The trouble with Irene Adler
The trouble with Irene Adler is really a trouble with all the recurring (as opposed to lead) characters in the Sherlock Holmes universe: to whit, there aren't any.
The originals are very good at not repeating themselves. So much so that, apart from the two (three with Mrs. Hudson), no character appears in a story outside of the one in which (s)he is introduced. And no adaptation is ever comfortable with this, perhaps rightly. But anyway, there are four of them, two heroic, two villainous, two men, tywo women. Let's take a look.
Professor Moriarty:
In the originals: The spider at the center of the web - possibly one of the first recorded cases of arc welding. Implied to have had a hand in the earlier cases to some extent. So evenly matched intellectually with Holmes that they have to resort to fisticuffs. At which they are likewise so evenly matched that they manage to both fall off a waterfall. Until the fans protested, that is.
In the adaptations: Always the major villain. It is actually impossible to do Holmes without Moriarty - even on Star Trek! By contrast to the source material, in adaptations Moriarty has Joker Immunity. He's the Nemesis, and we always know about him fairly early, even if Holmes does not; Watson, now, always knows about him pretty much as long as Holmes does.
Mycroft Holmes:
In the originals: Obese, sedentary, reclusive. Founded a gentleman's club for people who don't ever want to talk to each other. Just straight-up cleverer than his brother by a fairly wide margin. Would be the most famous mind in Britain if he could be bothered to leave his armchair, which he can't (although he is implied to have Connections).
In the adaptations: Flat-out omniscient, runs the British Government. Often calls his brother in on things, for various reasons.
Mary Morestand:
In the originals: Watson's damsel in distress. Then he marries her. She's actually mentioned occasionally outside of her introduction story, but usually only in the capacity of "really, I should let you get home", or passing references to the fact that Watson is no longer a bachelor living at Baker's Street.
In the adaptations: Spunky, powerful, practical, often in direct competition with Holmes, often turning up to rescue the boys when they get trapped by their own cleverness.
Irene Adler:
In the originals: One of the four people to ever defeat Sherlock Holmes - specifically, of those four, the female one. (The Three Men are, to my knowledge, never ever mentioned or expanded upon, making her story the only time in the series Holmes is actually defeated). Independent, mercenary, and probably a better person than the people she's scamming. Realizes immediately that she's given herself away (you can't fool the eyetracker) and disappears into the night with her photos, but leaving a picture of herself in their place. She promises to never use the naught photos, and Holmes believes her.
In the adaptations: The female villain, working for Moriarty. Highly sexualized to match/break Holmes' asexuality. The love interest, if there is any. Holmes becomes fascinated by her after she outsmarts him. And because she outsmarts him. Often this fascination is mutual.
I should also mention Inspector Lestrade. He may be the only minor character who actually appears in multiple stories, but it's hard to say because I honestly don't remember him from the books. That might say something. In the adaptations he varies wildly from helpful-but-inadequate to goodnatured-but-incompetant to quasi-villainous (to the butt-monkey). His job, other than being the liaison with Scotland Yard, is to be slightly more wrong than Watson. Lestrade gives the obvious answer, Watson gives the answer the audience comes up with if they were paying attention, and Holmes gives the correct answer. But he is certainly the character with the most variation across adaptations.
In general, Sherlock treats these characters well. Moriarty is...bizarre, but effective, and inverts Holmes nicely. (It just occurred to me that the big, final showdown is also over water - although if Jim and Sherlock were to tumble off the diving board together neither of them would be very much the worse for wear). Mycroft is phenomenal, and gives whole new meaning to the phrase "Big Brother is watching you." Although they're teetering on the edge of the "straight-up cleverer than his brother" thing, but I don't think they'll fall on the wrong side. Lestrade is the most respectful treatment I've ever seen, falling squarely in the helpful-but-inadequate camp. He's pretty awesome. Wrong, but competent.
The women fare less well. We've seen nary hide nor hair of Mary Morestand, and, actually, we may not, given that the overwhelming dynamic of the show is the Friendship between Holmes and Watson. (This was brought sharply into focus with the most recent episode: "They were wrong when they said you were a terrible boyfriend; Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man.") I don't know if there's room for a Mary Morestand in what they've built here - and if there is, it won't be for a long while - they still have plenty of bachelor days in Baker Street to go.
