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I knew I was right to take the bus... *mwaha*
Well, I got these links from a friend, and I chuckled so heartily that I'm sharing now.
I don't know the company, but they bought an excellent campaign.
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Watching Sherlock (Series 1, Episode1)

A year after the first episode (the one that became the pilot) was shot, the team was back to work on a new version of A Study in Pink.

From the start, the tone is different. We land in a noisy nightmare; Dr John Watson (Martin Freeman) is reliving the moment he was injured. Even if you don’t know what’s going on because you’ve never read the original A Study in Scarlet, the war scene gets your attention.

When John wakes up and frees himself from the nightmare, the camera makes him look younger, lost, afraid (and I always wish he could get a hug because he seriously looks like he needs one). It’s a very moving scene.

The bed, made with military precision tells us that sleep was gone for good, and once the bed’s made, there’s nothing for John to do but wait for dawn.

John’s breakfast is very interesting because his mug informs us that he was not just a soldier, he was an army doctor, and the doctor is eating an apple (all right, that can make a quick and un-messy breakfast, but I see this – and I might well be smoking the lawn, I know – as a tiny sign that John’s done dealing with his colleagues because to be invalidated from Afghanistan, he must have been thoroughly probed by his fellows. It wouldn’t be the first time that an apple’s turned into a doctor joke) – or he can’t afford real breakfast.

When John takes his laptop from his desk drawer, there’s his gun in it, which is quite odd, but I’m sure some administrative mistake could well explain why the good doctor is still in possession of his weapon.

Once the computer is on, we get to see an empty blog, but a blog that looks like something that could really be found online. I’d like to pause one tiny moment here in order to thank whoever had the idea to create the webpages for John’s blog (http://www.johnwatsonblog.co.uk/), Sherlock's website (http://www.thescienceofdeduction.co.uk/) and the few other pages that are referenced on the BBC’s Sherlock page. It’s quite a lot of work to entertain us, fans, and it’s really nice. I’ve never seen such a thing done for any other series I follow, and I think it’s a part of the huge dedication of the ones who work on Sherlock (so if one of you working on that ever reads this… Thank you!!!).

Next, we catch John attempting to lie to his psychotherapist, Ella (Tanya Moodie), but she’s not to be fooled. Their scene together is now very slightly expanded to show John’s distrust and possible paranoia, but she’s encouraging and tries to find a way to help John.

Of course, forced-to-civilian-life John utters his own version of famous last words; he’s not going to die, but boring life is about to become a thing of the past. He doesn’t have to be on a battlefield to feel alive – all he needs is Sherlock.

The definitive opening credits are superb. From that opening onwards, music almost becomes a character in itself (David Arnold and Michael Price did an astounding job).

Then, the next scene isn’t about John, or Sherlock. “October 12^th” appears on a background that tells us that we’re in London where a woman, Helen (Siobhan Hewlett), is telling her boss (and lover), Sir Jeffrey Patterson (William Scott-Masson), to ‘get a cab’ since the company’s car went to Waterloo and can’t pick him up. Immediately afterwards, the man is seen in a building, opening a bottle filled with odd-looking pills (transparent capsules with white and red tiny beads – now, my sweets, that might well be mint and sugar inside, but it looks scary), and he takes one whilst looking really distraught. We see him convulse and die in some empty office space overlooking the city as the voice of his widow (Victoria Wicks) takes us to the statement she’s making to the press after the event.

One journalist seems interested in the crying Helen. As we see her tears fall, the scene moves to a street, at night, in the rain, on “November 26^th”. There, two young men are being soaked in spite of their shared umbrella, and one of the two, James Phillimore (James Duncan), decides to head home to get another umbrella. However, he ends up killing himself in a sports centre; he used the same pills we saw earlier.

We move to “January 27^th” and Beth Davenport’s (Katy Maw) birthday party, where two of her political advisors take her car keys to prevent her from attempting to drive after too many drinks. She ends up taking one of the infamous pills, too.

For the moment, the pills seem to be the only clue, but as in any well-planned mystery, we were given more than that: in fact, later in the episode we’ll get to see the full connection, with each victim falling into the clutches of their murderer. The main clue we had was the reaction of each victim as he, or she, swallowed the pill; they looked too afraid and sad for it to be done willingly.

Since the poison’s the same, the Police caught on (well, when I say “caught on”, I mean that they’ve noticed that there was something fishy, but the cases are still called “apparent suicides”).

Sergeant Sally Donovan (Vinette Robinson) is introducing a press conference. DI Lestrade (Rupert Graves) is trying to answer the journalists’ questions, but they’re genuinely (and rightfully) puzzled by the concept of serial suicides. As Lestrade tries to explain that, basically, there has to be a connection between the victims, we get all the mobiles in the room getting texts at the same time – a text, the same text, declaring to all that Lestrade’s “Wrong!”.

This moment brings us to pure genius, with the texts received on mobiles (and later data from computer, as well) seen directly on screen. Whoever came up with that idea to avoid focussing on mobile screens (that were too small anyway) deserves a prize or something (or a pound of Belgian pralines at least). It was brilliant, and it works beautifully!

Donovan, who knows the texts must come from Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch), tries to have the journalists ignore the texts – yet, she’s quite concerned about what the Daily Mail might have to say about the inquiry. In the pre-Leveson UK, this was a glimpse of the power of the press, where a Scotland Yard DI can’t tell journalists to use their brains (and not start a town-wide panic, thank you very much).

Since he’s somehow disrupted the meeting, Sherlock can send Lestrade a private message to offer his help, and Lestrade might be annoyed, but he knows he needs Sherlock. Right after the conference, Donovan complains about the one who makes them look like idiots and asks her superior to make him stop, but Lestrade points out that no one knows how he manages to orchestrate his little demonstrations of disdainful brilliance.

Since the opening credits, the scenes had been rolling the one into the next, and we’ve got at last a true transition as we go back to John, walking fast through a park. He definitely looks as if he’s got to get somewhere (or is in a hurry to avoid being out amongst people), but he’s recognized and stopped by his fellow, Mike Stamford (David Nellist).

