The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes: The Dying Detective

 "Mr Holmes, you are the very worst tenant in London!"

Sigh. This second episode is better than the first. Jeremy Brett is, of course, superb as the strangely indifferent and, eventually, ill Holmes- or seemingly so. The cast is unusually strong, even if a very young Hugh Bonneville is going by "Richard" here. Roy Hudd is delightful as a ne'er-do-well. It all looks very good. And yet... it's all fundamentally misconceived.

The Dying Detective works well as a short story, but the short stoty works only because it essentially consists of what we see as the final scenes here, as Holmes pretends to be dying so the gullible Culverton Smith can, like a Bond villain, confess. To fit a fifty minute episode we need to have a long, awkward, preambe to establish the context. This is unfortunate, and not only because the denoument becomes rather obvious if we understand what has led up to it. Holmes behaviour, too, in refusing to suspect Culverton Smith (until he does) feels awkward and too blatantly plot driven. It's odd, too, that he would take up the case of yet another opium addict husband; the apparent encouragement of hs cousin would not make the case sufficiently interesting.

As a result, the episode may be well-made but fundamentally doesn't work. The short story needs to be a short vignette in order to work. Expanding it to a full fifty minute episode simply doesn't work.

Still, I'm glad they kept in Homes' apparent fear of oysters...

House of Cards: Episode 4

“DADDY...!”

I’m blogging rather more series than I usually would as the wife and I have started y and Good Omens while I’m also blogging The Prisoner and Inhumans. Time to finish at least one series off.

So, this is the final episode, if we ignore the sequel and, indeed, the American remake which I haven’t seen. It concludes, interestingly, very differently from the novel, with Urquhart successfully reaching the top of the greasiest pole in politics, and we have the fun of seeing him first take out his minor rivals for the leadership and then Woolton (a cassette tape of his affair with Penny- easy) and Samuels (lefty positions in his university day, including, shock horror, “pro-gay sentiments”) in quick succession.

There’s a lot more to it that that, of course. Urquhart’s announcement that he’s standing is swiftly followed by a tastefully shot sex scene in which Mattie shouts “Daddy!”, and he continues to manipulate her throughout, making her all contrite as he tells her off for apparently endangering herself with her investigations. This sort of thing could look like harmless kink in snatcher context but it isn’t- this is disturbing manipulation and gaslighting of a woman with real feelings to exploit, and Urquhart’s monologue to camera on father’s and daughters (I note he has no kids) is incredibly disturbing.

Also dealt on, rightly, is his cunning murder of Roger, full of deft manipulation, and I’m glad Roger’s moving Death is dwelt upon. He was a man of promise, once. Then cocaine happened. And his death leaves poor a Penny absolutely devastated, especially as she’s just dumped him.

But what lingers is his cold-blooded murder of Mattie, mere seconds as she’s told him “I love you, Daddy”. These four episodes are a perfect portrait of a psychopath, one with all the charm such people tend to possess. And Westminster is, I suspect, full of such personalities to this day.

House of Cards: Episode 3

"His deepest need was that people should like him. An admirable trait, that... in a spaniel, or a whore. Not, I think, in a prime minister."

This episode, after we’ve seen the details of the PM’s fall, immediately moves beyond- there’s an emergency Cabinet meeting, introduced with one of Urquhart’s asides to camera, and that’s it; the PM has resigned, and the starting gun has fired on the leadership race- although I believe there’s a constitutional blunder here. Collingridge hasn’t resigned as PM yet, just announced he will be stepping down when the Tories elect a new leader. So why is he going to the Palace?

Still, it’s fun as ever to see the wheel turning. The departing PM, in his final Cabibet meeting, actually thanks Francis for his support. And Francis implicates the viewers into his scheming with our voyeurism- “Not feeling guilty, I hope?”.