Mary is sort of made up for in the character of Mrs. Hudson, who has been elevated to quite a Character. She's gorgeous. I love the way she frets.
And then there's Irene Adler. Typical for the adaptations, she's working with Moriarty, extremely sexualized, and utterly mesmerizing to Holmes because of her mystery. I was not really bothered by any of these three things, although the first, when examined, raises some deeply Unfortunate Implications. As others have pointed out, the actress was wonderful, the kink was handed well (and was a nice match to his asexuality), and the puzzle of her was immediate and kept him interested. So, good points.
It hadn't occurred to me to be too bothered by her working with Moriarty until someone pointed it out, possibly because I'd come to expect it. But, first off, it makes her part of the Web, while he remains the Spider, robbing her of a lot of her agency and independence. Given that, in the sources, Adler beats Holmes and Holmes beats Moriarty, if anything she should be higher up on the intellectual pecking order than he is. Then, there's the fact that there are, so far, exactly two openly homosexual characters in the show - and they're Adler and Moriarty. The two villains. Who are, incidentally, working together. Our heroes, on the other hand, are very very adamantly Not Gay. And then, suddenly, this episode becomes the story of a Strong Criminal Lesbian who is brought down (and, perhaps, redeemed) by her love for a man. Um, guys?
Irene Adler was never intended as a feminist character or statement; she was merely The Woman Who Defeated Sherlock Holmes (as opposed to the Three Men Who Defeated Sherlock Holmes). But in order to fulfill that role she had to have characteristics that we view these days as feminist: power, independence, intellect at least equal to his (and therefore superior to the vast majority of people around her); and in order to make it acceptable, she had to be villainous but not too villainous, so she can't even be taken as a morality play about what happens to women who don't stay at home with the children. All of these positive qualities are necessary results of the fact that she beats Holmes.
In "A Scandal in Belgravia", however, she doesn't beat Holmes. And so there is no longer a story need for her to retain any of the elements that made her such a strong and interesting character. Instead, he outsmarts her, belittles her for her emotional involvement, shows that her supposed power is in fact an illusion (and, what power she had was only what power other people let her have, and without it she is utterly helpless), and then has to come to her rescue. Her line about "beating" him, which could have been an intentional play on words on her part had the episode played out differently, is reduced to another tired dominatrix joke, substituting power play for genuine intellectual prowess. The photos themselves are the source of her power, not whatever individual faculty allowed her to amass or acquire them, leaving her crippled without her accessories (whereas, for Sherlock, much as he loves his phone, his chief weapon is always his mind). Even her title, "the Woman," is a conceit she made up for herself on her website - an affectation - rather than a mark of respect (and evidence of his continued fascination from him, granting her the rare, extremely rare, status of Personhood (and worthiness) in his estimation. In other material, she's The Woman because, as far as he's concerned, she's the only Woman - she is a person as he is a person and nobody else is. But here, it's a conceit - just another part of the illusion which he ultimately tears away.
The thing is, all of this could have been avoided. Easily. The ending of the episode retroactively soured all the build-up. From about the scene with Mycroft on. But here's how that scene could have gone down. So yes, S-H-E-R, he unlocks the phone, after going on and on about her sentimentality, to find - pictures of her. (probably naked pictures of her). Just of her. And then she smiles and leaves the dumbfounded brothers to get on with things. And, of course, cut the rescue scene. But even that is easy. Mycroft feeds Watson that obviously false information, Watson does his job by reporting Lie #1 to Holmes, ensuring that he'll actually believe Lie #2 - but then, instead of cutting to the rescue scene at the end, after Watson leaves, play the little gasp sound. That would tell us everything the rescue scene does, and actually more believably: She's alive, Mycroft knows, Sherlock knows, but Mycroft doesn't know that Sherlock knows. And this way, unlike in how it actually played out, it would actually be believable that Mycroft doesn't know that Sherlock knows. As I said before, in the episode itself, there's no way that Mycroft could not know that, which makes his whole up-till-now brilliant cafe scene with John...utterly pointless. Unless, as I postulated, baiting poor Watson is the Holmes brothers' version of chess by mail.
Anyway, the more I stop and really think about Irene Adler, the less I like this interpretation of her. Although, again, and always, she's still better than that chick in the recent movie. But that one was Adler In Name Only, and so, in a way, less offensive to what they've done to the character here.