In the novel, Stamford was a dresser under Watson at Barts, and he’s been upgraded to doctor status now, which gives him more freedom – and probably a quicker access to Sherlock.

In Conan Doyle’s work, the two acquaintances meet at the Criterion bar and have lunch on the spot; now, they meet in a park and share a cup of coffee there, but the name we can read on the cups is Criterion (in twisted ways sometimes, we’re never far from canon in this series).

Mike asks John about his plans (the whole situation makes John so tense that his dominant hand painfully goes into spasm), and “Harry” is mentioned for the first time.

Mike mentions a flatshare, which John thinks impossible to find since he’s a grumbling ex-army doctor who’s got to live on an army pension and who’s disillusioned. John’s lucky that just earlier that morning Sherlock had told Mike he thought he could never find a flatmate.

John’s fate is sealed: he’s going to go meet a potential flatmate.

The one who was talking with Mike earlier is still at Barts, in the spacious and modern morgue, opening a body bag and giving its contents an expert sniff: we’re meeting Sherlock at last. Apparently, he needs to test a theory about some crime on the body of a former employee, whom the pathologist, Molly Hooper (Louise Brealey), knew.

Sherlock's use of a riding crop in the morgue is definitely one of the details that catches everybody’s attention in A Study in Scarlet. Now, the weird factor goes through Molly’s facial expressions (we don’t get to see what Benedict Cumberbatch hit for real, but, behind the morgue’s window, Louise Brealey makes faces that make it look as if the act’s really violent – and she’s supposed to be a pathologist! Ah… an enthusiastic Sherlock shall not be stopped).

Molly’s got a particular (morgue-y?) sense of humour that Sherlock isn’t equipped to detect and appreciate, but even if she’s doomed to fail at getting Sherlock's attention for real (for the moment, at least), there’s one thing she isn’t: she’s no coward, and she does try to invite him on a date (and Sherlock's too socially inept to understand the actual question). Her crush on Sherlock might lead her nowhere, but she’ll keep trying (and she’ll keep being a great friend).

She’s a strong, witty, caring and fascinating new addition to the plot.

In his exchange with Molly, Sherlock speaks very fast when he’s got something to share; in this revision of the episode, be it for time or for artistic reasons, our dear Sherlock now has his lines delivery on fast forward. Sherlock's brain’s a supersonic, and his speech follows suit when he’s got something he deems important to say; that works very well.

Sherlock's counting on Molly to text the results of the riding crop whipping, and he went to a lab in order to experiment on something; Mike and John find him there.

Simply by walking into the room, John’s already revealed a lot to Sherlock, and when John lends Sherlock his mobile, the latter’s ready to gloat and tell John what he’s deduced about him.

We have a short Molly interruption when she brings the ordered coffee and she gets a critic of some sort for having got rid of the lipstick noticed by Sherlock in the prior scene. Disappointed, but unfazed (she must know Sherlock and his ways by heart by now), she leaves.

Out of the blue – for John – Sherlock wants to know how he feels about violin playing. Mike, as the mutual friend, has a great little smile that says “Yes! I did it! Sherlock and John are going to be flatmates!”.

Sherlock's really not fully connected to the real world sometimes because he agrees to become John’s flatmate, but the average mortal’s not a Sherlock (or a seer!) and as John rightfully points out, he doesn’t know his future flatmate’s name or where they’re to meet the next day to see their flat.

Sherlock's slight coat swirling is very nice in this scene when he turns back to John to explain all the things he’s gathered about him in a couple of minutes and before giving his name and the address.

John heads to his place, reads Sherlock's cryptic message sent with his mobile (we can see John navigate to it. Did I say it was a brilliant idea to have the text on screen?); it’s a reference to a case explained on Sherlock's website (did I already say that I really appreciate those pages?), and he starts investigating his future flatmate on the Internet (on a fictitious search engine: Quest search).

Then, the lady-in-pink, Jennifer Wilson (Louise Breckon-Richards), comes on stage as we see her pick the bottle of poison pills from the floor. She’s shaking, and we know she’s going to die.

Up to now, the bottles have always contained several pills.

John’s walking to 221B Baker Street as Sherlock arrives in a cab. Next to their door, there’s Speedy’s Sandwich Bar & Café (if, like in the pilot, the place had still belonged to their landlady, Mrs Hudson (Una Stubbs) perhaps she’d have been able to feed the boys more easily, but it’s funnier to have Sherlock and John having to fend like true modern bachelors).

The director, Paul McGuigan, filmed this scene with more space between the camera (us) and John and Sherlock. That way it doesn’t look crowded and as if there was a third person involved.

The original Holmes and Watson are brought to the 21^st century and will start calling each other Sherlock and John: logical update.

Wardrobe dropped the dress from the 1960s for Mrs Hudson, but I’m still not sure about that colour though...

Now, the living-room wallpapers (plural in the new version) look as if they exploded over several decades (there are typical examples of designs that were popular in the 60s, 70s and 80s – I should know, my living-room is a time-capsule of its own). The set’s very different and we’ve lost the mirror above the mantelpiece, which is a real pity because that poor room needs all the light and depth it can get now.

When Mrs Hudson asks John if he’ll want his own bedroom, the poor doctor is completely at sea. The idea that in today’s London two bachelors moving in together might share a lot more than the rent isn’t farfetched at all and it’s good fun that the writers decided to keep that misunderstanding and to play with it. Mrs Hudson whispering that her fellow landlady next door has a gay couple for tenants is a good way to show that she doesn’t care what Sherlock and John plan to do behind closed doors at night, and it helps John spot the beginning of a very long line of misunderstandings of the same nature (Martin Freeman briefly looks at Benedict Cumberbatch as if to say ‘Care to enlighten me and share something, Mr Holmes?’).

Mrs Hudson will keep claiming that she’s not the housekeeper, but with Sherlock around and his natural tendencies towards mess, she starts cleaning up – a bit.

When John announces that he’s found Sherlock's website and looks utterly dubious about his flatmate’s ability to decipher so much about people, Sherlock looks lost for a second.

