I’m going to tell you a secret: there’s no such thing as the “best” Sherlock Holmes when it comes to screen portrayals. There’s no ranking, either by quality, canonicity (whatever that is), or hotness, that is based on anything but the ranker’s own conscious and unconscious biases. Indeed, the fact we’ve got hundreds to choose from at this point is proof of this concept--no one will ever embody the platonic Holmesian ideal… because that ideal is different for every viewer, and every era.

Like many long-lived characters, Holmes has gone through phases in how he’s presented. And, like Jesus, or Dracula, or Batman, these phases are not random. Every version is a response to something: to the text, sure, but also to history and culture and current events and what the last ten people did with Sherlock Holmes. So the question of “who wore it best” is irrelevant. The real interesting question, to me, is why each Holmes is needed in their time, and what they bring to our understanding of Sherlock Holmes and ourselves.

It’s been observed many times that there’s something timeless and magical about the great detective, in the sense that he embodies qualities that 1) are always going to be of interest and value to us and 2) is a malleable enough figure that he can be fit into a lot of different molds without becoming unrecognizable. A hero who, without any superpowers or inhuman abilities, relies on fact and logic alone to solve the world’s mysteries is a powerful hero indeed. At almost any point in human history, it’s reassuring to think that things make sense, that someone smart enough could explain that which we can’t. He also provides a fascinating set of dichotomies, existing on several knife-edges of society and culture, which makes him useful when exploring class, the urban/rural divide, emotion vs thinking, substance abuse, mental health and neurotypicality, law and order vs crime, and anti-sociability within one of the greatest bromances of all time. Holmes can take on a multitude of human attributes, depending on what you choose to focus on, and that he originally existed in a serialized, nonlinear format means no one is terribly fussed about continuity when creating new adventures--except, of course, for those whose entire Sherlockian careers has been given over to fussing over minutiae of continuity.

By cohesively and consistently embodying contradictory elements, then, Sherlock Holmes has, for over 100 years, been a persistent figure in popular culture. And the image that comes to mind when you read those words may be different from the next person to read this, and you may both believe that you are correct in your assessment that yours is the “right” Holmes. 

You’re both correct.

I’m going to outline a brief history of Holmes which is biased towards my own “unifying theory” of Holmes representation. There is not enough space here to mention every version, nor am I unaware that there will be items that do not fit this thesis. Culture, and its production, are not logical nor linear. I can merely detect patterns, amplified by various cultural moods and needs, but there will always be that writer or filmmaker who has a wild notion they get to play out. Nor do the following rough categories encapsulate every aspect of any one version, or represent any qualitative judgement. My entire point is that there really isn’t any “bad” Sherlock Holmes, because each iteration was what was considered necessary at that time and under that specific set of circumstances. You might not like them--and I myself dislike plenty. But they all have a reason to exist no matter how far off the mark they might feel to you--or to later audiences.

The first set of representations are exactly that: an attempt to put the canon on screen. The most notable of these is the series of 47 silent films starring Eille Norwood. Today those I’ve had access to look stodgy and still even by silent film standards, but at the time they were praised for their faithfulness, by no less than Arthur Conan Doyle himself. We also have, thanks to diligent film seekers and restorers, a film version of the celebrated William Gillette play, which while not really based on a single story does portray Holmes as a very heroic, stoic, upright figure. There is an attempt, however you might judge the interpretation, to recreate the feeling of the stories on film, with a scrupulous honor given the material.

Of course no time in human history is without its attempts at satire and humor, so there are several amusing takes on Holmes not meant to be taken seriously. Famously, the first known portrayal of Holmes on film is 1901’s Sherlock Holmes Baffled, which is simply a camera trick played too long, but my favorite is 1914’s The Leaping Fish which features Douglas Fairbanks as Coke Enneday. (Say the name out loud and you’ll get the gist of the film.)

