiley. Not having read the book, I remember how I worked out who the mole must be long before he was unmasked. It was the best actor not to have been given major screen time. Naturally, Alec Guinness and the actor involved had a long conversation at the end. So, since all the awards have focused on the Oldman performance, I suppose that’s the best place to start. As a character, Smiley is supposed to be quiet if not taciturn. This always represents something of a challenge to actors who prefer to be seen doing things, even if only speaking. The solution comes from the director Tomas Alfredson and the scriptwriters who have included extended flashbacks to a party held at the Circus, particularly showing where Smiley becomes aware of his wife’s infidelity with another of the spies, getting him drunk to tell the story of his meeting with Karla (the lighting is particularly effective in cloaking half his face in shadow), and allowing him to seem more of an action figure when threatening to send Toby Esterhase (David Dencik) out of the country. The significant editing down of the plot also means there are fewer pauses between the odd questions he asks and the instructions he issues. For all this, the performance is slightly monotonous. When you might expect him to unwind a little, as with Connie Sachs (Kathy Burke), there’s very little animation. Although the performance fits the character and is nicely nuanced with very small movements to indicate an internal life, I prefer Alec Guinness.
Now as to the cinematography from Hoyte Van Hoytema, this is beautifully shot with muted tones as clouds of smoke drift across rooms holding anxious men. By using rather flat lighting, it creates a sense of the paranoia that was pervasive at the time. Unfortunately, all the really good news stops there. The major problem comes with the constraint of time in the cinema. Although I have not read the book, it’s obvious from the television adaptation that it’s a subtle work, packed with detail on the spycraft, considering the art of being a spy at a difficult political time, while pursuing a challenging investigation. You cannot take something so multilayered and condense it down to two hours without sacrificing a lot.
In this case, the process of editing has produced a focus on the investigation from Smiley’s perspective with very little time given to establish the characters of the suspects. Ironically, you get to see more of foot-soldier Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch) and Control (John Hurt) after he dies, than you do of Percy Alleline (Toby Jones), Roy Bland (Ciaran Hinds) or Bill Haydon (Colin Firth). This makes the plot more difficult to follow. I don’t mind a more impressionistic approach to adaptations when the subject matter is more suitable. But the investigation to identify a possible spy is not something you can gloss. It depends on details. When those details are missing, even the most dedicated viewer will struggle unless he or she has read the book or seen the longer BBC adaptation. Frankly, I would have ditched the party sequences to allow more time to establish a clearer context for the investigation and a better view of the suspects.
This is not to deny this is a very good film, but it does explain why it has not been shortlisted for best film in most of the awards. Even in the BAFTAs where you might have expected the maximum support, it failed to win “best”. Overall, it’s most successful when all it’s trying to do is create a mood of the times. There’s a moment of sadness marking the passing of an era and signalling a possible need to bring in a new generation when Kathy Burke as Connie Sachs says of WWII, “At least that was a real war. English men could be proud then.” So go and see Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy if you know and like the story, or if you’re prepared to invest considerable effort in following the backstory as it emerges through the flashbacks. As cinema adaptations go, it’s very good. If the production team had had more time to play with, it could have been better. There is a slight element of tragedy here. The producers assembled a high class cast and then did not give them enough to do.