John doesn’t seem to believe that Sherlock can identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb. Apart from the fact that it’s exactly the kind of thing one can expect from Sherlock Holmes, we’ve got an airline captain and his thumb now where we had a retired plumber and his left hand in the pilot; I can’t help thinking that this might be a reference of some sort to John Finnemore’s Cabin Pressure in which Benedict Cumberbatch plays Captain Martin Crieff (I’m probably over-analysing, but I want to believe the change is a reference and a nod).

Here, we reach a tiny detail that really gets my neurones in a twist (and we already have it in the pilot). I may be wrong (and there are times when 221b will look like an open space in the coming episodes), but how does Lestrade get in?

If the door is locked (no one leaves a street door open in a capital city. Well… maybe in Tokyo, but we’re in London here) and Mrs Hudson is with Sherlock and John on the first floor, there’s no one to open the ground floor door. [I know it’s telly and that’s a fiction, but I’m not saying I believe it’s real, I’m just saying there’s a tiny plot-hole, or there’s something we don’t know and Lestrade was a burglar in another incarnation]

Apparently, the lady-in-pink just broke the serial suicides’ pattern by leaving a note, and Lestrade needs Sherlock's brain.

When Sherlock leaves, he orders food from Mrs Hudson and ignores her when she reminds him that she’s not his housekeeper. He puts his coat on and takes his scarf – and his burglar kit (essential tool to go to a crime scene with police officers who hate you).

John shouts at Mrs Hudson for mentioning his leg (and his uselessness in his mind), but good education takes over and he apologizes. He and Sherlock are a bit “birds of a feather”, because he asks for biscuits with his tea while Mrs Hudson only offered to make a cuppa.

In the meantime, Sherlock's brain finally registered that he doesn’t have to suffer through exposure to the Yard’s coroner, Anderson (Jonathan Aris); he now lives with a very good ex-army doctor.

You know, my saying that our boys are a bit “birds of a feather”? Scratch that. They tick the same way, but in different languages, and John agrees to follow Sherlock to Merlin-knows-what just for the sake of not staying home, having tea with their landlady.

Thanks to the commentaries on the DVD, we discover that when Sherlock and John exit their home they froze for a moment in order to have the shoulder-held camera put on a crane. We get a splendid view of the street as the cab that Sherlock just hailed drives away.

While on their way to the crime scene, Sherlock tells John how he made his deductions about him the day before. This time, Benedict Cumberbatch’s line delivery is much quicker than in the pilot and it’s got a nice violin music theme that works very well in this scene. Right in the end of his longest explanation, Benedict Cumberbatch exhales (because after such long lines he’s got to be in serious need of oxygen); it’s becoming a Sherlock trait: important information requests to roll off the tongue as fast as possible.

John’s deeply impressed with Sherlock, and Sherlock's deeply surprised that John’s not telling him to “piss off”. They were made to be flatmates.

However, Sherlock's in for a surprise since the Harry he thought was John’s brother is his sister, Harriet (Sherlock's not always right, which makes him a tad more human).

Once they reach the crime scene, they’re welcomed by Donovan, who shows her hatred for Sherlock.

The coroner, Anderson, looks much better shaved (it was a pity to hide him under a beard in the pilot).

John’s none too discreet look at Donovan’s knees right after Sherlock outed the illegitimate couple is absolutely hilarious (it’d be nice if we could get to read how that was described in the script).

It’s very clear that in a real crime scene, Anderson wouldn’t allow Sherlock to walk around without a forensic suit, but it looks much better to have everybody in suits, but Sherlock.

Now, we get to read Sherlock's ideas as he analyses the scene (by the way, did I say how great an idea this is?).

Now that the story is expanded, the lady-in-pink helps get a great plot-twist. Before dying, she scratched on the wooden floor “Rache”, which Sherlock dismisses as being at attempt to leave a message in German since it means “revenge”. Anderson drops by to gloat and show that he can deduce things about a case, but Sherlock closes the door to his face, puzzling Lestrade in the process. Sherlock has deduced that the victim was trying to write “Rachel”, and he considers that they must find whoever that is (because Lestrade has to believe that it’s Sherlock's who’s right). What’s really interesting in the writing is that it’s inverting the original plot where the inspector in charge thinks that his Lauriston Garden’s victim wanted to write “Rachel” in order to incriminate a woman, while Sherlock points out that the German word for revenge is connected to crimes that have been committed in the United States. Our dear writers are complete fans, and they use canon data in their updates in a beautiful, twisted way.

There are two surprising things: first, the victim’s got a white umbrella now (who misplaced the pink one from the pilot?!), and then Sherlock's theory about the wedding ring is slightly disappointing (the inside of mine looks shinier because I keep turning it, not because I entertain a string of lovers and need to work it off my finger). If you’re going to point out the state of cleaning of the various pieces of jewellery, grimes on a wedding ring with stones would work much better.

There’s one thing in the room that I absolutely love, and it’s one barmy detail. The house’s practically empty, but there’s a statue on the floor by the fireplace in the room with the victim. It’s a white rabbit (I call it the “Brixton plot bunny”).

Sherlock realizes that they’re dealing with a serial killer who must have left with his victim’s suitcase. He abandons John to go hunt for the suitcase, and Donovan tells John that Sherlock's a psychopath who’ll start killing when helping in investigations will no longer be enough. Vinette Robinson’s absolutely astounding, and she makes her character’s disgust for Sherlock very efficiently clear.

John hops away from the crime scene, looking for a cab…

And the phones started ringing.

It’s a very good thing that John’s not a cat (and that he’s one of the two heroes), but he definitely needs to watch more films! However, John really had to meet someone who’s powerful enough to control the street cameras and who’s been following John.

The whole situation is deliciously mysterious. We have a big, black luxury car; we have a beautiful lady pretending that her name’s Anthea (Lisa Mcallister) and she’s glued to her blackberry as they drive to some mysterious destination.  We’re deliciously left wondering what’s going on.

The mysterious man who’d phoned John has staged everything to have a quiet talk with him in a deserted hangar. He’s standing, waiting for John, and there’s just one chair that’s offered to John (if he agreed to sit down, he’d find himself in an inferior position; his leg might hurt, but he’ll stand, ready to fight).