Some attempts at Holmes were made in the 30s, mostly very static in the way of much early sound film, but the big push that more or less reintroduced Holmes to the US public were the Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce films of Fox and Universal in the late 30s/early 40s. Given their quality and the fact there were 14 of them, these films maintain a lasting impact on the cultural perception of Sherlock Holmes--and of Dr. Watson as a bit bumbling and stupid. But beyond that, these films served a useful cultural purpose. Rathbone’s upstanding, patrician, and beautifully heroic Holmes offered up a British hero we could not only put our faith in but see as a worthy ally, and it’s no accident that most of these films are updated to a current timeline where Holmes can take on modern problems. (Like Nazis.) This is not simply an attempt to make Holmes “relevant,” but to invite American audiences into the war effort, as Hollywood cranked up a wartime propaganda machine not limited to overtly racist newsreels about the threat from Germany and Japan.

While Holmes was assayed a few times in the 50s, (most notably for me in the television series starring Ronald Howard and H. Marion Crawford,) there was a largely dormant period as the UK and US got back to business as usual. This all changed after the cultural and political upheavals of the 1960s, giving rise to a series of films which questioned the very nature of Sherlock Holmes in various ways. The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970), They Might Be Giants (1971), and The Seven-Per-Cent Solution (1976) were all in some sense deconstructions of the myth. I do not think they are a diminishment of the heroic nature of the character, but they all do call into question what we know about him, either by prying into his personal affairs, his psychology, or by displacing his nature onto the potentially mentally unbalanced mind of a modern-day man who merely thinks he’s Sherlock Holmes. All of this reflects the unbalanced social scene of the 1970s, as long-held cultural beliefs were challenged and people sought new modes of understanding--or coping.

With the return to at least superficial socioeconomic steadiness represented by the 80s, we see some of the most prestigiously ‘faithful’ adaptations yet. Both the Soviet series starring Vasily Livanov and the British Granada series starring Jeremy Brett were beholden to the original stories in a way few had attempted in decades. Well-funded, well acted, and generally very serious works, these series served to introduce the characters of Holmes and Watson to new generations on multiple continents, with a love for the source material that, in a sense, speaks to a desire to “get back to” something lost to time. There is a nostalgia in these series, in some sense for a time that never was, that does not question the cultural assumptions contained therein. This reflects the way the 1980s represented, for many, a yearning for stability and safety. This isn’t to say that there were no risks taken in terms of production, but the thrust of these shows away from deconstruction and towards accuracy (whatever that means) implies a search for stability. And both of these versions were very popular. The 80s also saw “safe” entries into the humor and children’s movie categories with Without a Clue and Young Sherlock Holmes, both of which seemingly diverted far from canon but in relatively unthreatening and/or joking directions accessible to a wide movie-going audience.

Given their solid “completeness,” it makes sense that these icons stood for some time as the platonic ideal of Sherlock Holmes, untouched until one of the biggest proliferations of Holmes material began in 2009 with Guy Ritchie’s action movie Sherlock Holmes, starring Robert Downey, Jr, and continued with the fandom-revitalizing modern day BBC version with Benedict Cumberbatch and CBS’s Elementary starring Jonny Lee Miller. We even had a prestige entry with Ian McKellan’s 2015 film, Mr. Holmes. On the surface, these might have little in common apart from, in the first three, a very modern sensibility. But I would argue that all four of these titles explore Holmes’ presence on the neurology spectrum. Without (in most cases) overtly diagnosing Holmes with, say, having autism or otherwise being on the spectrum of neuroatypicality, all of these Holmes present a form of wrestling with their place in the larger world of “normal” people. With drug addiction, learning disorders, and emotional health far more acceptable topics of public discourse, it makes sense, and fans have long speculated about Holmes’ behavior in regards to their own diagnoses. What makes these Holmes portrayals different is that all are presented as both heroic and worthy of our regard and also having overt difficulty functioning with everyday life. One never got the sense that Basil Rathbone had bad days, and even Jeremy Brett’s sometimes jerky and eccentric Holmes (powered in part by his own undiagnosed emotional issues) went unremarked upon in the context of mental health. But for these more recent Holmes’, their brilliance cannot be separated from their struggle with chemical dependency, difficulty relating to others, or inability to relate to the world as others do. With Mr. Holmes, while his mental deterioration is not because of his special gifts, it does present unique issues given his habitual brilliance. These Sherlocks present a narrative about living in the world with a brain that is differently suited to its tasks and foibles. And this, I think, is largely because we live in a world where it is far more acceptable to discuss such things as difference, not disorder.

