"Women are a bit harder to read" - end of Elementary s1 rewatch
The transition period between the first and the second half of the season re: Joan (sober companion versus graduating detective-in-training) was more transitionary, in lack of a better term, than I had remembered, or rather, it's ironic that at the point where Joan isn't officially Sherlock's sober companion anymore and hasn't yet accepted her new detective identity that we get her at her most sober companionest. By which mean A Gun fully loaded with Drugs, aka the Rhys the (ex?) drug dealer episode. Aside from the obvious reason - i.e. drug dealer, ex or not, in the house of recovering drug addict is about one of the triggeriest situations you can imagine, and that's leaving out what actually happens near the end -, it's also the first time we see Joan in protective friend mode. Given that she's at this point staying around without a salary out of M related concern, this is not surprising: Joan has a far easier time realising "this person has become my friend, and I'm invested in his welfare beyond my professional duty" than she has to admit "I really like being a detective better than being a sober companion, I do want to make that radical life change for good".
The Rhys episode is of course also fascinating in regard to the two s3 Oscar episodes. Before rewatching it, I sometimes wondered whether Sherlock was supposed to have used both of them as dealers at the same time, but the rewatch left me with the impression his connection with Rhys had been a London based one and that by the time they re-met in New York (previous to this episode) Rhys had already quit the business, whereas Oscar was his supplier during his complete crash down in New York. There are enough structural similarities between the Rhys episode and the s3 finale, A Controlled Descent, to make me briefly wonder whether the producers originally wanted to bring Rhys back and John Hannah wasn't available, though; otoh not only does Sherlock relate to the two men quite differently (up to a point), but they to him (up to a point), so if Oscar had originally been meant to be Rhys, that would have necessitated some heavy rewriting. Here's what I mean about similarities: both Rhys and Oscar show up at Sherlock's so he can find a beloved female relation for them who is in danger (Rhys' daughter Emily versus Oscar's sister Olivia). (Well, we later learn Olivia is alrready dead and Oscar knows that, but bear with me.) In both cases, kidnapping and the danger to the kidnapped person, the desperate need to find him/her in time, enhances the pressure on Sherlock. (In the Rhys episode, Emily herself is kidnapped, in the s3 finale, it's Alfredo.) In both episodes, the old drug dealer then offers drugs to Sherlock. In both episodes, Sherlock is triggered enough to become violent towards the drug dealer. (In Rhys' case, he does so immediately following the offer, in Oscar's, he waits until finding out Alfredo is save.) In both episodes, Sherlock swallows a lot of personal pride and is willing to undergo humiliation in order to save the kidnapped victim. (In the Rhys episode, he calls his father - something the show has previously and will subsequently establish as something he just never does due to the castastrophic state of affairs between them - to ask for the money to pay Emily's ransom; in the Oscar case, going along with Oscar the entire time until Joan's call is one long humiliation for Alfredo's sake.) This, btw, is an important character point because it clarifies, if it needs clarifying, that saving the kidnapped victim is more important to this Sherlock Holmes than ego, despite the pride in his intellect.
The differences: despite some cautionary restraint, Sherlock does consider Rhys a friend, and while he tells him never to darken his doorstep again after the drug offer, he does forgive him by the time the episode ends (which of course is also related to Rhys doing his bit to preserve Joan's life in between), whereas Oscar is a case of projected self loathing par excellence. The two men are also presented quite differently; Rhys - whom John Hannah plays with relaxed charm - may have spent most of his ill-gained money, but he's not poor, he's not an addict himself, and his driving motivation through the episode really is to save his daughter; when he tries to get Sherlock to use some cocaine, it's out of belief this would make Sherlock arrive at the solution faster, not with the end goal of reestablishing their old connection via addiction. He's also aware of the wrongness of his actions and able to repent them. Oscar, otoh, is presented as needy addiction stripped bare of all social niceties and human camouflage. He's an addict himself. He's poor. He's desperate. He has no concern for anyone else outside of the drug related world (Olivia is arguable, but she was a fellow drug addict in addition to being his sister).
Given all of this, it's not surprising, really, that Sherlock is able to interact amiably with Rhys - who is an acceptable face of his drug taking past, with virtues as well as flaws, making it look redeamable - but not with Oscar, who is an unbearable mirror and a worst case future (the Gollum to his Frodo, if you will).