Out mystery man’s got a very specific speech pattern – in fact… he could be a Professor. He sounds nearly as good as Sherlock, and he’s got more resources than him, though.

Even that man seems to think that there might be something intimate brewing between John and Sherlock because our dear John seems to have changed a lot since he met his new flatmate – and that was just the day before.

The mysterious man tells John that he’s got to be careful because Sherlock would probably describe him as his arch-enemy (a fact that shan’t be denied by Sherlock when John reports the encounter, and something that we must keep in mind plot-wise).

Things become scarier when Sherlock's arch-enemy somehow reveals that he’s read Ella’s file about John (yet… he’s right about the fact that John misses the war and isn’t suffering from PTSD).

John’s a man of honour who can’t be bought, and he turns down Sherlock's arch-enemy’s bribe.

During this talk, John’s been getting texts from Sherlock, asking him to come to Baker Street.

As he leaves, Sherlock's arch-enemy declares that it’s “time to choose a side” just when Sherlock texts John that joining him “could be dangerous”. Sherlock's offer’s better, and John asks Anthea to drive him to Baker Street (after a quick stop). There, we’ve got a very smooth edition from the hangar to John opening his old flat’s door where he’s stopped to get his gun.

John tries to cover his track, but from Anthea’s reaction he deduces that she’s already told everything to her boss. Before he leaves the car, we get a glimpse of John “I-need-a-girlfriend” Watson as he tries to get a date with Anthea (it fails entirely).

Right there, I’ll be clinging to my aforementioned closed front door plot-hole because John has to knock to get in (yes, I’m a stubborn lil’ creature).

As a doctor, John’s got to be appalled that Sherlock's using three nicotine patches to feed his addiction (this mightn’t be morphine or cocaine, but it should have given John a clue of some sort about Sherlock's odd habits).

After explaining why he’s the one with Jennifer Wilson’s case now, Sherlock explains that her phone has to be with her murderer, and it seems that the text he’d made John sent to her phone puzzles the serial killer.

Even if Donovan’s words got John’s brain cells in a twist, Sherlock points out that he announced it’d be dangerous to come to Baker Street, and John came nonetheless. They both crave action.

With one of John’s very few curse words, he follows Sherlock to the place where they’ve set a trap: 22 Northumberland Street (which is still not possibly just a five minutes walk from their flat).

On their way to the trap, Sherlock hasn’t made the connection yet; he doesn’t know who could be able to abduct people from busy streets without being caught.

The address that Sherlock had John text is across a restaurant that belongs to Angelo (Stanley Townsend). Before turning to food, Angelo was a small criminal who ended up needing Sherlock's help three years ago. This Angelo’s very different from the one in the pilot; he’s a tall, strong, typically British man (Italian mummy? “Inglese italianato” parents? Chosen name?). What’s important for us is that Angelo’s grateful, and Sherlock could date a Martian, he wouldn’t care and would welcome the alien from outer space (as well, that big bloke’s a big romantic who brings a candle to the table).

John goes back to the arch-enemy thingy, which starts a talk about people, friends and girlfriends, and John’s told that girlfriends aren’t really Sherlock's “area”. John concludes that “boyfriend” might be Sherlock's area, and he points out that it’s fine. Then it’s Sherlock's turn to mis-read the message and he starts telling John that he can’t date him because he’s married to his job (Sherlock's socially completely clueless, but he’s certainly not bigoted).

At last, something happens across the street and they dash out of the restaurant. Once more unto the breach… and John no longer needs his cane.

The next scene’s a brilliant chase through buildings, on roofs (the red light/green light when John hesitates to jump after Sherlock are a good addition to the on-screen information we get) and through various kinds of streets.

Sherlock and John intercept the taxi they were chasing, only to find that the man’s in it is just a tourist from the US (Peter Brooke). Apparently, the taxi was just at the trap address because the cabbie was taking advantage of the fact that the poor tourist didn’t know the city. There’s one very interesting thing about the casting choice; in American series, when a character’s supposed to be a foreigner, they hire an American who pretends to be alien (usually, it does not work – at all), but here the American bloke’s played by a tri-national actor, which gives an authentic result.

We learn that Sherlock pickpockets Lestrade when he finds him annoying (apparently, that’s often), and they start sharing jokes and laughing together (they’re really instant friends).

Once at home, Sherlock's really happy that John’ no longer limping (and that’s not only because he was right about it being psychosomatic!). John’s got to be high on adrenaline because he notices it only when Angelo actually brings him the cane back.

Our heroes can’t even relax for a minute because as soon as Mrs Hudson joins them in the hall, she announces that there’s something wrong upstairs. Since Lestrade’s not stupid, he’s planned a fake/not fake drugs bust in order to be able to search the flat (having Donovan helping is normal, but Anderson’s presence’s a sign that this character’s supposed to really hate Sherlock).

Sherlock and Lestrade comparing patches is a really funny moment.

Still over-analysing, but I think it’s to make the terms familiar to the audience that Anderson calls Sherlock a psychopath, which prompts Sherlock to answer (and I love that line) ‘I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research’. Sociopath is a description that’s no longer used by professionals and has been replaced with antisocial personality disorder; this may be the accurate phrasing, but the public’s not used to it yet. The old term’s certainly being used for the benefit of the viewers and in order to make an immediate association.

As Sherlock wonders why Jennifer Wilson’s still mourning Rachel, the stillborn daughter she’d lost over a decade ago, he puts his foot deep in his mouth. The others must be used to such kind of weirdness from Sherlock, but it’s John who states that it’s a “bit not good” (John’s still trying to be kind and very polite).

We knew that John had been injured, and it was serious enough to force him out of the army, but we realize in this scene that he nearly died. Sherlock, being his usual self, and since John’s not dead and obviously getting better, goes on with his deductions about Jennifer Wilson, after being interrupted by Mrs Hudson about a cabbie asking for him and after insulting Anderson, Sherlock's got an epiphany: clever Jennifer planted her phone on her murderer. The smartphone can be located, thanks to the password: her daughter’s name – the name she painfully scratched as the poison was killing her.

