Last Sunday, I saw the Sherlock series 3 finale (I would've written about it before now, but I've been unwell). Titled His Last Vow and penned by Steven Moffat, a man famous for inflicting various kinds of pain on his longsuffering devotees, this episode was most anxiously entered in upon. But it did not disappoint, and, at least in my opinion, it caused more joy than pain.
I've been struggling to decide what to blog about in the heady aftermath of last week's episode. Let's see, I said to myself. Should my post be just focused on His Last Vow, or should I debrief the whole season? Should I talk about the excellent writing? The directing? The heroic leanings that Sherlock possesses to which only he is blind? Mind palaces? An exploration of the causes, justifications, and effects of dishonesty?
This is an incredibly psychologically, artistically, and emotionally complex show that deserves to be lauded for its many superiorities and discussed for the complicated issues that it often introduces. The task of choosing the topic which can be used to most thoroughly explore the high points of this series and episode proved to be far from easy.
So, in the end, I went with a title naming an idea which I think reaches all the way back to the first episode - Him of All Men.
In A Study in Pink, Sherlock's premiere episode, John Watson, a war veteran known to be suffering from trust issues, is asked, "Could it be that you have decided to trust Sherlock Holmes, of all people?" And indeed, as the show's drama unfolds, it becomes clear that John Watson has chosen for his best, closest, and most trusted friend the socially inept, supposedly sociopathic, insensitive, and unpredictable Sherlock Holmes.
Him of all men.
Likewise, surrounded by people he feels incapable of understanding, respecting, or caring for even remotely, Sherlock chooses to be Watson's protector. Throughout the course of the nine episodes, Sherlock places John's interests further and further before his own, vowing to do whatever it takes to guard Watson and his family from all that would seek to harm them, and delivering on his promise. Concern for his friend, for John Watson, is enough to shatter Sherlock's composure and lead him to acknowledge his shortcomings. It's probably even enough to drag Sherlock back from death's door.
Him of all men.
Of all men, Sherlock is chosen by Jim Moriarty as an ideal sparring partner, the perfect foil to Jim's schemes.
Of all men, Sherlock becomes the obsession of the emotionally detached Irene Adler.
After years of facing all manner of psychopaths and all forms of soulless despicability, Sherlock is most disgusted by Charles Magnusson, a comparatively harmless newsman who keeps situations going the way he wants them to through skilled blackmailing.
Him of all men.
It is in instances like these that the masterfulness of the show shines through especially clearly. Each one of these choices, the isolation of one above all else, creates conflict, character development, and questions to be pondered. Why does John choose to trust Sherlock? Why does Sherlock so greatly abhor Magnusson? What is the difference between Magnusson and the other criminal masterminds who seem more to fascinate the great detective than incite him?
The stories are intricately woven, with obvious cooperation between the three writers leading to great foreshadowing and continuity. To watch these writers (Steven Moffat in particular) talk about their scripts and storylines is immensely enjoyable. They obviously glean so much excitement, satisfaction, and fulfillment from this show that their enthusiasm becomes unavoidably infectious. The devotion to original Doyle plots and dialogues and painstakingly exact transference of the classics into a modern setting provide more evidence of the creators' love of Doyle's work even than their own fanboy testimonies. They chose Sherlock as their hero, as the character they would recreate and revitalize in the most skilled and respectful way possible, and even if it does take them a ridiculously long amount of time they have and will continue to faithfully and awesomely depict him in his newest setting.
Him of all men.
These are just a few of many things our poor fandom will have to think about over the coming long months and possibly even years of the third hiatus. While the show heads have mentioned an ideal release date of this Christmas for series 4 (which would be BEYOND amazing, by the way) they all seem doubtful that such a "short" hiatus will actually be accomplishable. Moffat has apparently said more recently that it's more likely we won't be getting new episodes or a resolution to our shiny new cliffhanger until 2016.
I've said it before, I'll say it again: This ain't an easy fandom to be in. But we Sherlockians will stick with it to whatever end. Why?
Because this character, this flawed, often irritating, more often awkward and insensitive character, is one we have chosen to devote ourselves to. We'll wait it out, we'll wait out every hiatus, because we know that at the end of the wait he'll be back to make us laugh, make us ache, make us cheer, make us cringe, and come out a better, more developed character that we can root for.
I know I sound like a broken record. Say it with me anyway:
Him of all men.
~Pearl Clayton
*squeals like a really geeky girl*
ReplyDeleteI didn't think about the Magnusson thing. I would think that Sherlock hates him so much just because he was a threat to Mary, BUT Moriarty strapped a bomb to John (and if we're totally honest here, the only reason Sherlock cares about Mary is because he knows John cares about her), and I think that's rather more threatening, somehow. ;-) Why do you suppose he has such contempt for Magnusson?
And yes. Him of all men.
I don't know why he hates Magnusson so much. My first thought was that it has to do with Magnusson's ability to control people, but again, Moriarty controlled tons of people.
DeleteMaybe Moriarty never used blackmail. It's possible that what so disgusts Sherlock is that Magnusson finds people's secrets and weaknesses and then exploits them. Moriarty charms people with his promises and his Irish accent, so they willingly follow him into ruin. Magnusson forces people to do what he wants by threatening them with their deepest insecurities. Sherlock guards his secrets and his insecurities closely. Just look at the whole Redbeard thing: Sherlock loved his dog. Sherlock's love for his dog caused him heartbreak. Now Sherlock has chosen to forsake emotion, and then all of a sudden Magnusson casually threw out Redbeard's name in conversation. Magnusson toys with Sherlock's discarded emotions as though he has a right to them, and Sherlock feels like he doesn't.
Then lastly there's the fact that Moriarty was so much more polite than Magnusson, in a manner of speaking. When Moriarty visited 221B, he came as a guest and acted as a guest. Magnusson waltzed in like he owned the place, and..... did..... that one thing he did. And while the bomb-strapping incident was more threatening and violent than Magnusson's face-flicking, somehow the face-flicking felt more cruel, because it robbed John of his dignity in a way that the bomb-strapping really didn't.
To sum up, I see it essentially like this: Moriarty had power, and he flaunted that power, but he also respected it, and he respected Sherlock. Magnusson believed that his power made him better than everyone and gave him the right to do absolutely anything he wanted, a belief that became his downfall when his thoughtless antics ultimately pushed Sherlock to the breaking point.
BOY was that a longwinded response to your question. But those are my feelings, take them or leave them.