You know the guy, right?
The guy that’s like, “Oh, that movie? The one based on (insert novel here)? I found it highly inferior to the original work. Blah, blah, blah.”
(Blah Blah Blah is a really great song, by the by.)
That guy isn’t satisfied with a good movie that is based on a novel (or comic book or video game or whatever). He wants it to be exactly the same, even though that’s impossible, because they are two completely different mediums, and I know that, really I do.
So on the flight over here, they’ve got the Sherlock Holmes film. And I’m like, “OK, sure, I’ll give it a try. Robert Downey runs around without his shirt on for a while. That should be awesome.”
(And that was pretty awesome, I have to admit.)
But then Holmes and Watson have dinner with Watson’s bride-to-be, Mary Morstan. And one of them says something about Holmes meeting her for the first time. And I’m like, “Well, that’s odd. Didn’t Holmes introduce her to Watson because she was a client of his?”
And then Holmes does his trick where he can tell all sorts of stuff about a person just from looking at them (and I have to admit, I did love the bit where Holmes is sitting alone in the restaurant waiting for Watson and Mary. Robert Downey Jr. saw everything, and you could see his interest and his frustration that he couldn’t not do it. Pretty cool acting, I have to admit).
And Mary was engaged before! And I’m like, “Well, that’s even more odd. She was never engaged.”
But then I was like, “Well, whatever, it’s just Watson. Who cares about Watson, anyhow?”
And then! AND THEN. Irene Adler stops by Holmes’ apartment (I’d have gone with Holmes’ home, but I thought the rhyme was too obvious, even for me), and says something like “It’s Irene Adler again,” and that’s when I was like “Frak this movie and everyone involved in it! She was never a client of his! She barely even met him! God damn all of you, they were never in love!”
That was when I leaned over and showed the person sitting beside me the line in my Sherlock Holmes short story collection (which I had, coincidentally, brought on the plane with me) that says this: “It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler.”
And that was when everyone was like, “Please, shut the hell up.”
So it turns out that I’m that guy. I’m a little bit ashamed, but mostly, I want to punch Guy Ritchie in the face.
Read the damn stories before you make a Sherlock Holmes movies. Have you ever heard of accuracy?
Crap, I’m doing it again.