Recent Sherlock Holmes offerings have yet to offer up a pattern to my mind, but I will say that we are seeing a recent spate of reimaginings which focus on diversity to varying degrees. Millie Bobbie Brown plays Sherlock’s sister in Enola Holmes. Miss Sherlock offers a modern-day Japanese Holmes and Watson--who are both women. The Irregulars has a diverse cast of younger investigators and a Watson who is mixed-race--and not straight. This could imply a cultural interest in race, ethnicity, and sexual/gender identity which I think is a welcome discussion and which Holmes is perfectly capable of enfolding within his narrative umbrella.

Whatever comes next, what I think the past 120 years has shown is that Sherlock Holmes can take it. He--or she, or they--can be used to fight Nazis, to address concerns about mental health, to explore issues of race and class, or any number of things I’m sure I haven’t thought of yet. The point is that he will always stand for truth, and truth is something we, as a society, are always seeking. We will probably never have final answers for any of the larger questions we ask, and thus, Holmes will always be needed to stand for those questions as he asks them himself.

When I learned that there was a new Sherlock Holmes convention within spitting distance of Seattle, I was delighted. I was part of the late lamented Sherlock Seattle con committee, which sort of got me back into Sherlock Holmes fandom after a long absence. I joined because I thought there should be more representation of the older iterations in the BBC-focused con; now, I tend to be the voice for the new and the weird in our local scion meetings. So I was even more excited to be chosen as a speaker for LCSS, on the topic of acting and Sherlock Holmes. This was based on my debatable expertise as someone who's taught about Holmes on film and played him on stage a few times. But this entry is about my overall thoughts about the con, so I'll try to find a balance between meaningfully specific and concise.

Overall (for those who want the birds-eye view) I have to say that I am incredibly happy and impressed by the work done by the organizing team and I'm grateful for the fabulous attendees. The weekend went amazingly smoothly, the panels were a fabulous cross-section of the charmingly pedantic, obscure, socially conscious, and poetic sides of the fandom. The crowd was an admirable mix of what I'd term "old school" and internet-raised fans. And the general attitude was one of acceptance, of "big tent" Sherlockianism (in Tim Johnson's words), of joyous celebration. I usually come off of conventions feeling better about fandom than I did before, because it turns out that when you put a bunch of people who love the same thing in different ways into a room, the love usually wins out. I also want to say that I am flattered at being included; I've never given a solo talk at a convention like this, and I was in illustrious company I do not at all feel I am at the level of.

I drove down to Portland with my flatmate, Strangelock, which was emotionally significant for me because we met doing Sherlock Seattle and I feel that our partnership is very Holmes-and-Watson-ish. It's not that we break exactly on those lines, but there are more similarities than not, and so we celebrated that by dressing as the Lenfilm (Soviet) versions of the characters on Saturday.



Brad Keefauver has blogged way more articulately as I can about the specific panels, partly because he was basically live-blogging the whole way, but some thoughts.

Robert Perret's talk about the questionably scholarly nature of Sherlockian writings was a wonderfully nerdy meta-view of the fandom, which I love because it is an example of the thing it is studying, and I enjoy that kind of thing. Basically I would go to a thing about a thing every time, skipping the thing itself. Next, Sonia Fetherston & Julie McKuras presented a history of the women who have tried to break the glass ceiling of "official" Holmes society in the US which made me basically want to dig up all the past BSI dudes so I could punch them in the skull. Then, we had Chuck Kovacic's charming presentation on his recreation of the Baker Street sitting room. He has VERY strong opinions on how to do it right, and was a very entertaining speaker. Colebaltblue and  Sanguinity's talk on Holmestice was mostly stuff I already knew, but here's the thing: I thought it was an incredibly valuable addition to the program. So many people long in the fandom are entirely unaware of a lot of the more recent innovations in fanworks and sharing, and these two managed to bridge that gap beautifully, in an unthreatening and inclusive manner. I think this morning really encapsulated so much that was great about this weekend: the fact that all ways of exploring Holmes are valid, and we can all contribute in our own style.

