2.1 Step Nine Over the twenty-odd episodes that followed, the relationship went from one of tentative curiosity to knockabout warmth. It wasn’t the most brilliant of shows, this new friend of ours, but Elementary had more than its share of great moments and never failed to entertain. A calendar year on, we bounded up the Brownstone’s steps, ready to embrace season two like an old friend. Not that anyone was home. The second season premiere had relocated Holmes and Watson to London, a temporary palate-cleansing move that swilled out the aftertaste of season one’s closing Moriarty arc and readies us for adventures new. Indeed, there was no mention of the M-word at all, Natalie Dormer’s switcheroo character going unmentioned in a story that took in Holmes’ past wrongs against two men in his life; brother Mycroft (Rhys Ifans), and former Scotland Yard colleague Lestrade (Sean Pertwee). Against the familiar though, Elementary’s many gentle evolutions since its season one premiere stood out in stark relief. Lucy Liu’s Watson is no longer an exasperated nag, but a true partner of Sherlock, and, as Mycroft comes to realise, Holmes’ only friend. The once-central issue of Sherlock’s addiction is still present (addressed in the meeting he left in pursuit of pigeons and this episode’s twelve step emotional catalyst) but it’s been shifted sideways to make room for Watson’s apprenticeship in the art of detective consultancy. It was good to see the self-defence thread carried through from last season with Watson performing that Miss Piggy hi-ya! on the absconding baddie in the park. It’s the same but different then, a drama changed and made satisfyingly richer by its past. You don’t have to have been frustrated by the tabula rasa approach of any number of short-memoried network shows to know what a pleasure that is. Dressed like Razorlight’s seedy step-dad, Elementary’s version of Mycroft is both a treat and an enigma. A Michelin-starred restaurateur with more meticulous taste in home furnishings than his brother but a similar flair for the dramatic (boom!), he’s neither the unmotivated wastrel of the Conan Doyle stories, nor the mirror of Sherlock’s emotional stiffness as seen in Mark Gatiss’ BBC Mycroft. Does he share Sherlock’s extraordinary mind? What is the reason for the siblings’ estrangement (other than the obvious fiancée “misadventures”)? Mycroft’s introduction here had the intended effect on me: my interest in the mysteries of Sherlock and the Holmes family has been rekindled. Let’s see him back, and sharpish. Follow our Twitter feed for faster news and bad jokes right here. And be our Facebook chum here.
