It might sound like a sacrilege to some, but season three of
Sherlock is not working for me at all. It's like a directionless whirlwind of implausible
things. The very end of episode three, including the last frame, made me groan.
Here's thing: I don't care for supervillains. I also don't
care for saving the world, or even a country. Upping the stakes doesn't
necessarily up the drama, because the source of drama and suspense comes from
following that one fictional character we came to care about. Hitchcock knew
it, Raymond Chandler knew it.