Another episode in this transition period with great relevance to the s3 events is The Deductionist, in which we meet FBI profiler Kathryn Drummond. ) This is also one of the more interesting cases of the week, because as it turns out the serial killer who escapes right at the start actually has a good and non-serial killer crazy reason to resent Kathryn: not only did she speculate - wrongly - that he was sexually abused by his father as a child, but she also published it as a fact in a book despite not having any real evidence for it other than her speculation, which caused the death of both parents. Otoh the show takes care to not present her as a fraud per se: her profile on Sherlock Holmes correctly predicted his downward drug spiral, and her projected ending for him - "self annihilation" is the exact term she uses in her profile - is one he knows himself to be capable of and fears, which is one reason why he's so angry with her. (Given the s3 finale events, the prediction of self annihilation has even more resonance.) The other is that she profiled him in the first case and published it. An early, not last example of Elementary's Sherlock Holmes reacting really badly to something like this. (I originally wrote "the first", but then I recalled his reaction when Joan found out about Irene from Alistair.) I spent some time wondering whether he's hypocritical here, just a case of the observer not wanting to be observed, given his tendency to blurt out all kind of personal details he deduces both about cases of the week and about his friends, including their sex lives, whether or not he's alone with them. But then I thought: the difference is the confidentiality aspect. Nothing this Holmes says out loud was entrusted to him as a confidence, he deduces it. (I don't think we have an example of him being told something in confidence verbally and going on to share it with others without the original teller's agreement.) Whereas in Kathryn Drummond's case, they were working on a case together in London and were sexually involved, and she used what she learned about him during that time. Then there's the s3 case of the blogger who posts part of what Sherlock says in NA meetings, which aside from making him angry at the time in retrospect plays its part in eroding his hold on sobriety. The most benevolent example is finding out Joan's writing about some of their cases together, which as Kitty points out to him disturbs him partly because Joan knows him best and reading her considered judgment is different than hearing it verbally. But there's also the confidentiality aspect playing in, not as badly because Joan (as yet) hasn't published her writings.
It's probably significant we only see Joan's therapist during those transition episodes, though the implication of their conversations is that Joan's been visiting her for a while. After Joan has decided to embrace the detective life fully, the therapist isn't seen again; she's less a character than a plot device to spell out Joan's options and the drawbacks on what she's embarking to do, to give the audience a look at Joan's thought process. Which is probably why the show didn't keep her around. After all, the episode where Joan's friends decide to stage an intervention fulfills much the same purpose and it feels more natural. Ditto, btw, for Gregson's later attempt to get Joan another sober companion job after the pursuit of Moriarty has heated up. This gives Joan the opportunity to argue back (and point out no matter how well motivated, he's behaving patronisingly), but it's a scene between two characters the audience cares about, who both act the way they do for understandable motives, and thus doesn't feel espositionary the way the scenes of Joan and her therapist early in the second half of s1 do. Speaking of Gregson, another shift and transition in retrospect is that for the first half of s1, he's the cop closest to Holmes; post-M and onwards, Bell becomes that (starting with the practical; pre-M, it's Gregson whom Holmes calls when contacting the NYPD for whatever reason, post-M, it's Bell), and for a good reason. I've seen the argument that there aren't real consequences between Gregson and Holmes after the scene in the bar (complete with bunch) post M, but I disagree, because especially with the subsequent show in mind, what Gregson says in that scene - that yes, he'll continue to work with Holmes as a consultant, because this does save lives, but he'll never trust him as he used to again - is just what turns out to be true. Just because Gregson doesn't cold shoulder Sherlock anymore in the later half of s1 doesn't mean they're back to pre-M relations; there's an degree of closeness irrevocably lost. And when Gregson at the start of s3 tells Holmes that it's up to Watson whether or not they'll take him back as a consultant, because Watson has become their go to consultant by then and as opposed to Holmes she's reliable, there's no doubt he means it.