Just like the search engine from the beginning, the smartphone reference is to a non-existent company (the address’s supposed to be: jennie.pink@mephone.org.uk).

Having the cabbie, with Jennifer Wilson’s phone, downstairs really was not in Sherlock's equation. Once he stops being surprised (and while the police team starts searching for the phone in the flat), he connects the dot: the cabbie’s the murderer (Phil Davis).

Sherlock fully relies on John as he trusts him to start a new search of the phone, and he goes downstairs to meet the serial killer.

It’s very interesting to see the cabbie play Sherlock and use his curiosity (that can be a dangerous, even fatal, weakness).

The ones in the flat finally realize that the phone’s not in the flat, and since Sherlock's left, Lestrade calls the drugs bust off (but not before we get to witness the depth of Donovan’s hatred for Sherlock).

On their way to some secluded location, the cabbie gets too confident, and he tells Sherlock that he was warned about Sherlock by some criminal mastermind who’s a fan of Sherlock.

Lestrade’s known Sherlock for five years, and he puts up with him because he needs his brains. ‘And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man and I think one day, if we’re very, very lucky, he might even be a good one.’

What Lestrade couldn’t begin to imagine is that now that John’s around, Sherlock's beginning to become good.

The imaginary Roland-Kerr Further Education College is one camera trick since there was only one building in Cardiff turned into two supposed to be in London (the DVD commentaries are full of interesting information).

The cabbie really counts on Sherlock's massive curiosity in order to have him follow him inside the college – and it works.

Whilst John goes about the flat (and is about to go archive his cane), the laptop searching for Jennifer Wilson’s phone has finally located it again. This time, we don’t get to see where the phone’s supposed to be exactly, but the results promptly send John after the phone – and Sherlock.

There’s an original transition (again) when we have in the background 221B and John rushing downstairs with the laptop (on the left) and the cabbie opens a door in the school (on the right) – and Baker Street fades off.

When the cabbie starts his poison game with Sherlock, this times the bottles contain a single pill. We can wonder if it’s supposed to be the last murder or if it’s a teeny, tiny plot-twist because we can’t have several pills around that could later prove Sherlock right (or wrong?). The way the cabbie presents the bottles really makes it look as if he’s playing chess.

As John’s in a cab, trying to contact Lestrade and basically rushing to save Sherlock, the cabbie’s taunts are going to get him some talion law from Sherlock, who turns the tables and starts analysing the serial killer’s motivations.

The cabbie may have been told that he’s going to die of aneurysm, but Sherlock sees that it’s not bitterness that’s the cabbie’s motivation - ‘Love is a much more vicious motivator’.

This conversation about the serial killer’s reasons leads to a fantastic plot-twist because it turns out that Sherlock's fan’s the one sponsoring the serial killings (right then, thanks to the expanded episode, we’re given an evil criminal mastermind who’s giving money to promote crimes; as well, the cabbie’s description make Sherlock think that there might well be a whole organisation behind his odd fan).

We catch a glimpse of John running and calling Sherlock, but he doesn’t seem to be close enough for Sherlock and the cabbie to hear him.

Since he’s an expert, Sherlock saw that the cabbie’s gun’s a fake, and he plans to leave and have the cabbie arrested, but he cannot resist when the cabbie asks him if he’s figured out which bottle contains the non-poisonous pill. Sherlock's ready to do anything to prove that he’s right, and he’s considering swallowing the pill that the cabbie had intended to take (by the way, because of the possibility that the cabbie might have offered Sherlock the safe pill in the first place because he thought that Sherlock would take the other one, and because there’s the possibility that he’d planned that, too, I wouldn’t have known which pill to choose. As well, both pills might have been lethal…).

We’re given another efficient plot-twist next because John’s still running, and he opens a door. We see Sherlock, but… the camera takes us behind Sherlock, through the window, and to the other building: John’s on the right floor, but in the wrong part of the school.

The music really adds to the tension as the cabbie keeps taunting his potential next victim. Sherlock looks particularly pale as he observes the pill (it’s got to be the lightning and make-up, but it adds something dramatic to the scene).

Right after the shot, Sherlock rushes to the window, but he doesn’t see who fired, and since the cabbie’s not dead just yet, he’s got time to ask him a few things; he doesn’t want to say if Sherlock was right about the pill he’d chosen, but, because Sherlock hurts him, he spills the fan’s name: Moriarty. This episode shows us that Sherlock's ready to do anything to get answers.

The upgraded version of Scotland Yard is much less respectful of Sherlock than in the books.

Of course, he can be arrogant and unpleasant, but instead of telling him that he’s unkind and wrong to behave that way, they all gang together to bully him. When Lestrade says that his colleagues want to take photographs of Sherlock as he’s wearing a blanket in an ambulance, it’s quite unkind, in fact.

Lestrade declares that they don’t know a thing about the man who shot the cabbie, and Sherlock focuses on that and starts showing off. However, when he realizes that John’s the one who saved him, he tries to leave and he clumsily manages to go to John, who he wants to protect (but he should have mentioned getting rid of the powder traces on John’s sleeve, too!).

Before they can go eat something, Sherlock’s arch-enemy arrives (all right… It’s confession time: the first time I saw the episode I really thought it was Moriarty!).

It turns out that Sherlock’s arch-enemy is his brother Mycroft (Mark Gatiss), who was written in a way to confuse us and look like a criminal mastermind. The one who pretends to be just a civil servant is in fact the British government, which was the original description (Cf.: The Bruce-Partington Plans); this time Sherlock adds that his brother’s the British secret service and the CIA on a freelance basis – the Holmes brothers are quite extraordinary.

Before leaving, John bravely tries again to have Anthea notice him, but she doesn’t even seem to remember him (I’ve seen some people suggest that she’s got prosopamnesia, but I think John’s just not high enough in her food chain to have her register him; later, the way she looks back at her phone when her boss mentions John seems to confirm that).

