I know we are all on a “Mycroft is doomed” kick, but after thinking about the scene in which Mycroft and Sherlock are discussing their bet, I can’t help but wonder if this scene was actually all about Sherlock. We are told to focus on Mycroft and his overindulgence; John says that if Mycroft keeps this up that he will be dead in five years. Sherlock says three and then two, if Mycroft just indulges a little bit more.
And what has Sherlock been doing this entire time? Indulging in his habit. It’s possible this scene is nothing more than foreshadowing Mycroft’s untimely demise, but all I can see is Sherlock telling himself what he already knows: if he keeps this up, if he doesn’t stop taking drugs, he’s got two years at the most. In his mind palace, John (his heart and steadfast companion– always there when he needs him) and Mycroft (meddling, but ultimately always knows what Sherlock needs to do in time of crisis) tell him what he doesn’t want to hear or really acknowledge. It manifests as Mycroft going for one more pudding, but then the waiter pulls back the lid and it is revealed that it’s never just *one* more pudding. With Sherlock, it’s never just *one* more high. He can’t be satisfied with just one. He has to keep chasing the high.
What does it say, then, that mind palace!John can actively see “Mycroft’s” problem, but our real John keeps overlooking and pretending that Sherlock’s problem isn’t as bad as it actually is? Is it Sherlock wishing that John could see to the heart of the issue (after all, mind palace!John is so worried about “Mycroft’s” heart)? So much of the narrative of this show is about Sherlock’s heart, his sentiment, that I can’t read this scene as just being for laughs or a nod to what awaits Mycroft in series 4.
It’s an interesting echo of the mind palace scene from HLV; Sherlock actively seeks out Mycroft and John in that episode because he knows he is dying, but wants to live. In the special, he knows he is dying, but doesn’t want to hear it. He needs someone to see to the heart of the matter. He needs his doctor.
This also gives the whole “man out of time” a very different read.
I’m telling you – 2016 television is downhill from here on.
From a negligible half-line in one of the 60 stories by Arthur Conan Doyle about Sherlock Holmes – the detective mentions “the case of Ricoletti of the club foot and his abominable wife” as he’s going through old files in The Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual – Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat built 90 minutes of the fastest, funniest, flashiest, cleverest, most demanding, ridiculous and brilliant drama there is likely to be until … well, possibly until the next Sherlock comes along, sometime in 2017 we are told…
It was never twins. There were doubles, and doublings-back, and parallels aplenty, there were storylines nesting inside storylines nesting inside storylines, dreams inside realities and out again, there were riffs on the riffs we know from the “real” series – the detective plucks imaginary cuttings from the air instead of websites and images and Watson is summoned by Holmes via telegram instead of text (“Come at once. If convenient. If not convenient, come all the same” – because Sherlock is a constant) – but never twins.
It was an utterly dazzling display, with bravura performances from the actors – Cumberbatch and Scott’s first scene together being among the finest they have ever had – and the plotting (if you stayed with it, and if you didn’t – no matter. That’s what the rewind button’s for. In the meantime, just marvel at the treasures being poured out before you) was a thing of wonder.
…In the meantime, let’s enjoy the fact that there was a joyous and sumptuous celebration of what television and talent that trusts in itself can do, all tipped out in one gorgeous, unstoppable rush. Watching it was like plunging down the Reichenbach Falls.
Missed you.
The Guardian, “Sherlock’s back and it’s fast, fun, flashy, fantastic,” [x] (via thecutteralicia)
this is sherlock after he took enough drugs to overdose, then read john’s blog entry about meeting him, and then waited as his literal death approached
REMEMBER WHEN WE JUST THOUGHT HE WAS CRYING WHAT SWEET SUMMER CHILDREN WE WERE, TOO INNOCENT, TOO PURE
