It’s difficult to beat the hype that comes with a new season of BBC’s hit show Sherlock. After all, with two entire years in between each season of only three episodes, there’s plenty of chance to build the anticipation, form your own deductions, and obsess over your favourite characters. As such, come January it’s as if a dam of barely controlled fandom activity finally bursts, sweeping across television and the internet on a three-week-long festival of new content. Longtime fans of the series can always count on fresh and intriguing plots to keep them on the edge of their seats. But not this time.
So let’s cut to the chase. We waited two years for this mess? I’m sorry on behalf of all of us fans out there, but there was a ball that got dropped somewhere in pre-production, and the writers never bothered to pick it up again.
Sherlock has been accurately described as the largest, most expensive piece of fan fiction ever created, and it pulled off its modern-day take on the story and characters incredibly well, paying homage to Doyle’s original vision with skill and aplomb while also sneaking in all the charm of a well-written fic. But honestly, what happened to season four? The story took a turn from glorious and well-executed tribute from veteran screenwriters Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat to something seemingly written by a falsely-edgy twelve-year-old. The series’ reliance on overdone plots and unbelievable (not as in incredible, as in I-actually-could-not-bring-myself-to-believe-them) scenarios caused the show to lose its main attraction: the cleverness.
Did they decide to forego the intricate deductions and take some cues from the dreaded George R. R. Martin instead? It’s as if the writers decided to incorporate every single aspect of novice story mistakes, everything new writers are warned to steer hard away from.
I’m not saying that there was unnecessary character death — but SPOILER: there was. I’m not saying that our favourite doctor, arguably the only competent person in the entire show, went severely OOC (that’s ‘out of character’ for those of you unfamiliar with one of the biggest sins in fan fiction) — but SPOILER: he did. I’m not saying that the entire climax was hinged on one of the biggest no-nos in story writing (I mean seriously, amnesia? Moffat and Gatiss, aren’t you better than this) — but SPOILER: it most definitely was.
That being said, the second episode was absolutely golden, but bookended as it was by those two monstrosities, it could not entirely redeem the series. As a dedicated fan, season four left me saddened and bitter. Having experienced everything I love about Sherlock thrown aside, I have only this to say: please BBC, quit now — not while you’re ahead (because you most definitely aren’t), but before you utterly ruin my every memory of this once-great show.
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