|"I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me."|
This past week the Daughter has enjoyed the BBC’s updated take on Arthur Conan Doyle's beloved mystery tales in “Sherlock.”
The star is Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch, who modestly truncates his name to Benedict Cumberbatch to make it more accessible for Americans, who still snigger anyway.
The eccentric sleuth , now more snarky, more eccentric than ever, prowls the streets of modern-day London in search of clues. At his side is flatmate Dr. John Watson, fresh from the war in Afghanistan.
Watson updates Sherlock’s blog, inviting criminals to go tete-a-tete with the tightly wound Sherlock. Modern media platforms and mobile devises figure prominently in several of the episodes. Dr. Watson is the one who handles the firearms in the rare moment when such is needed.
I suspect the main attraction for the daughter is the rapid-fire and caustically acerbic wit emitted from Cumberbatch’s pursed lips.
Beats “My Little Pony” by a whopping 12 parsecs.