Francis is, of course, not yet in a position to run and needs to manipulate others- not least the infatuated Mattie- into “persuading” him. Others are in a less happy position- Charles Coleridge is suicidal, and it’s interesting that we are given a script with the two brothers sobbing, collateral damage in Urquhart’s wake. This is contrasted with Francis kissing Mattie, the camera pulling away and.. well, the next time we see him he exclaims “No! There are some things a gentleman never discussed!” It’s a nice touch.

Francis still needs building up into a plausible candidate and the clock is ticking, as his dinner with newspaper proprietor Ben makes clear. But Francis has influence, manipulating Collingridge into making it a long contest to his own advantage. Meanwhile Mattie continues to investigate the PM’s fall, irritating those in high places, and ends up getting the sack in a remarkably and openly sexist way which, one hopes, would not fly these days. Worse, she gets a nasty shock with a brick through her window and a threatening note, and not even her friend John, well and truly friend-zones, can remove the fear. No; it falls to Francis to “comfort” her. And she calls him “Daddy”...!

This is a superb adaptation, metatextual, clever, and far deeper than the original novel.

House of Cards: Episode 2

"Would you be into quickies at all?"

If this were to be made today, perhaps- and I haven't seen the American remake with Kevin Spacey- there wouldn't be so much attention on ho the sausage was made. We'd likely jump cut straight from his downfall being plotted at the end of last episode to the PM's downfall. But in 1990 telly could be slower paced, at least sometimes. This episode is an example of why that can be a good thing.

In contrast to the twisty-turny plotting of the first episode, we are concerned here pretty much exclusively with the workings of Urquhart's plot to bring down Henry Collingridge and very little else- but it's gripping. And we get the usual fourth wall breaking stuff, with an early monologue by Francis doing a bit of that pheasant shooting stuff that was an unremarked-upon pastime of upper class Tories back then. 1990 was a long time ago, when twentysomething political researchers could plausibly be called Kevin and, as per last episode, there's a fair bit of misogyny directed towards Penny. Urquhart does, at least, criticise Patrick Woolton for being boorish, lecherous, anti-Semitic and racist while manipulating him, although there's more than a whiff of snobbery directed at this north country foreign secretary.

Urquhart's manipulating ways work on everyone, culminating in the PM being cruelly ambushed on telly, yet everyone seems to think he's a "good man". Indeed, Mattie seems to think he's not only the ablest man (and men they all are) in the Cabinet but that he's attractive- and, as we see, he has permission from his wife to sleep with her. Shagging is inevitable at this point.

Like the potboiler on which it's based, this is unputdownable telly. And Ian Richardson is incredible.

House of Cards: Episode 1

"You may think that. I couldn't possibly comment..."

Long before Kevin Spacey was a household name, let alone disgraced, Ian Richardson became a household name through his extraordinarily sinister, fourth wall breaking, insidious performance as Francis Urquhart. I haven't seen this since that late Autumn of 1990 when Thatcher fell, the only prime minister I could remember. This TV adaptation of Michael Dobbs' potboiler of a novel cheekily alludes to her downfall in its opening shot, an early example of the visual wit that made this series a cut above the original novel.

Other differences are that the party in power is explicitly stated to be the Tories, an of course the asides to camera which give the whole thing both its structure and its intimacy. Urquhart is not just our antihero, he is our intimate guide to the dark arts of politics. If Mattie is seduced by his charms then so are we all, even an old Liberal like me.

It's an uncomfortable reminder of my age, though, that I remember lots of things that happened in 1990, but they did things differently then. Here we see casual sexism and homophobia in the corridors of power, MP's actually speaking in the Commons without notes, an all-male cabinet and smoking everywhere.

But the episode insists entirely of skulduggery and plotting, and all from our Chief Whip’s point of view as he manipulates the wet drip of a PM (although I not that Henry Collingridge, a “wet” Tory, is depicted as wet personally too), his cocaine using fixer, the Cabinet and, through Mattie, the press. The relationship with Mattie is interesting: in a sense he’s grooming her, all for his own benefit. We end with a manufactured scandal about to break and the PM set to fall...