Sunday night found me glued to the telly — I’ll say telly, because it’s a BBC production — watching the first of three episodes of Sherlock, a Masterpiece Mystery, which just aired in my neck of Canadaland. Oh, my. Not your mama’s Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock, the self-proclaimed detective consultant. This was a brainy, broody, funny, texting Holmes for the new century. I have to confess that Benedict Cumberbatch had not come across my radar before Sunday night. What? Was I living under a rock? He has now, and I won’t be forgetting him anytime soon ever.
Then, there’s back from the Afghanistan War, suffering from post traumatic stress disorder Dr. John Watson, portrayed by Martin Freeman. Hello! Yeah. Not your mama’s Dr. Watson either.
And, Rupert Graves as DI Lestrade. No buffoon, this Lestrade.
It is fast-paced, at times dark, and purely entertaining.
Cumberbatch, Freeman, Graves — it’s like watching Sherlock Holmes with pheromones.
I’m counting the days until the next episode.
Are you a Holmes fan? Have you seen the new Sherlock? Inquiring minds — okay, me — want to know.