From England to Egypt, accompanied by his elegant and trustworthy sidekicks, the intelligent yet eccentrically-refined Belgian detective Hercule Poirot pits his wits against a collection of first class deceptions.
While on vacation at a resort hotel in the West Indies, Miss Marple correctly suspects that the apparently natural death of a retired British major is actually the work of a murderer planning yet another killing.
Holmes, his friend Watson (or his brother Mycroft) work to solve the mysteries of three gables, the dying detective, a golden pince-nez, the red circle, a mazarin stone, and a cardboard box. Written by
The end of a superb era, that is commemorated in a reflective final series
The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes signalled the end of a superb era. Overall, it is a reflective final series, with a couple of tear jerkers and beautiful moments. The final episode in particular was full of both. The series is precisely detailed and superbly acted, and while not quite as good as its three predecessors, it is still a truly wonderful series.
The camera work is very fine, and the period detail as to be expected is precise and beautifully done. The music is beautiful, not only haunting but even brings a sense of poignancy. Also superb were the scripts, reflective and sombre, there was some fine writing.
The acting from both Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke is nothing short of superb. I have said many times already that Brett was the definitive Holmes, and his ultimely death in 1995 was a true loss in the acting world. He was perfect as the complex fictional detective, no matter how many actors have played the character, Brett WAS Holmes, no doubt about it. Hardwicke's Watson is for me the truest of all the Watsons, with David Burke close behind. He gave a sense of authority and intelligence that was admirable.
In conclusion, a fitting end to a superb era of Sherlock Holmes. 10/10 Bethany Cox
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