Joan as a learning detective in later s1 gets two subplots, but her "graduating" case, so to speak, is of course Moriarty. This also the first time we see Sherlock hand over the investigation to Joan, and it says something about how well the series has presented Joan's learning process and getting better at the deductive method a la Sherlock while also bringing on her own medical background and emotional insight until this point that as an audience member, you both believe this and share his confidence in her. On a parallel level, of course, the show established Irene Adler's emotional importance to Sherlock throughout the first season to make his decision at the start of the finale two parter understandable from that angle as well. Which brings me to the big s1 twist. I still love all the ways the twist plays not solely with Doyle but all the many decades of fanon that have built up since. After all, Irene Adler shows up only in one ACD story, Moriarty in solely two, and int can be argued that their importance in fannish minds is far more due to what subsequent adaptions made of them than to what Doyle actually wrote about them. Irene as a love interest (something Watson explicitly denies she was in her story), Irene as fridged in order to create pain for Sherlock, Irene is menaced/threatened by Moriarty, Irene as working with or for Moriarty, these are all adaption, not Doyle choices, and Elementary uses them all only to turn them upside down. Irene's death is the trigger that sent Sherlock spiralling into self destruction, but Irene isn't really dead; it was a scenario deliberately created by her to get a reaction from him (though not this one, as it turns out). Irene is threatened by Moriarty and used against Sherlock; except not really, it turns out to be another ruse. Irene is working with Moriarty - Sherlock's last assumption before realising the truth - except not really: because Irene IS Moriarty, and the Irene Adler persona was a creation by Moriarty the entire time.
The flashbacks in The Woman are important; not so much for adding new plot information (the story they tell, of Sherlock meeting, falling in love with and losing Irene Adler is already familiar to the audience at this point) but for the character information they contain. Not least because they make it clear (even before the big reveal moment) that the seemingly fragile Irene "rescued" wasn't the one Sherlock fell in love with. So how different is Jamie Moriarty from Irene Adler, fake American accent for the later aside, in retrospect? Well, there's the obvious - Irene may have been forging the occasional painting, but she didn't regard murder as a business method; she's presented as someone who creates, not who destroys, which is what Moriarty does emotionally as well as in a lethal way; all her criminal s1 actions include her blackmailing other people into comitting crimes on her behalf by exploiting their vulnerabilities. But other than that, Irene as remembered by Sherlock in the flashbacks is already a lot like Moriarty. She loves games and challenges (their very first encounter is both), she values uniqueness (this is nicer presented than Moriarty's open disdain for the rest of humanity, but the emphasis on only being drawn to unique people as well as artistic masterpieces is already there), and she's considering herself to be exempt from the rules governing the rest of society. (Again, in a more harmless way than Moriarty, but "this work of art deserves to be saved from the stupid museum official who wanted me to restore it wrongly, and saving it means I get to keep it" is a recognizable variation from Moriarty's idea of humanity consisting of suckers who have it coming and two geniuses. The seemingly benevolent Irene variation is also something Sherlock, who at his worst definitely considers himself to be above all human rules - ask Gregson - can recognize and identify with.) That Irene Adler is an art historian/restorer/forger turns out to be due to Jamie Moriarty having a genuine fondness for painting (which she'll keep on doing long after the Irene persona is finished), except that Irene, as is a point in the flashbacks, never paints originals, and Moriarty does. (The most memorable Moriarty original the show has presented yet is the portrait of Joan she's working on in s2, but if you take the work of art term less literal, than killing off Irene Adler the way she does - establishing M's modus of killing, letting Sherlock find Irene's blood in Irene's studio - is a sadistic creation as well, a la Angelus in Passion.)
A Moriarty related cliché Elementary breaks is that she notably doesn't try to use Watson as leverage; their shared lunch is really just that, their shared lunch, not Moriarty trying to use Joan as a hostage. It's partly because to use Watson she'd have to admit her importance, and at that stage she's still refusing to do so, instead going the belittling route, but I think it's also because she really has trouble figuring Watson out, and is curious even before the grand klimax of Heroine establishes Joan Watson as a new nemesis to her. It's the drawback of the elitist mindset, the insistence on the division between genius and mundane masses. If Moriarty does perform the usual narrative function of being Holmes' dark mirror, she's all the elitism, antisocial tendencies and entitledness turned up to the nth degree and stripped of any compassion or empathy, which also means no way to form relationships with someone like Joan Watson. (BTW, this is also one reason why I can't ship Moriarty/Watson. I mean, I can totally see it from Moriarty's side, because obviously from the moment Joan defeats her, she's absolutely fascinated by her. It's also worth noting that it's Moriarty, not Holmes, who uses the classic "my dear Watson" phrase - twice in the s1 finale alone. But I can't see it from Joan's side. She's unwilling to let Sherlock get away with his occasional jerkish behavior, and Sherlock doesn't - M - aside consider killing and torturing people a life style. She'd never be willing to get emotionally intimate with someone who does. And that's leaving aside that as opposed to the other way around, she doesn't show any interest in Moriarty as a person, solely in the effect Moriarty has on Holmes.)
