Not too long ago, the series 3 finale of Sherlock created mayhem and endless debates in the social media circles. It’s ripples continue to make worldwide impact, what with continued exposure for the audience. Be it conventions, interviews, in-depth behind the scenes looks or just mindless bits and pieces thrown around to make sure it stays fresh in our minds, no effort was spared.
So what is it about this BBC series that has long crossed the realm of objective affection and is today one of those cult shows with its very own brand of passionate ‘Beliebers’?? Why has this iconic character whose brilliance and other worldliness has long been established and celebrated suddenly grown out of his pedant suit and become a fantasy superhero, at least for his formidable female fans?
Elsewhere, Rustin Cohle exited our television sets, probably for good, with a punched-packed hour of thrill and catharsis. Although a longer stay would have been more than welcome, he has still quite seamlessly generated his own army of admirers. Gregory House would be another case in point, whose brilliance came with its unique kind of acid. The kind we sort of looked forward to. The hit NBC series Hannibal, truly a masterful painting in the world of television has a dysfunctional story to tell as well. One too many, in fact.
This leads me to an obvious question. Is it them or is it me? Are these men so compelling that their obvious issues hold no water or do I have an affinity for the ‘crazy’? And judging by the numbers these shows manage, there are a lot of us in the same position. Why does ‘Dysfunctional’ make for such riveting television? Trust issues, rage issues, parental issues, sibling rivalry, unhealthy interdependence, PTSD, etc. The more the merrier. Would we exult and rejoice if such a bundle of multiple joys were to be delivered to our doorstep? The answer, I’m afraid, is probably yes. And therein lies the crux.
Yes, of course we would consider ourselves the luckiest if Sherlock or Will Graham or even Hannibal himself were to appear before us seeking help. Yes, of course we would shout it from the rooftops and revel in the envious rage it would send others into. Yes, of course we would ask them to be with us forever. We would, we would. As long as the infatuation would last. Because that it what a large part of this is. Schoolgirl admiration and infatuation. We have taken far too many steps in loving these men without taking enough in understanding them. These are flawed men, deeply scarred and somewhere a victim of their own extraordinary light. To make an effort to understand that would be the beginning of a respectful and lasting relationship between us and them.
So here is what I suggest. Every time you find yourself looking so deeply into Benedict Cumberbatch’s eyes that his showstopping deduction escapes you, stop. Admire him for his eyes, but admire him more for that flawless monologue.
So what is it about this BBC series that has long crossed the realm of objective affection and is today one of those cult shows with its very own brand of passionate ‘Beliebers’?? Why has this iconic character whose brilliance and other worldliness has long been established and celebrated suddenly grown out of his pedant suit and become a fantasy superhero, at least for his formidable female fans?
Elsewhere, Rustin Cohle exited our television sets, probably for good, with a punched-packed hour of thrill and catharsis. Although a longer stay would have been more than welcome, he has still quite seamlessly generated his own army of admirers. Gregory House would be another case in point, whose brilliance came with its unique kind of acid. The kind we sort of looked forward to. The hit NBC series Hannibal, truly a masterful painting in the world of television has a dysfunctional story to tell as well. One too many, in fact.
This leads me to an obvious question. Is it them or is it me? Are these men so compelling that their obvious issues hold no water or do I have an affinity for the ‘crazy’? And judging by the numbers these shows manage, there are a lot of us in the same position. Why does ‘Dysfunctional’ make for such riveting television? Trust issues, rage issues, parental issues, sibling rivalry, unhealthy interdependence, PTSD, etc. The more the merrier. Would we exult and rejoice if such a bundle of multiple joys were to be delivered to our doorstep? The answer, I’m afraid, is probably yes. And therein lies the crux.
Yes, of course we would consider ourselves the luckiest if Sherlock or Will Graham or even Hannibal himself were to appear before us seeking help. Yes, of course we would shout it from the rooftops and revel in the envious rage it would send others into. Yes, of course we would ask them to be with us forever. We would, we would. As long as the infatuation would last. Because that it what a large part of this is. Schoolgirl admiration and infatuation. We have taken far too many steps in loving these men without taking enough in understanding them. These are flawed men, deeply scarred and somewhere a victim of their own extraordinary light. To make an effort to understand that would be the beginning of a respectful and lasting relationship between us and them.
So here is what I suggest. Every time you find yourself looking so deeply into Benedict Cumberbatch’s eyes that his showstopping deduction escapes you, stop. Admire him for his eyes, but admire him more for that flawless monologue.
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