Speaking of which, next up after lunch were the fine gentlemen from BWAHAHAHA, demonstrating the style of pugilism that might have been described in Watson's writings. (Or rather, mostly by Holmes' description of his own prowess.) If you know me, you know I've dabbed in fencing and aerials and roller skating and all kind of things and I'm definitely going to hit up one of these practices to see how I like it. See again: doing a thing about a thing instead of the thing. If I'm practicing this HISTORY of a thing I'm more interested, for some reason. Next was Nancy Holder up with her presentation about Holmes in science fiction and horror, which was a great overview of the genre fiction our hero has taken part in. It's always made me slightly uncomfortable to combine Holmes with the supernatural, mostly because I like the LOGIC of the world that he represents, and a lot of the supernatural/horror stuff sort of throws all of that into question. But that's a post for another day, maybe. Our last stop of the day was with Dr. Bruce R. Parker on the use of medicine in the canon, which was really fascinating from the perspective of a doctor. I restrained myself and did NOT ask my question about BRAIN FEVER which is one of my favorite ailments of all time, mostly because when you look it up online it's basically only... references to ACD stories.

All in all, a very satisfying day. We had some time before the banquet, and strangelock wasn't going, so we walked downtown to Powell's books and got dinner and got back in time for me to put my mustache back on and mosey on down to the banquet. Having already eaten, I caught up with some of my fellow SOBs and took in the magic show. True to my nature, I enjoyed it more than I expected because it wasn't just a magic show; it was a treatise on centuries-old conjurer gossip. The history of conjuring was just as interesting as the effects themselves.

Day two was the big day, the day of my own presentation. I dressed in a slightly more modern dapper mode, sans facial hair, and placed myself next to Brad at what we deemed the speakers' table, though it was really just half the speakers. Side note: I was so excited to finally meet Brad Keefauver. I first encountered him in 1994 in the message boards of *Prodigy, which was the home of the Wigmore Street Post Office. I still have numerous copies of that zine, where I appear alongside Brad and Lee Shackleford and other greats of the fandom. I brought one with me, for him to sign, which he graciously did, but I cannot even express how gratifying it was to meet in person one of those who accepted a weird 14 year old into one of the oldest fandoms in the world.



First came the raffle, in which I won nothing, and then it was Lyndsay Faye's turn to speak about pastiche and fanfiction and the use of Sherlock in various works. I loved the idea that all novels are sequels, that we're all just riffing off what came before, because I truly believe it. The theme of the day, I think, was "All Holmes is Good Holmes," Lyndsay set us up well with her examination of how we all write the book we want to read, and it's all okay. Nothing erases what you love about the character, and there is room for all of it.

Here's the part where it gets bleak, for me, but transcendent. Tim Johnson of the U of Minnesota delivered a prose poem that covered not just his relationship to Sherlock Holmes and his fandom over the years, but beautifully evoked the way that fandom needs to encompass all visions. I cannot come close to doing it justice, but to hear a man so steeped in the history of this character and fandom make a plea for understanding and inclusion literally made me cry. The standing ovation was the only one of the weekend, and it could not have been more deserved. He was an inspiration.

I was next, and I was devastated to go after Tim, but I spoke a bit about the history of Sherlock on film and about the ways he can be portrayed. I was trying to do something that 1) I hadn't seen done before and 2) combined my dual tracks of studying Holmes on film and playing him on stage. So I basically tried to get people thinking beyond terms of "this is my favorite" into the question of what are they doing? that works (or doesn't) for various people. It seemed well-received! And I enjoyed the comments immensely.

Last but certainly not least (and as I joked in my talk, I was glad he was after me so everyone had stuck around), was Brad Keefauver with his multiverse theory of Sherlock Holmes. It's an attempt to make all versions "true," the idea being that each discrepancy is actually a branched universe. I love this, and it dovetails neatly with the big tent plea of Tim Johnson and the all stories are sequels statement from Lyndsay Faye. I like to think my points fall in there, too, in the sense that I was talking about the multiple "right" ways of being Holmes, and the way those techniques will work on some and not all but it's not objective.

With that, the symposium was over, and after a late lunch at my favorite restaurant in Portland (Nicholas Restaurant, best pita and hummus anywhere) strangelock and I drove home. I don't know where my next fandom adventure lies, but I know I want it to be alongside these people, and I hope if they're reading this they'll stay in touch. All Holmes is Good Holmes, and getting to share him with a room full of like-minded but utterly different fans was a reminder of how rich this fictional life is.