From then on, John, who seems to have deciphered how Sherlock ticks, counters him each time he exaggerates (Sherlock can’t always predict the fortune cookies, and it might be out of sheer luck that he can tell that John was shot in the shoulder). Since Arthur Conan Doyle made a mistake about Watson's injury (considering the number of pages, it was more or less bound to happen) once mentioning a shoulder injury and then a leg injury, our updating writers used both (a shoulder wound combined with a psychosomatic limp).

As Sherlock and John walk away together, we shouldn’t be surprised to discover that Mycroft  is spying on Sherlock and decides to have the surveillance upgraded to ‘grade three, active’ (whatever that means, it sounds good).

The final words belong to Mycroft, who declares that there’s a new crime-fighting duo: ‘Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson’.

Poor Marketing

I find the new VisitBritain campaign with its "[Something] is Great Britain" very, very good.

However, the international campaign is more so-so.

If the German version works a bit (same grammatical pattern):

The French version is utterly disappointing:

I understand that someone must have wanted to centre the campaign on Great Britain, but since not everybody in these countries necessarily knows the translation for "Great Britain" in their native languages (not everybody learns English - though it's the current global communication language), then the obsession with the Great Britain part of the ad is odd (at best).

It really looks as if they didn't want to pay someone to find slogans that would work in the different countries that were being targeted.

I’m sure a good ad wizard could come up with good slogans in foreign languages.

Let’s take the German one:

Natur

ist

Großbritannien

It could work.

Let’s give it a try with the French one:

GRANDE

CULTURE

GRANDE

BRETAGNE

I can’t make up my mind and say if the international campaign is plain badvert or just poorvert.

I’m afraid I’ll lean towards badvert after mentioning that this seems linked to “Cool Britannia”.

Who’s the weird… person who came up with that silly, 1p pun? [I do know who did – I do my research, but there was no reason to spread it and keep it]

The international campaign looks like a cheap and hasty recycling of a decent campaign.

Fake Definitions: pro-life

Disclaimer: This is obviously a fake definition.

If you’re a bloke and you disagree, well… sorry, Cupcake, but you’ll be allowed to speak on the topic when you grow the equipment to carry out a pregnancy.

If you’re a gal and you disagree… Oh, Sister! *gives you a coin* Here, 50p, to go buy yourself a brain. Keep the change.

And, yes, I’m particularly proud of the phonetic transcription on this one.

pro-life

Pronunciation: /ˈanti tʃɔɪs/

adjective

1. Severe medical condition that prompts its object to shove his (sometimes her) beliefs down the throats of others. Usually a biped with that condition will resort to lie and deceit (the most severe forms lead to violence and criminal activities). The condition is mostly associated with massive religious ideas (that the other people might have different values – or no religion at all – is irrelevant to the ones having that condition, for they think they have the right to act as they do):

Using vaginal probes on sluts who want to have an abortion is perfectly reasonable. They must be publicly shamed for being equipped to carry out a pregnancy. Believe me, I should know, I’m pro-life.

2. Smokescreen that allows people to not care about what happens to a foetus once its born and needs love (i.e: adoptions deemed unconventional are prevented) and money (i.e.: poor parents aren’t helped – much, for they are “sinners”):       

I’m pro-life, but if these harlots kept their legs closed, we wouldn’t have to veto gay adoptions.

3. Philosophy that pretends to care about women when the sole aim is to bully them into submission. A predicted aim is to try to enslave women and make sure that they no longer have any right (slow process from a very patient kind of crowd):

It’s clearly a kind, pro-life measure to limit women’s choices. They don’t have clear minds and can’t make their own choices.

4. State of utter lack of charity that makes someone think he, or she, can decide that someone who’s dying has to keep suffering – even if the person’s begging to be allowed to end it all:

My G*d says it’s wrong – and He’s pro-life! I don’t care if the patient is living such hell that the screams are heard throughout the hospital. We can’t have people making choices about their own bodies!

Fake Definitions: twatectomy

Disclaimer: This is obviously a fake definition.

twatectomy

Pronunciation: /twɒtɛktəmi, twatɛktəmi/

noun (plural twatectomies)

A necessary operation to remove an utter plonker:

My allergy to stupidity was dangerously spiking up; I had to do a quick twatectomy.

Painting Update

Houston, we have leaves... and weeds:

Sewing a muff

So... this is what I've been doing this weekend: a muff.

I'd bought a rectangle of Muppet-skin years ago - to make a muff. I'd kept it in my wardrobe for a looong time, but with the weather these days, I started working on it.

I cut a few layers of fleece very slightly smaller than the Muppet-skin:

Then I cut a piece of black satin. I cut it bigger than the Mupper-skin:

Here's a photo of the three layers together:

I used pins to place the rubber bands that would close the muff ends. I sewed the satin on the fleece and made sure that the rubber bands could move smoothly:

The next step was a bit rock 'n' roll because I had to sew the shortest sides together (that were twelve layers of various thickness).

When that was done, I turned it inside out so I had the Muppet-skin on one side and the lining layers on the other - a bit like a butterfly. I sewed the Muppet-skin right against the lining, and when that was done, I put the lining back inside the cylinder.

The next step was to close the longest sides. When I reached the opening with the extra rubber band, I pulled until I was satisfied with the shape of the opening, and I knotted the ends of the rubber band, cut the extra length and hid it under the satin before closing it for good. Then... repeat on side b.

You get this:

My hands will stay warm - and people might talk... Double bonus.

Real Life Attack

So... I'd planned to write more this week, but first there was something unexpected that happened at job#1 and that took three days to set to rights, and then I had to waste some time with my bank vampire advisor.

Basically, I'm late on my own schedule, but I'm working on several things...

Things were so weird that my plot bunnies exploded.

I'm not lying. Look:

The bunnies are having bad hare days, but...
More soonish.

Painting Update

Step by step, I add to the painting.
It now looks like this:

Next... Leaves!

Watching Sherlock (Unaired Pilot)

Dear Auntie Beeb,

I really want to thank you for asking the co-creators of Sherlock to make a 90 minutes episode instead of the 55 minutes one they’d delivered to you, and for giving them a better camera that forced them to shoot everything again (or whatever happened exactly).