Although, on the upside, it really makes me want to go read "A Scandal in Bohemia" again.
The originals are very good at not repeating themselves. So much so that, apart from the two (three with Mrs. Hudson), no character appears in a story outside of the one in which (s)he is introduced. And no adaptation is ever comfortable with this, perhaps rightly. But anyway, there are four of them, two heroic, two villainous, two men, tywo women. Let's take a look.
Professor Moriarty:
In the originals: The spider at the center of the web - possibly one of the first recorded cases of arc welding. Implied to have had a hand in the earlier cases to some extent. So evenly matched intellectually with Holmes that they have to resort to fisticuffs. At which they are likewise so evenly matched that they manage to both fall off a waterfall. Until the fans protested, that is.
In the adaptations: Always the major villain. It is actually impossible to do Holmes without Moriarty - even on Star Trek! By contrast to the source material, in adaptations Moriarty has Joker Immunity. He's the Nemesis, and we always know about him fairly early, even if Holmes does not; Watson, now, always knows about him pretty much as long as Holmes does.
Mycroft Holmes:
In the originals: Obese, sedentary, reclusive. Founded a gentleman's club for people who don't ever want to talk to each other. Just straight-up cleverer than his brother by a fairly wide margin. Would be the most famous mind in Britain if he could be bothered to leave his armchair, which he can't (although he is implied to have Connections).
In the adaptations: Flat-out omniscient, runs the British Government. Often calls his brother in on things, for various reasons.
Mary Morestand:
In the originals: Watson's damsel in distress. Then he marries her. She's actually mentioned occasionally outside of her introduction story, but usually only in the capacity of "really, I should let you get home", or passing references to the fact that Watson is no longer a bachelor living at Baker's Street.
In the adaptations: Spunky, powerful, practical, often in direct competition with Holmes, often turning up to rescue the boys when they get trapped by their own cleverness.
Irene Adler:
In the originals: One of the four people to ever defeat Sherlock Holmes - specifically, of those four, the female one. (The Three Men are, to my knowledge, never ever mentioned or expanded upon, making her story the only time in the series Holmes is actually defeated). Independent, mercenary, and probably a better person than the people she's scamming. Realizes immediately that she's given herself away (you can't fool the eyetracker) and disappears into the night with her photos, but leaving a picture of herself in their place. She promises to never use the naught photos, and Holmes believes her.
In the adaptations: The female villain, working for Moriarty. Highly sexualized to match/break Holmes' asexuality. The love interest, if there is any. Holmes becomes fascinated by her after she outsmarts him. And because she outsmarts him. Often this fascination is mutual.
I should also mention Inspector Lestrade. He may be the only minor character who actually appears in multiple stories, but it's hard to say because I honestly don't remember him from the books. That might say something. In the adaptations he varies wildly from helpful-but-inadequate to goodnatured-but-incompetant to quasi-villainous (to the butt-monkey). His job, other than being the liaison with Scotland Yard, is to be slightly more wrong than Watson. Lestrade gives the obvious answer, Watson gives the answer the audience comes up with if they were paying attention, and Holmes gives the correct answer. But he is certainly the character with the most variation across adaptations.
In general, Sherlock treats these characters well. Moriarty is...bizarre, but effective, and inverts Holmes nicely. (It just occurred to me that the big, final showdown is also over water - although if Jim and Sherlock were to tumble off the diving board together neither of them would be very much the worse for wear). Mycroft is phenomenal, and gives whole new meaning to the phrase "Big Brother is watching you." Although they're teetering on the edge of the "straight-up cleverer than his brother" thing, but I don't think they'll fall on the wrong side. Lestrade is the most respectful treatment I've ever seen, falling squarely in the helpful-but-inadequate camp. He's pretty awesome. Wrong, but competent.
The women fare less well. We've seen nary hide nor hair of Mary Morestand, and, actually, we may not, given that the overwhelming dynamic of the show is the Friendship between Holmes and Watson. (This was brought sharply into focus with the most recent episode: "They were wrong when they said you were a terrible boyfriend; Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man.") I don't know if there's room for a Mary Morestand in what they've built here - and if there is, it won't be for a long while - they still have plenty of bachelor days in Baker Street to go.
Mary is sort of made up for in the character of Mrs. Hudson, who has been elevated to quite a Character. She's gorgeous. I love the way she frets.
