Sherlock Holmes: The Last Adventure

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

I never read Sherlock Holmes. I never saw any of the Sherlock Holmes movies. Everything I ever knew about him came from other sources, and there were plenty, but I never heard anything about the insipid humor.

The first scene of Miners Alley well executed production of Sherlock Holmes: The Last Adventure threw me into cultural shock. It told me where the play was going, how it was going and why. I was stunned.

In 1891 London, a man with a thick English accent, holding a newspaper up to his nose reads that Sherlock Holmes is dead. There is only one reason why anyone covers his face with a newspaper and that is to hide his identity. Yes, the newspaper article was there, but Holmes was not dead. That man with the heavy British accent was the famous sleuth himself. Even as he rushed off stage, the paper held tight against his nose caused him to trip on a step. No, that did not escape me.

Certainly this had to be a parody concocted by Stephen Dietz. No, I was informed later this was not a parody this was indeed a “true representation of Sherlock Holmes”. From the first scene on I knew I was in for a couple of hours of lame brain comedy that becomes all too obvious, all too predicable, and just barely clinging to the last rung of the comedy ladder where puns comfortably live.

I have always been under the impression Sherlock, with his trusty but not always bright sidekick, Dr. Watson, was the epitome of detective work: brilliant, keenly observant, intelligent with a craving mind for details, and flawed in human relationships, tongue-tied when it came to women. Now I find he is nothing more than a wannabe comedian who couldn’t make it on the stage, and became an arrogant gumshoe magically and unrealistically solving mysteries with clues that are all too obvious anyone could do it, except for the dense Dr. Watson proven by his “I wish I could see what you see”, to which Sherlock responds, “You can see what I see. You just aren’t observant”. He should have added, “The audience caught on a few lines back”. Dietz left that out.

Directed by Richard H. Pegg, a collated cast of talented actors executes Holmes’ final adventure with “precisioned” characters in caricature.

Diet adapted his play from the only play Arthur Coan Doyle wrote along with actor, William Gillette coupling A Scandal in Bohemia and The Adventures of the Final Problem. Something may have gotten lost in translating the tone of writing common in the late 1800s to today’s idiom. British dry humor excelled in the original Sherlock Holmes stories along with a British gentlemen’s overtone. There is no sign of British dry humor in Dietz’ production. It is pure blatant “look-at-me-aren’t-I-funny? To which I have to answer, “No”. This is certainly not an actor thing, but the characters definitely fall into that category.

Conan Doyle grew weary of producing Sherlock Holmes stories. He wanted to move onto to other endeavors, and the only way he could figure out how to bring a feasible closure is to have his hero killed as in The Adventures of the Final Problem. It didn’t work. His fans demanded more, and Conan Doyle found a way to reveal his death as a hoax.

Verle Hite takes on the role of Holmes who has deliberately been hiding out. Hite gives a solid performance in comic caricature. For years the famous English sleuth has been planning conniving, aching to finish off his arch rival Professor Moriarty deliciously play by Rick Bernstein who has the uncanny ability to glow pure evil through his eyes. If I chose to remember anything at all about this play, it will be the initial spotlight on Bernstein appearing upstage with evil eyes burning holes in the gap between stage and audience.

Doctor Watson narrates the story, which at times fits snugly into the storyline as it romps through London, the Continent, Holmes study on Baker Street, a sitting room of Briony Lodge, and Reichenbach Falls. At other times the narration appears contrived as though a few pages needed to be cut from the script. Claude Diener wears the sidekick mantra in style. He did seem much more characterized when narrating than in actual scenes. It was difficult to determine if it was Watson who was uneasy concerned over the welfare of Sherlock or Diener wearing Watson’s gumshoes.

It is Sherlock who contacts Watson giving him intricate directions to avoid being followed. Moriarty is on Sherlock’s tail and vice versa, but Watson is eager to get Sherlock out of danger, agreeing to an intricate plan to accompany Sherlock. The plan might have worked but the King of Bohemia interrupts the flow, Richly played by Nathan Bock in camp, the King has a problem. Engaged to the opera diva, Irene Adler wonderfully played by Boni McIntyre, the King is frantic to retrieve an uncompromising photograph that could ruin his life as well as Irene’s. Only Sherlock contains the required skill to get the job done. Although the comedy rides high with McIntyre’s Irene, she is also provided with keen intelligence and clever schemes up her sleeve, although the craftily concocted schemes aren’t as well hidden as they could be. Something there is about the charactered persona that allows one to always be one step ahead of her. It doesn’t mater if Stephen Dietz did write the play, the writing could have been deliberately sneakier.

Once romantically involved with Sherlock, Irene’s encounters with him showers Sherlock with translucent awkward vulnerabilities. Hite shines most of the time delving into the great detective’s razor sharp observance, high-pitched intelligence, and flawed misconceptions about relationships. The tempering of the comedic all the way through with the characters dictated by the script and encouraged by Pegg continually threw me.

The twists and turns of the script run in a straight line backwards. As clues pile up against each other, the script actually gives everything away so there are no surprises anywhere along the journey. There is no mystery, no intrigue, and no magic. Sherlock’s uncovering of clues for the dense Watson rides side saddle to the obtrusive “Of course” constantly running in my brain throughout the production.

Michael R. Duran’s set worked perfectly for the many scene changes. The magic of Reichenbach Falls stood out as a particular delight, except for one small aspect. In the beginning is a large painting on the back wall of a London skyline. The painting can be seen through the Falls where Sherlock and the evil Moriarty tussle. It doesn’t seem likely the Falls would be that close to downtown London since the Falls are in Switzerland. Would that the painting could have been blacked out. Karalyn Pytel’s lighting design definitely aids and abets the rock and roll atmosphere that wants to claim mystery and intrigue. It would have if the script didn’t keep giving itself away. Anne Piano’s costume design nailed the 1891 time period.

Chris Bleau does a grand job as Sid Prince. Moriarty’s “Cockneyed” safecracker, who at least should be menacing, straddles the line of comic relief. This also goes for Moriarty’s henchmen, brother and sister James and Madge Larraby played by Christian Mast and Victoria Knight-Allen. What they do reads well. I can’t help but question how and why they do it.

Whenever something unexpected happened, I immediately smelled a hoax. When a hoax was identified, it was followed by my mind’s riddled thought process “Of course”.

Conan Doyle may not have succeeded in killing off his famous detective for his own desires, but this play certainly did it for me. The last thing I want in any play, comedy or not, is predictability. When Watson misses a clue, the last thing I want to be able to do is guess his mishap before Sherlock explains it. When a mysterious letter arrives, the last thing I want to do is guess it is a hoax.

Miners Alley’s production is most definitely up to its prize-winning standards with a grand cast and crew behind it. No question Stephen Dietz remains one of the top-producing playwrights with his own brand of quirk, but this script doesn’t do a thing except leave me with the question, “Why?” There are those it will appeal to. There are skillions who love this brand of comedic flavor. Go for it! But this isn’t a play I wish to see again any time soon. The cast? Yes. The director? Yes. Miners Alley Playhouse, by all means. The play turns Sherlock Holmes into a poor excuse for Funny. If Conan Doyle really wanted to kill off his “hero”, this play would certainly have done it for him. ThatÔs what makes the theatre go round, which is after all a very good thing.