Now, the initial episode 1 they gave you is the unaired pilot, and it’s like an experiment that allowed them to change and improve the plot.

Ordering the changes was pure genius (or sheer luck).

Love,

Dru

I clearly remember my surprise when I watched the pilot for the first time. The Sherlock team was given a great opportunity to treat their first episode as a major rehearsal and to change the things they thought didn’t work.

The very beginning’s a tad abrupt, and without the dream sequence in the actual episode 1 that told the viewers that we were dealing with a soldier having a nightmare, the people unaware that Dr John Watson (Martin Freeman) was just back from Afghanistan would have spent a few seconds wondering why that man with an empty blog (which doesn’t look like a blog at all in this version, but perhaps that’s because he’s just glaring at the page) has a gun in his drawer. Since a few people online have been complaining about spoilers whilst the novels and books have been published over a century ago, I can imagine the odd reactions about an armed Watson!

I don’t know what happened between the pilot and episode 1, but the original opening credits were so incredibly dark and dull that it would have been a bad thing for the series (or was it a temporary thing until Auntie Beeb said she was happy?) – and all in all (yes, after seeing episode 1 first) the music is so different in the pilot that the whole atmosphere is different. I’ll say it aloud type it for all to see, I confess that I’d have liked the series, but maybe not as much.

Having a bearded Anderson (Jonathan Aris) made him look like a twisted homage to the doctors working for Scotland Yard in the original stories, but it didn’t work, and it’s quite a good thing that they didn’t keep the beard.

As well, having Detective Inspector Lestrade (Rupert Graves) calling Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch) to the rescue is very close to the originals (after all, in The Six Napoleons, he’s the one who says: ‘We’re not jealous of you at Scotland Yard. No, sir, we are very proud of you, and if you come down to-morrow, there’s not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngest constable, who wouldn’t be glad to shake you by the hand.’). From the start, and in spite of Anderson, Lestrade knows when to call Sherlock.

The end of the scene on the first crime scene we get to see had a rather nice shot that showed us how cold it was. Details, details, you’ll say (and you’ll be right), but I’m here to cling to details.

And speaking of details, the next scene takes us back to John, after making sure that we know we’re in London, and the news stand next to the tube gives us a clue about the case as we’ve got just enough time to read “4^th suicide murder victim” (had I seen that episode first, I bet the concept of "suicide + murder" would have puzzled me since we don’t get an explanation immediately).

Mike Stamford (David Nellist) and John’s lunch at the Criterion is a beautiful scene - and in the novel, Watson was at the Criterion Bar when he met his old friend.
The two fellows start talking flats, which makes Mike think of Sherlock, and bypasses any mention of John’s family.

In A Study in Scarlet, the strange habits of Sherlock Holmes at Barts are clearly described, and it’s perfectly logical to meet Sherlock in the mortuary, about to use a riding crop on a poor, late employee of the hospital who donated his body, and who probably never suspected that he’d help Sherlock work on the alibi of a suspect. What’s a bit more unusual, and was quite a nice surprise, is the charming young woman working there. Molly Hooper (Louise Brealey) establishes straight away that she’s got a massive crush on Sherlock and will do anything for him (we don’t know it yet, but this character will keep becoming more and more important as the plots unfold).

Sherlock practically orders a coffee from Molly (his superior mind doesn’t even register the fact that she’s asking him out on a date, which shows that he’s got to work on his manners a bit - and that he's not perfect when it comes to deductions) before heading to a classroom where he uses a computer to check his e-mails. This is an interesting way to mention a few canon characters.

First we have the older brother; Mycroft's e-mail address looks so… simple, it’s Mycroft@dsux.org and one can be disappointed with such a plain combination. We can imagine that Mycroft wishes to be discreet, but the lack of “.gov.uk” (or even “.go.uk”, or something, to avoid legal issues) is slightly odd. However, we get a near quote from The Sign of Four in the message, which is rather nice.

The second e-mail is to a Gregson, who was the Inspector in the original A Study in Scarlet, and then Sherlock deletes a message from Lestrade (will the poor DI have to beg to get some help?) and starts composing a new e-mail for a Jones, yet another Inspector mentioned in The Sign of Four.

Benedict Cumberbatch looks like he’s twenty-two (or less) in the classroom scene, and the black jeans and burgundy shirt give him a younger look, too. Praise wardrobe for having found the coat straightaway!

David Nellist’s little smile during the “I’m going to summarize your life – not necessarily in a way that you’re going to like” scene is brilliant. He’s really conveying the idea of “here goes Sherlock again; he’ll never change, but we, his fans, love him that way”, as well as “Join the club, John!”.

When John and Sherlock meet in front of 221b, we discover that the shop next door is “Mrs Hudson’s Snax ‘n’ Sarnies”? Really? I think we’ll all agree that with Sherlock in the picture, she’s got enough to do with 221b, and who came up with that spelling? It’s a good thing that the Hudson’s store belongs only in the pilot.

We get a quick view of the “To Let” sign is upside down on the balcony; it should have been a clue for John that Sherlock had already told Mrs Hudson (Una Stubbs) that they’d take the flat.

There’s something utterly disturbing about Mrs Hudson’s dress, and it’s a bit of a shock when she opens the door wearing that relic from the 1960s. It’s all the more surprising since the flat was decorated in a much more traditional way; the living room looks properly Edwardian, and I’ll admit that I like it better than the one they have now. Was it changed because it looked too classic, too canon-Holmes from the late 19^th century? That’s quite possible.

Let’s notice the traditional mirror above the mantelpiece that gives more space to the room, and must drive cameramen nuts (though it seems to be a British art to film with mirrors without having the crew caught in any odd angle. I haven’t seen many mirrors in most non-British series or films).

Sherlock is already messy, which is consistent with the descriptions in the books (and we get Sherlock using a knife to pin his letters onto the mantelpiece).

Beginning a long line of “if you’re together, it’s not a problem, boys”, we have Mrs Hudson stating that if Sherlock and John want to share the same room, she doesn’t mind – at all. I know that some people find it annoying, but I love it; it makes me laugh, and Martin Freeman has such a “Uh? What just happened here?” look – simply brilliant! As well, not all ladies of Mrs Hudson’s age would approve of such a relationship, and I think it’s quite important to have such level of tolerance and normality about the situation because it gives a positive image.