And then there's Irene Adler. Typical for the adaptations, she's working with Moriarty, extremely sexualized, and utterly mesmerizing to Holmes because of her mystery. I was not really bothered by any of these three things, although the first, when examined, raises some deeply Unfortunate Implications. As others have pointed out, the actress was wonderful, the kink was handed well (and was a nice match to his asexuality), and the puzzle of her was immediate and kept him interested. So, good points.
It hadn't occurred to me to be too bothered by her working with Moriarty until someone pointed it out, possibly because I'd come to expect it. But, first off, it makes her part of the Web, while he remains the Spider, robbing her of a lot of her agency and independence. Given that, in the sources, Adler beats Holmes and Holmes beats Moriarty, if anything she should be higher up on the intellectual pecking order than he is. Then, there's the fact that there are, so far, exactly two openly homosexual characters in the show - and they're Adler and Moriarty. The two villains. Who are, incidentally, working together. Our heroes, on the other hand, are very very adamantly Not Gay. And then, suddenly, this episode becomes the story of a Strong Criminal Lesbian who is brought down (and, perhaps, redeemed) by her love for a man. Um, guys?
Irene Adler was never intended as a feminist character or statement; she was merely The Woman Who Defeated Sherlock Holmes (as opposed to the Three Men Who Defeated Sherlock Holmes). But in order to fulfill that role she had to have characteristics that we view these days as feminist: power, independence, intellect at least equal to his (and therefore superior to the vast majority of people around her); and in order to make it acceptable, she had to be villainous but not too villainous, so she can't even be taken as a morality play about what happens to women who don't stay at home with the children. All of these positive qualities are necessary results of the fact that she beats Holmes.
In "A Scandal in Belgravia", however, she doesn't beat Holmes. And so there is no longer a story need for her to retain any of the elements that made her such a strong and interesting character. Instead, he outsmarts her, belittles her for her emotional involvement, shows that her supposed power is in fact an illusion (and, what power she had was only what power other people let her have, and without it she is utterly helpless), and then has to come to her rescue. Her line about "beating" him, which could have been an intentional play on words on her part had the episode played out differently, is reduced to another tired dominatrix joke, substituting power play for genuine intellectual prowess. The photos themselves are the source of her power, not whatever individual faculty allowed her to amass or acquire them, leaving her crippled without her accessories (whereas, for Sherlock, much as he loves his phone, his chief weapon is always his mind). Even her title, "the Woman," is a conceit she made up for herself on her website - an affectation - rather than a mark of respect (and evidence of his continued fascination from him, granting her the rare, extremely rare, status of Personhood (and worthiness) in his estimation. In other material, she's The Woman because, as far as he's concerned, she's the only Woman - she is a person as he is a person and nobody else is. But here, it's a conceit - just another part of the illusion which he ultimately tears away.
The thing is, all of this could have been avoided. Easily. The ending of the episode retroactively soured all the build-up. From about the scene with Mycroft on. But here's how that scene could have gone down. So yes, S-H-E-R, he unlocks the phone, after going on and on about her sentimentality, to find - pictures of her. (probably naked pictures of her). Just of her. And then she smiles and leaves the dumbfounded brothers to get on with things. And, of course, cut the rescue scene. But even that is easy. Mycroft feeds Watson that obviously false information, Watson does his job by reporting Lie #1 to Holmes, ensuring that he'll actually believe Lie #2 - but then, instead of cutting to the rescue scene at the end, after Watson leaves, play the little gasp sound. That would tell us everything the rescue scene does, and actually more believably: She's alive, Mycroft knows, Sherlock knows, but Mycroft doesn't know that Sherlock knows. And this way, unlike in how it actually played out, it would actually be believable that Mycroft doesn't know that Sherlock knows. As I said before, in the episode itself, there's no way that Mycroft could not know that, which makes his whole up-till-now brilliant cafe scene with John...utterly pointless. Unless, as I postulated, baiting poor Watson is the Holmes brothers' version of chess by mail.
Anyway, the more I stop and really think about Irene Adler, the less I like this interpretation of her. Although, again, and always, she's still better than that chick in the recent movie. But that one was Adler In Name Only, and so, in a way, less offensive to what they've done to the character here.
Although, on the upside, it really makes me want to go read "A Scandal in Bohemia" again.