The symbolism of the last scene, Joan and Sherlock on the roof witnessing the birth of a new kind of bee Sherlock named after her, Glossolia Watsonia, has often been talked about. What struck me this time around, other than Joan's expression of joy, is that Sherlock mentions this bee will be the first of many. Which I think is important, with all the talk of uniqueness in the previous episodes. The new species ows its existence to the coupling of a rare bee (which Sherlock got in a previous episode from a client) with the queen of an existing stock, something considered impossible yet happening, and the produced is new and special, but it's not another singular event. It's a new community. Elementary uses the famous opening line of A Scandal in Bohemia ("To Sherlock Holmes she was always THE woman etc.") in dialogue by letting Holmes say it himself, including the "eclipsed the entirey of her sex" conclusion, two episodes earlier. But if Irene-Adler-as-the-special-one were simply replaced by Joan-Watson-as-the-special-one in his emotional cosmos, there'd be no progress. (Leaving aside the relationship with Joan isn't sexual.) It simply would be "there's Joan, and then there's everyone else" instead of "there's Irene, and there's everyone else". But what makes Holmes unlike Moriarty in this incarnation, in addition to the concern for life (99% of the time), is the ability to form more than one relationship. What makes the relationship with Watson different is that it's inclusive, not exclusive. Joan encourages the ties to others - Gregson and Bell, Alfredo -; not coincidentally when the relationship threatens to become exclusive (i.e. Sherlock reacting extremely badly to her decision to move out at the end of s2), it's time for a break, and what repairs it again is the biggest demonstration of inclusivity yet, the adoption of Kitty into it in the first half of s3, Sherlock responding to Joan's temporary "I must become a hermit" idea not with "yay" but with encouraging her to keep contact with her other friends instead in the second half. So the birth of the bee at the end of s1 manages to be both special and communal, if that's the right term in English.
Revisiting the first season has been lovely. But now I'm missing the show all over again!
This entry was originally posted at http://selenak.dreamwidth.org/1084818.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.
The Rhys episode is of course also fascinating in regard to the two s3 Oscar episodes. Before rewatching it, I sometimes wondered whether Sherlock was supposed to have used both of them as dealers at the same time, but the rewatch left me with the impression his connection with Rhys had been a London based one and that by the time they re-met in New York (previous to this episode) Rhys had already quit the business, whereas Oscar was his supplier during his complete crash down in New York. There are enough structural similarities between the Rhys episode and the s3 finale, A Controlled Descent, to make me briefly wonder whether the producers originally wanted to bring Rhys back and John Hannah wasn't available, though; otoh not only does Sherlock relate to the two men quite differently (up to a point), but they to him (up to a point), so if Oscar had originally been meant to be Rhys, that would have necessitated some heavy rewriting. Here's what I mean about similarities: both Rhys and Oscar show up at Sherlock's so he can find a beloved female relation for them who is in danger (Rhys' daughter Emily versus Oscar's sister Olivia). (Well, we later learn Olivia is alrready dead and Oscar knows that, but bear with me.) In both cases, kidnapping and the danger to the kidnapped person, the desperate need to find him/her in time, enhances the pressure on Sherlock. (In the Rhys episode, Emily herself is kidnapped, in the s3 finale, it's Alfredo.) In both episodes, the old drug dealer then offers drugs to Sherlock. In both episodes, Sherlock is triggered enough to become violent towards the drug dealer. (In Rhys' case, he does so immediately following the offer, in Oscar's, he waits until finding out Alfredo is save.) In both episodes, Sherlock swallows a lot of personal pride and is willing to undergo humiliation in order to save the kidnapped victim. (In the Rhys episode, he calls his father - something the show has previously and will subsequently establish as something he just never does due to the castastrophic state of affairs between them - to ask for the money to pay Emily's ransom; in the Oscar case, going along with Oscar the entire time until Joan's call is one long humiliation for Alfredo's sake.) This, btw, is an important character point because it clarifies, if it needs clarifying, that saving the kidnapped victim is more important to this Sherlock Holmes than ego, despite the pride in his intellect.
The differences: despite some cautionary restraint, Sherlock does consider Rhys a friend, and while he tells him never to darken his doorstep again after the drug offer, he does forgive him by the time the episode ends (which of course is also related to Rhys doing his bit to preserve Joan's life in between), whereas Oscar is a case of projected self loathing par excellence. The two men are also presented quite differently; Rhys - whom John Hannah plays with relaxed charm - may have spent most of his ill-gained money, but he's not poor, he's not an addict himself, and his driving motivation through the episode really is to save his daughter; when he tries to get Sherlock to use some cocaine, it's out of belief this would make Sherlock arrive at the solution faster, not with the end goal of reestablishing their old connection via addiction. He's also aware of the wrongness of his actions and able to repent them. Oscar, otoh, is presented as needy addiction stripped bare of all social niceties and human camouflage. He's an addict himself. He's poor. He's desperate. He has no concern for anyone else outside of the drug related world (Olivia is arguable, but she was a fellow drug addict in addition to being his sister).
Given all of this, it's not surprising, really, that Sherlock is able to interact amiably with Rhys - who is an acceptable face of his drug taking past, with virtues as well as flaws, making it look redeamable - but not with Oscar, who is an unbearable mirror and a worst case future (the Gollum to his Frodo, if you will).
Another episode in this transition period with great relevance to the s3 events is The Deductionist, in which we meet FBI profiler Kathryn Drummond. ) This is also one of the more interesting cases of the week, because as it turns out the serial killer who escapes right at the start actually has a good and non-serial killer crazy reason to resent Kathryn: not only did she speculate - wrongly - that he was sexually abused by his father as a child, but she also published it as a fact in a book despite not having any real evidence for it other than her speculation, which caused the death of both parents. Otoh the show takes care to not present her as a fraud per se: her profile on Sherlock Holmes correctly predicted his downward drug spiral, and her projected ending for him - "self annihilation" is the exact term she uses in her profile - is one he knows himself to be capable of and fears, which is one reason why he's so angry with her. (Given the s3 finale events, the prediction of self annihilation has even more resonance.) The other is that she profiled him in the first case and published it. An early, not last example of Elementary's Sherlock Holmes reacting really badly to something like this. (I originally wrote "the first", but then I recalled his reaction when Joan found out about Irene from Alistair.) I spent some time wondering whether he's hypocritical here, just a case of the observer not wanting to be observed, given his tendency to blurt out all kind of personal details he deduces both about cases of the week and about his friends, including their sex lives, whether or not he's alone with them. But then I thought: the difference is the confidentiality aspect. Nothing this Holmes says out loud was entrusted to him as a confidence, he deduces it. (I don't think we have an example of him being told something in confidence verbally and going on to share it with others without the original teller's agreement.) Whereas in Kathryn Drummond's case, they were working on a case together in London and were sexually involved, and she used what she learned about him during that time. Then there's the s3 case of the blogger who posts part of what Sherlock says in NA meetings, which aside from making him angry at the time in retrospect plays its part in eroding his hold on sobriety. The most benevolent example is finding out Joan's writing about some of their cases together, which as Kitty points out to him disturbs him partly because Joan knows him best and reading her considered judgment is different than hearing it verbally. But there's also the confidentiality aspect playing in, not as badly because Joan (as yet) hasn't published her writings.
It's probably significant we only see Joan's therapist during those transition episodes, though the implication of their conversations is that Joan's been visiting her for a while. After Joan has decided to embrace the detective life fully, the therapist isn't seen again; she's less a character than a plot device to spell out Joan's options and the drawbacks on what she's embarking to do, to give the audience a look at Joan's thought process. Which is probably why the show didn't keep her around. After all, the episode where Joan's friends decide to stage an intervention fulfills much the same purpose and it feels more natural. Ditto, btw, for Gregson's later attempt to get Joan another sober companion job after the pursuit of Moriarty has heated up. This gives Joan the opportunity to argue back (and point out no matter how well motivated, he's behaving patronisingly), but it's a scene between two characters the audience cares about, who both act the way they do for understandable motives, and thus doesn't feel espositionary the way the scenes of Joan and her therapist early in the second half of s1 do. Speaking of Gregson, another shift and transition in retrospect is that for the first half of s1, he's the cop closest to Holmes; post-M and onwards, Bell becomes that (starting with the practical; pre-M, it's Gregson whom Holmes calls when contacting the NYPD for whatever reason, post-M, it's Bell), and for a good reason. I've seen the argument that there aren't real consequences between Gregson and Holmes after the scene in the bar (complete with bunch) post M, but I disagree, because especially with the subsequent show in mind, what Gregson says in that scene - that yes, he'll continue to work with Holmes as a consultant, because this does save lives, but he'll never trust him as he used to again - is just what turns out to be true. Just because Gregson doesn't cold shoulder Sherlock anymore in the later half of s1 doesn't mean they're back to pre-M relations; there's an degree of closeness irrevocably lost. And when Gregson at the start of s3 tells Holmes that it's up to Watson whether or not they'll take him back as a consultant, because Watson has become their go to consultant by then and as opposed to Holmes she's reliable, there's no doubt he means it.
Joan as a learning detective in later s1 gets two subplots, but her "graduating" case, so to speak, is of course Moriarty. This also the first time we see Sherlock hand over the investigation to Joan, and it says something about how well the series has presented Joan's learning process and getting better at the deductive method a la Sherlock while also bringing on her own medical background and emotional insight until this point that as an audience member, you both believe this and share his confidence in her. On a parallel level, of course, the show established Irene Adler's emotional importance to Sherlock throughout the first season to make his decision at the start of the finale two parter understandable from that angle as well. Which brings me to the big s1 twist. I still love all the ways the twist plays not solely with Doyle but all the many decades of fanon that have built up since. After all, Irene Adler shows up only in one ACD story, Moriarty in solely two, and int can be argued that their importance in fannish minds is far more due to what subsequent adaptions made of them than to what Doyle actually wrote about them. Irene as a love interest (something Watson explicitly denies she was in her story), Irene as fridged in order to create pain for Sherlock, Irene is menaced/threatened by Moriarty, Irene as working with or for Moriarty, these are all adaption, not Doyle choices, and Elementary uses them all only to turn them upside down. Irene's death is the trigger that sent Sherlock spiralling into self destruction, but Irene isn't really dead; it was a scenario deliberately created by her to get a reaction from him (though not this one, as it turns out). Irene is threatened by Moriarty and used against Sherlock; except not really, it turns out to be another ruse. Irene is working with Moriarty - Sherlock's last assumption before realising the truth - except not really: because Irene IS Moriarty, and the Irene Adler persona was a creation by Moriarty the entire time.
The flashbacks in The Woman are important; not so much for adding new plot information (the story they tell, of Sherlock meeting, falling in love with and losing Irene Adler is already familiar to the audience at this point) but for the character information they contain. Not least because they make it clear (even before the big reveal moment) that the seemingly fragile Irene "rescued" wasn't the one Sherlock fell in love with. So how different is Jamie Moriarty from Irene Adler, fake American accent for the later aside, in retrospect? Well, there's the obvious - Irene may have been forging the occasional painting, but she didn't regard murder as a business method; she's presented as someone who creates, not who destroys, which is what Moriarty does emotionally as well as in a lethal way; all her criminal s1 actions include her blackmailing other people into comitting crimes on her behalf by exploiting their vulnerabilities. But other than that, Irene as remembered by Sherlock in the flashbacks is already a lot like Moriarty. She loves games and challenges (their very first encounter is both), she values uniqueness (this is nicer presented than Moriarty's open disdain for the rest of humanity, but the emphasis on only being drawn to unique people as well as artistic masterpieces is already there), and she's considering herself to be exempt from the rules governing the rest of society. (Again, in a more harmless way than Moriarty, but "this work of art deserves to be saved from the stupid museum official who wanted me to restore it wrongly, and saving it means I get to keep it" is a recognizable variation from Moriarty's idea of humanity consisting of suckers who have it coming and two geniuses. The seemingly benevolent Irene variation is also something Sherlock, who at his worst definitely considers himself to be above all human rules - ask Gregson - can recognize and identify with.) That Irene Adler is an art historian/restorer/forger turns out to be due to Jamie Moriarty having a genuine fondness for painting (which she'll keep on doing long after the Irene persona is finished), except that Irene, as is a point in the flashbacks, never paints originals, and Moriarty does. (The most memorable Moriarty original the show has presented yet is the portrait of Joan she's working on in s2, but if you take the work of art term less literal, than killing off Irene Adler the way she does - establishing M's modus of killing, letting Sherlock find Irene's blood in Irene's studio - is a sadistic creation as well, a la Angelus in Passion.)
A Moriarty related cliché Elementary breaks is that she notably doesn't try to use Watson as leverage; their shared lunch is really just that, their shared lunch, not Moriarty trying to use Joan as a hostage. It's partly because to use Watson she'd have to admit her importance, and at that stage she's still refusing to do so, instead going the belittling route, but I think it's also because she really has trouble figuring Watson out, and is curious even before the grand klimax of Heroine establishes Joan Watson as a new nemesis to her. It's the drawback of the elitist mindset, the insistence on the division between genius and mundane masses. If Moriarty does perform the usual narrative function of being Holmes' dark mirror, she's all the elitism, antisocial tendencies and entitledness turned up to the nth degree and stripped of any compassion or empathy, which also means no way to form relationships with someone like Joan Watson. (BTW, this is also one reason why I can't ship Moriarty/Watson. I mean, I can totally see it from Moriarty's side, because obviously from the moment Joan defeats her, she's absolutely fascinated by her. It's also worth noting that it's Moriarty, not Holmes, who uses the classic "my dear Watson" phrase - twice in the s1 finale alone. But I can't see it from Joan's side. She's unwilling to let Sherlock get away with his occasional jerkish behavior, and Sherlock doesn't - M - aside consider killing and torturing people a life style. She'd never be willing to get emotionally intimate with someone who does. And that's leaving aside that as opposed to the other way around, she doesn't show any interest in Moriarty as a person, solely in the effect Moriarty has on Holmes.)
The symbolism of the last scene, Joan and Sherlock on the roof witnessing the birth of a new kind of bee Sherlock named after her, Glossolia Watsonia, has often been talked about. What struck me this time around, other than Joan's expression of joy, is that Sherlock mentions this bee will be the first of many. Which I think is important, with all the talk of uniqueness in the previous episodes. The new species ows its existence to the coupling of a rare bee (which Sherlock got in a previous episode from a client) with the queen of an existing stock, something considered impossible yet happening, and the produced is new and special, but it's not another singular event. It's a new community. Elementary uses the famous opening line of A Scandal in Bohemia ("To Sherlock Holmes she was always THE woman etc.") in dialogue by letting Holmes say it himself, including the "eclipsed the entirey of her sex" conclusion, two episodes earlier. But if Irene-Adler-as-the-special-one were simply replaced by Joan-Watson-as-the-special-one in his emotional cosmos, there'd be no progress. (Leaving aside the relationship with Joan isn't sexual.) It simply would be "there's Joan, and then there's everyone else" instead of "there's Irene, and there's everyone else". But what makes Holmes unlike Moriarty in this incarnation, in addition to the concern for life (99% of the time), is the ability to form more than one relationship. What makes the relationship with Watson different is that it's inclusive, not exclusive. Joan encourages the ties to others - Gregson and Bell, Alfredo -; not coincidentally when the relationship threatens to become exclusive (i.e. Sherlock reacting extremely badly to her decision to move out at the end of s2), it's time for a break, and what repairs it again is the biggest demonstration of inclusivity yet, the adoption of Kitty into it in the first half of s3, Sherlock responding to Joan's temporary "I must become a hermit" idea not with "yay" but with encouraging her to keep contact with her other friends instead in the second half. So the birth of the bee at the end of s1 manages to be both special and communal, if that's the right term in English.
Revisiting the first season has been lovely. But now I'm missing the show all over again!
This entry was originally posted at http://selenak.dreamwidth.org/1084818.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.