When things become too strange and there’s yet another murder, Lestrade goes directly to Sherlock's new place, and he pleads his case. Sherlock’s excitement at being invited to work on the serial killings tells us that investigating is his life (and is probably more important in his mind than the air he breathes); Una Stubbs’s smile after the jump of joy is simply adorable.

The fact that Sherlock has a burglar-kit that he takes to go to a crime scene is another clue that he’s ready to do anything to solve a case.

Sherlock's in such a hurry to leave that he abandons John in their future flat, and John finds himself with their landlady, who comments on his leg. Martin Freeman’s voice breaking slightly on the last word of “Damn my leg!” adds pain and frustration to that line. It worked very well.

Once our dear boys go to the crime scene, we get very nice views of London, but I think the cabbie might have taken the scenic route to go to Brixton.

I see the way Martin Freeman pauses before he says ‘amateurs’ as something that shows how much John’s supposed to care (or it could be good education, but he’s made up his mind to move in with that odd man, and the prospect of having found a way to stay in town doesn’t explain everything).

When we see real crime scenes today, they’re clearly spaces where contaminations are out of the question. Therefore, having Sherlock, John and Lestrade put on suits to go to the crime scene is more authentic, but it wasn’t really working for Sherlock because (I’ll say write this just once) this is television and Sherlock needs to be above the Force and us, mere mortals.

Sherlock in the twenty-first century relies on modern technology, and showing his mobile to explain why the lady in pink came from Cardiff doesn’t work too well; we don’t get enough time to properly focus on what’s being presented and it steals precious seconds for not much (and the same is true when we have to look at Sherlock's texts on John’s mobile; it’s clearly not working).

When Sherlock leaves to go look for the pink suitcase, the shot of him on the roof looking for clues is absolutely stunning (it’s a pity they couldn’t keep it).

Once John has been lured back to Baker Street with the promise of danger, we’re treated to an update of Sherlock's addiction where cigarettes replace morphine and cocaine (or do they?). The three nicotine patches look rather small, but they allow the use of a transformed reference as a three-pipe problem to three-patch problem (it sounds good, and is a good reference to the original works, but is it really equal?).

Showing the pink case right after John mentioned what Sally Donovan (Zawe Ashton) told him about Sherlock brings some drama to the scene (and Martin Freeman looked positively spooked for a moment). Just before leaving to go to spy on 22 Northumberland Terrace (which isn’t in W1 as indicated on the fake street plaque), Sherlock proves again that he knows how to push John’s buttons.

Just like I quite liked the first look of the flat, I’ll admit that I like Angelo’s restaurant in the pilot (Sherlock using a mirror to keep an eye on the street was a good trick, all the more since he’s already worked out that the killer is a cabbie).

I’ll admit, too, that I quite like the first Angelo (Joseph Long); he’s got the Mediterranean attitude that goes with the name. There’s something funny and cute in the way he interacts with Sherlock and John, and the fact that he seems to be on the same wave length as Mrs Hudson is (well, it’s in the script – yes, I know. Ta!) almost karmic. Let it be known, if Sherlock's with someone, that someone has to be his date (probably because Sherlock works alone). Martin Freeman’s look at the candle screams “Oh, Lord! No! I want to punch someone, but I won’t because it’d be bad”.

Later in the scene, the way John goes from “you need to refuel, you clot” to “do you have a girlfriend?” is a logical “I’m doing my best to get to know my odd new flatmate” – it backfires superbly (which shows that it’s not just with Molly; Sherlock's incompetent when it comes to personal relationships).

Here and there in the script, we get references to canon stories, but others are new, and the headless nun reference, when Sherlock asks Angelo to toss him out of his restaurant, remains a mystery (it’s a very odd and intriguing name; the avid fan is left to speculate – cruel writers! Don’t we love them for being so inventive and funny?)

The major difference in this version is that the cabbie (Phil Davis) drugs Sherlock to take him to Baker Street in order to kill him. The mention of drug use is canon, and in the books, Sherlock uses drugs when he’s bored (the implications today, and the culture, are very different).

Angelo’s completely fooled, but John isn’t (he’s already Sherlock's assistant, and like Sherlock reads him, John has flashes of understanding when Sherlock's concerned) and he literally runs to Sherlock's rescue (cane forgotten, our brave soldier is back to a new battlefield).

Whilst the possibility of a triple bluff is interesting, the white pills are a bit boring (I’ve got vitamins that look like that – not very threatening), but Sherlock making deductions with his cheek glued to the table, that works beautifully.

The cabbie makes a bit of a mistake when he taunts Sherlock; it’s silly to dare Sherlock by saying that even he is stupid – that gets the consulting detective’s brain back online and ready to fight back.

Sherlock may not be a betting man, but he can’t resist a dare and that’s a weakness because he’s ready to ignore the police outside and to swallow the pill just to prove that he’s right (right then, the music really adds to the tension).

The cabbie’s killing looks like a nod to The Empty House.

When Sherlock realizes that John’s the one who saved him, he stops helping Lestrade, and he rushes to John’s side. Sherlock's reaction about the gun’s logical, but he should have mentioned the potential powder on John’s clothes, too. The gun at the bottom of the Thames is a good thing, but can’t the bullet still be traced back to John’s gun? Well… that’s yet another mere detail (and one that doesn’t concern us, since John will get to keep his gun in the series).

The duo’s already working perfectly as John intervenes and stops Lestrade from questioning Sherlock. He pretends to be acting as Sherlock's doctor in order to escape and leave Lestrade (perhaps John’s really hungry now, or he just wants to celebrate). I want to believe that Lestrade’s no fool as he watches them go.

Sherlock and John bond even more as they team to tease poor Mrs Hudson. It hasn’t been a day, and there’s already a dead body on the boys’ living room carpet – that definitely sets the tone, and Lestrade tells Donovan and the rest of the world that from now on, it’s ‘Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson’.