In the past year, we have been graced with two new incarnations of Sherlock Holmes. The first was presented to us by every ones favorite London gangstarr groupie Guy Ritchee, who seems to be back on track producing witty humorous and clever "guy" flicks (*chortle chortle*) after having been lost in the wilds of Madonna va-ja-ja for several years. The second is the Sherlock Holmes television re-imagining created by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, the former now the head writer and executive producer for the rebooted
Doctor Who series and the latter also a writer on said series who play Sherlock's brother Mycroft in this new show. Both seemed to be trying to give us a Holmes for the modern era but they go about it in such different ways that it begs the question of which one shall be the iconic Holmes of our generation. Is this a thoroughly fruitless endeavor? Yes. Will whatever arguments I construct be flimsy pablum in the face of the fact that this is an entirely subjective decision? Sure. Am I just yapping into the void of the Interwebs in a futile attempt to let the world know that I exist! I matter! And goddamit, I'm worth it! ...Probably. Will these realizations stop me from embarassing myself? Unlikely.
