February 3, 2017

“…and for the last bloody time, John, I'm not your housekeeper!”



~Mrs. Hudson

Sherlock Holmes series 4 was having something of a moment - a mind bending fourth outing of the much acclaimed BBC series. Trashed, beaten, and hung out to dry by the critics, I have remained rather fond of the series and its cast.

Penned by an award-winning team, Holmes and Watson have been re-imagined for the twenty-first century.  The writing has been breathtakingly original and utterly hilarious. 


Policeman: 
Do you have *any* idea what speed you were going at?
Mrs. Hudson: 
No, of course not! I was on the phone.



Quite clearly, this is not a Holmes and Watson for purists, but it is one of the funniest programs I've followed for ages. It's quirky, witty, and fast-paced and, whilst unmistakably irreverent, manages to tug its forelock in the direction of the Conan-Doyle creation on which it depends.

It's gifted physical comedy, as well as cleverly scripted, and I could not think of a better, quicker way of catapulting myself out of the beginning of the New Year slough of despondency than to have spent a few hours watching this unique show.



And so, on to “The Fabulous Baker Street Babes (fast cars & loose cardigans?)” episode 1.









I am reading...

  • scribble, scribble, scribble, Simon Schama
  • Julia's Cats, Patricia Barey and Therese Burson
  • London, Edward Rutherfurd
  • I'll Drink to That, Betty Halbreich