This network TV season has been so dismal, I'm flabbergasted. I'm talking about the new shows. There's almost nothing (Raising Hope is cute). Is there some kind of virus going around Hollywood that's exhausted all creativity? Even the new J.J. Abrams show Undercovers is like a lame rip-off of a J.J. Abrams show. What's going on? I was in complete despair until I accidentally tumbled upon Sherlock. Reading the promo, I didn't have high hopes, let me tell you. I mean, another retelling of the Sherlock Holmes tale? Come on! So imagine my shock when I'm finding myself having some serious fun.
Sherlock is not from Hollywood. It's a co-production of BBC Wales and WGBH for PBS's Masterpiece Mystery. The co-creators are two writers from the Russell T. Davies re-imagined Doctor Who series. And it's a little Doctor Who, a little graphic novel, a little Arthur Conan Doyle. At this point, I dread telling you the premise because it might turn you off: Sherlock is now a modern guy with a nicotine addiction instead of heroin and he's a sociopath; Watson is an ex-army doctor who saw action in Afghanistan. Now here's the fun stuff: smart dialog, rapid-fire delivery, great chemistry between Benedict Cumberbatch (Sherlock) and Martin Freeman (Watson), a charming Rupert Graves as a hopeless detective, and a wonderfully batty Mrs. Hudson (Una Stubbs) who keeps singing, "Just this once, dear — I'm not your housekeeper!"
But see for yourself: