"Sherlock Holmes: A Generic Sequel Subtitle."
WELL I LIKED IT.
Not to say it wasn't daft. But it was genial and energetic and had the best Moriarty I've seen in ages, despite his unpromising beard.
In fact, here, in detail, are my reactions...
WATSON: I want to get married!
HOLMES: Don’t get married!
WATSON: I want to get married!
HOLMES: Don’t get married!
WAID: We’re still doing this? I thought Holmes had more or less got over it in the first film?
IRENE: *dies*
HOLMES: *jawclench* *hankie clasp* *forgets about it*
WAID: Dammit, Ritchie.
RITCHIE: But you have to admit, killing an established character does boost Moriarty’s “actually menacing in this movie for once” cred. And who else can I kill off to achieve that?
WAID: ...It’s still fridgey as fuck, but you kind of have a point.
EVERYONE: *RUNS AROUND AND FALLS OVER AND BLOWS UP AND WATSON IS MADLY DRUNK FOR SOME REASON BUT ALSO PRETTY.*
WEDDING: *Happens.*
HOLMES AND WATSON: *Stop bitching at each other quite so much and remember they’re supposed to be charming characters who care about each other.*
WAID: \o/
HOLMES and MORIARTY: *talk CANON to each other*
MORIARTY: You all know I’m supposed to be a scary motherfucker. For once, let me illustrate that I can in fact be a SCARY MOTHERFUCKER. *plays Schubert* *instigates carnage* *terrorises Europe* *remains plausible as a genius mathematics professor*
WAID: \o/ \o/
MORIARTY: God, that Blackwood was a lightweight. Let us not even speak of that little Graham Norton fellow on the BBC. THIS IS HOW IT’S DONE. *drives anarchists to suicide*
MOVIE:* Has a virtually identical plot to Antidote to Sorrow, except with more TRAINS.*
WAID: Fuck.
RITCHIE: It’s not my fault you can’t write faster.
WAID: No, no it isn’t.
RITCHIE: TRAINS! TRAINS, TRAINS, TRAINS. TRAINS! So fast, so powerful, so cylindrical, God I love TRAINS! Everything in this movie is going to happen ON TRAINS!
HOLMES: I’M ON A TRAIN. I’M ON A TRAIN. TAKE A GOOD HARD LOOK AT THE MOTHERFUCKING TRAIN.
TRAINS: *Go fast* *Explode, etc*.
MARY: *gets to be cool for half a second*
HOLMES: *Throws her off TRAIN, because he knows that means pretty much removing her from the movie*
MYCROFT: Is NAKED because WHY NOT THAT’S WHY.
EVERYONE ELSE: TRAVELS EUROPE but never succeeds in leaving GREENWICH.
GREENWICH OBSERVATORY: * everywhere*.
GAY INNUENDOES: *also everywhere.*
RITCHIE: YOU LOVE IT.
WAID: ...
RITCHIE: WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT.
WAID: ... exploration of the relationship?
RITCHIE: *throws in some relationshippy friendship stuff*
WAID: Better.
SIMZA:*Is not as useless or extraneous to the plot as everyone said, her role’s about the same as say, Violet Hunter.*
MORIARTY AND MORAN: Beards of evil unite! *torture Holmes* *shoot at Watson*
WAID: *actually properly worried about Holmes and Watson*
GUNS: *Are all drawn as if by kismet to Watson, recognising him as their natural master.*
EVERYTHING: *Explodes*
CINEMATOGRAPHY: *Is flashy but gorgeous*
RITCHIE: HERE IS A RANDOM HURT/COMFORT NEAR-DEATH “DON’T YOU DARE DIE ON ME” SCENE ON A TRAIN FOR NO REASON!!!
WAID: This doesn’t make sense. What is Holmes even dying of here? Did I miss something?
RITCHIE: You need to examine your PRIORITIES. I said here, for your enjoyment, is a HURT/COMFORT. NEAR-DEATH SCENE. ON A TRAIN!!!
WAID: *examines priorities* ...Hooray!
HOLMES: *inexplicably dead*
WATSON: NOOOOO. SLASHY CHESTPUNCH AAARGH AAARGH LOVING RIBSMASH.
WAID: ...Erm, by the way, that doesn’t actually work like that even now and in any case I do lots of research for my fanfic and I can’t have CPR in them because they didn’t discover CPR until...
RITCHIE: DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE.
WAID: No. No you don’t.
RITCHIE: LOOK, DO YOU WANT TO SEE WATSON NOISILY ANGSTING OVER HOLMES’ APPARENT CORPSE THEN USING A PHOENIX DOWN ON HIM OR NOT?
WAID: Yes. Yes I do.
REICHENBACH: *is the scene of an international peace conference because that’s what happens with tiny little villages in the middle of nowhere*
HOLMES and SIMZA: *waltz*
WAID: *Naively imagines Watson will dance with some other lady and he and Holmes will maybe exchange MEANINGFUL LOOKS across the floor*
HOLMES and WATSON: *Only fucking go and dance with each other*
RITCHIE: HOLDING each other. In super fancy pretty CLOTHES.
WAID: ...uh...!
RITCHIE: ON A CHECKERBOARD BALLROOM FLOOR.
WAID: O___O
RITCHIE: LIKE CINDERELLA AND HER PRINCE.
WAID: Oh my God.
RITCHIE: YOU LOVE IT, SLASHGIRL.
WAID: I ... honestly think this is a little much.
RITCHIE: I SAID YOU LOVE IT.
WAID: But... in public, in 1891, and ... no one’s batting an eye, and... okay, you’re NOT going that last step and acknowledging The Gay, but at the same time you’ve taken it to a level where it’s WEIRD NOT TO, and isn’t MARRIED Watson a little concerned about Holmes being this blatant about it and what about Mary and...
RITCHIE: See Watson dance? HOLMES TAUGHT WATSON TO DANCE.
WAID: ...aww. That’s ridiculous. Aww...
RITCHIE: LOVE IT.
WAID: Oh, FINE.
PROBLEM: *Is solved because WATSON CAN DO DEDUCING because he is CLEVER and HOLMES TAUGHT HIM WELL AND TRUSTS HIM.*
WAID: (sincerely) Oh thank you Guy Ritchie!
MORIARTY and HOLMES: *Actually, literally, play chess TO THE DEATH and somehow manage to sell the hell out of it.*
WAID: It might be nice if, in his final encounter with his nemesis, Holmes spared a thought for his poor murdered Not!Girlfriend...
HOLMES: *doesn’t*
WAID: Oh, well.
HOLMES and WATSON: *Have rather beautiful silent meeting of eyes before Holmes goes over WATERFALL.*
HOLMES: *looks finally, beautifully, free and at peace as he plunges to his death.*
WATSON: *Pale and bereft at Holmes’ memorial service*
FINAL SCENE/WACKY SHENANIGANS: *stomp all over the moment*
THE END?!??!!??!!!
(WAID: You couldn’t have given the quietness and sadness another second to breathe?
RITCHIE: ...
WAID: I’m sorry. Forgot who I was talking to for a second there.
RITCHIE: But admit it, you ENJOYED the wacky shenanigans.)
WAID: All right. Yes, yes I did.
RITCHIE: I’M ON A TRAIN.)
Not to say it wasn't daft. But it was genial and energetic and had the best Moriarty I've seen in ages, despite his unpromising beard.
In fact, here, in detail, are my reactions...
WATSON: I want to get married!
HOLMES: Don’t get married!
WATSON: I want to get married!
HOLMES: Don’t get married!
WAID: We’re still doing this? I thought Holmes had more or less got over it in the first film?
IRENE: *dies*
HOLMES: *jawclench* *hankie clasp* *forgets about it*
WAID: Dammit, Ritchie.
RITCHIE: But you have to admit, killing an established character does boost Moriarty’s “actually menacing in this movie for once” cred. And who else can I kill off to achieve that?
WAID: ...It’s still fridgey as fuck, but you kind of have a point.
EVERYONE: *RUNS AROUND AND FALLS OVER AND BLOWS UP AND WATSON IS MADLY DRUNK FOR SOME REASON BUT ALSO PRETTY.*
WEDDING: *Happens.*
HOLMES AND WATSON: *Stop bitching at each other quite so much and remember they’re supposed to be charming characters who care about each other.*
WAID: \o/
HOLMES and MORIARTY: *talk CANON to each other*
MORIARTY: You all know I’m supposed to be a scary motherfucker. For once, let me illustrate that I can in fact be a SCARY MOTHERFUCKER. *plays Schubert* *instigates carnage* *terrorises Europe* *remains plausible as a genius mathematics professor*
WAID: \o/ \o/
MORIARTY: God, that Blackwood was a lightweight. Let us not even speak of that little Graham Norton fellow on the BBC. THIS IS HOW IT’S DONE. *drives anarchists to suicide*
MOVIE:* Has a virtually identical plot to Antidote to Sorrow, except with more TRAINS.*
WAID: Fuck.
RITCHIE: It’s not my fault you can’t write faster.
WAID: No, no it isn’t.
RITCHIE: TRAINS! TRAINS, TRAINS, TRAINS. TRAINS! So fast, so powerful, so cylindrical, God I love TRAINS! Everything in this movie is going to happen ON TRAINS!
HOLMES: I’M ON A TRAIN. I’M ON A TRAIN. TAKE A GOOD HARD LOOK AT THE MOTHERFUCKING TRAIN.
TRAINS: *Go fast* *Explode, etc*.
MARY: *gets to be cool for half a second*
HOLMES: *Throws her off TRAIN, because he knows that means pretty much removing her from the movie*
MYCROFT: Is NAKED because WHY NOT THAT’S WHY.
EVERYONE ELSE: TRAVELS EUROPE but never succeeds in leaving GREENWICH.
GREENWICH OBSERVATORY: * everywhere*.
GAY INNUENDOES: *also everywhere.*
RITCHIE: YOU LOVE IT.
WAID: ...
RITCHIE: WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT.
WAID: ... exploration of the relationship?
RITCHIE: *throws in some relationshippy friendship stuff*
WAID: Better.
SIMZA:*Is not as useless or extraneous to the plot as everyone said, her role’s about the same as say, Violet Hunter.*
MORIARTY AND MORAN: Beards of evil unite! *torture Holmes* *shoot at Watson*
WAID: *actually properly worried about Holmes and Watson*
GUNS: *Are all drawn as if by kismet to Watson, recognising him as their natural master.*
EVERYTHING: *Explodes*
CINEMATOGRAPHY: *Is flashy but gorgeous*
RITCHIE: HERE IS A RANDOM HURT/COMFORT NEAR-DEATH “DON’T YOU DARE DIE ON ME” SCENE ON A TRAIN FOR NO REASON!!!
WAID: This doesn’t make sense. What is Holmes even dying of here? Did I miss something?
RITCHIE: You need to examine your PRIORITIES. I said here, for your enjoyment, is a HURT/COMFORT. NEAR-DEATH SCENE. ON A TRAIN!!!
WAID: *examines priorities* ...Hooray!
HOLMES: *inexplicably dead*
WATSON: NOOOOO. SLASHY CHESTPUNCH AAARGH AAARGH LOVING RIBSMASH.
WAID: ...Erm, by the way, that doesn’t actually work like that even now and in any case I do lots of research for my fanfic and I can’t have CPR in them because they didn’t discover CPR until...
RITCHIE: DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE.
WAID: No. No you don’t.
RITCHIE: LOOK, DO YOU WANT TO SEE WATSON NOISILY ANGSTING OVER HOLMES’ APPARENT CORPSE THEN USING A PHOENIX DOWN ON HIM OR NOT?
WAID: Yes. Yes I do.
REICHENBACH: *is the scene of an international peace conference because that’s what happens with tiny little villages in the middle of nowhere*
HOLMES and SIMZA: *waltz*
WAID: *Naively imagines Watson will dance with some other lady and he and Holmes will maybe exchange MEANINGFUL LOOKS across the floor*
HOLMES and WATSON: *Only fucking go and dance with each other*
RITCHIE: HOLDING each other. In super fancy pretty CLOTHES.
WAID: ...uh...!
RITCHIE: ON A CHECKERBOARD BALLROOM FLOOR.
WAID: O___O
RITCHIE: LIKE CINDERELLA AND HER PRINCE.
WAID: Oh my God.
RITCHIE: YOU LOVE IT, SLASHGIRL.
WAID: I ... honestly think this is a little much.
RITCHIE: I SAID YOU LOVE IT.
WAID: But... in public, in 1891, and ... no one’s batting an eye, and... okay, you’re NOT going that last step and acknowledging The Gay, but at the same time you’ve taken it to a level where it’s WEIRD NOT TO, and isn’t MARRIED Watson a little concerned about Holmes being this blatant about it and what about Mary and...
RITCHIE: See Watson dance? HOLMES TAUGHT WATSON TO DANCE.
WAID: ...aww. That’s ridiculous. Aww...
RITCHIE: LOVE IT.
WAID: Oh, FINE.
PROBLEM: *Is solved because WATSON CAN DO DEDUCING because he is CLEVER and HOLMES TAUGHT HIM WELL AND TRUSTS HIM.*
WAID: (sincerely) Oh thank you Guy Ritchie!
MORIARTY and HOLMES: *Actually, literally, play chess TO THE DEATH and somehow manage to sell the hell out of it.*
WAID: It might be nice if, in his final encounter with his nemesis, Holmes spared a thought for his poor murdered Not!Girlfriend...
HOLMES: *doesn’t*
WAID: Oh, well.
HOLMES and WATSON: *Have rather beautiful silent meeting of eyes before Holmes goes over WATERFALL.*
HOLMES: *looks finally, beautifully, free and at peace as he plunges to his death.*
WATSON: *Pale and bereft at Holmes’ memorial service*
FINAL SCENE/WACKY SHENANIGANS: *stomp all over the moment*
THE END?!??!!??!!!
(WAID: You couldn’t have given the quietness and sadness another second to breathe?
RITCHIE: ...
WAID: I’m sorry. Forgot who I was talking to for a second there.
RITCHIE: But admit it, you ENJOYED the wacky shenanigans.)
WAID: All right. Yes, yes I did.
RITCHIE: I’M ON A TRAIN.)