Episode 01, The Empty Hearse is a disaster. Episode 02, The Sign of Three. The robot has been humanised. The superhero has been stripped of his cape. The sexy beast has been tamed. Bravo, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. Brilliant use of self-deprecating humour without compromising on the inane badassery of Sherlock. "You are not a puzzle solver, you never have been. You are a drama queen." A little in-house joke, perhaps?
Episode 03, The Last Vow has little doses of everything: romedy [the Twilight generation's hybridology for romance and comedy] punctuated with drama, further interspaced with bouts of melodrama, domestic hiccups and eventual reconciliation, startling blast-from-the-past exposition, psychic deductions, anecdotal childhood reminiscences, Jai-Veeru bromance, sanskari parivar, defiantly illogical and sensational back-from-the-dead theatrics. It was a crackerjack entertainer chockablocked with unabashed fanservice and umpteen OM(beep)G moments. All the episode needed were an item number and a khooni-darinda instead of a suave, intelligent adversary, and there you have it, a full-blown wholesome Bollywood experience. The human Sherlock takes a step back and allows Watson to be his equal, which the latter gladly obliges. Kyunki, Pyaar ke aage Yaar hain [with due apologies to Mountain Dew]. Finally, the unforeseen return of the Napolean of crime, a rather unsuspected leap from Sherlock's eerie imagination into the real world. An adorable limerick symphonist and the very next moment, an operatic attention-junkie. I'm not sure if I missed him but he sure did miss the spotlight. Wait till 2015 to find out how he could have possibly survived his suicide. Is he a time-traveler? Is he Jesus? Or is he an in-house resident of the Matrix Universe? Overall, it's safe to conclude that I was more Watson-ed than Sherlock-ed.
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