The Game is Afoot: Setting Up the World of ‘Sherlock’
Sherlock Holmes, the brainchild of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, has enjoyed countless adaptations, revivals, and reinterpretations over the years. Yet, few have succeeded in capturing the zeitgeist as effectively as BBC’s ‘Sherlock’ (2010-2017). This modern-day retelling takes a daring leap, rooting the detective in a world replete with smartphones, blogs, and surveillance cameras, a world far removed from the foggy streets of Victorian London.
The success of this adaptation doesn’t merely hinge on performances or high-budget set pieces but largely on the bedrock of its writing. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, the architects behind this reimagining, are masters at blending the new with the old. These are the same minds that have given us ‘Doctor Who’ episodes that reverberate in the annals of sci-fi TV history. Their understanding of narrative, especially when it comes to modernizing classics, is second to none.
Now, let’s dig into the meat of the matter—the Pilot episode “A Study in Pink.” It’s not just a mere introduction; it’s a statement of intent. From the moment Dr. John Watson, struggling with PTSD and life as a civilian, meets the mysterious Sherlock Holmes, we understand that this isn’t your grandparents’ Sherlock Holmes. Here, Sherlock is a “high-functioning sociopath” with a penchant for nicotine patches instead of a pipe. He uses text messages as clues and employs the internet as his modern-day magnifying glass. Watson, conversely, isn’t just a sidekick but a multifaceted character, an army doctor and a blogger, who serves as our lens into this chaotic, brilliant world.
One of the vital writing tips for setting up a world as complex as this is knowing how to use subtext. When Sherlock examines the body at the crime scene and Watson asks, “Who are you?”, Sherlock responds with “Sherlock Holmes” in a tone that conveys he expects Watson, and by extension the world, to recognize the name. It’s a moment loaded with hubris and mystique, encapsulating the character’s essence in a mere exchange.
Just as crucial is the setting. The bustling, modern city of London is almost a character itself. From cabs to smartphones to incessant city noise, the milieu is crafted with the meticulous detail that breathes life into Doyle’s 19th-century world. This sort of environmental storytelling is something many writers miss. When writing a screenplay or even working on creative writing projects, grounding your story in a well-defined setting can heighten its believability and relatability.
Of course, we can’t talk about setting up the world of ‘Sherlock’ without discussing the role of technology. The way the series integrates modern tech like GPS, text messaging, and blogging into its narrative is seamless. Rather than distracting, it amplifies the sleuth’s abilities and our contemporary anxieties about privacy and digital footprints.
Then there’s the dialogue. Ah, the dialogue! You can almost hear the rhythm, the quick exchanges that serve as verbal sparring between Holmes and Watson. The cadence has an almost musical quality, which brings us to another crucial point: dialogue can do more than just convey information. It can set the mood, provide rhythm, and offer subtext, all while moving the plot forward. Crafting such dialogue is no small feat, but when executed well, it becomes a masterclass in storytelling.
Moreover, the series doesn’t shy away from nods to the original canon. From Watson’s limp and military service to Mrs. Hudson’s role as the landlady, there’s a balance of fan service and fresh interpretation. It’s a lesson in how to approach adaptations while respecting the source material yet making it relatable for a new audience.
The Mind Palace: Unpacking the Narrative Structure in ‘Sherlock’
Any discussion about the brilliance of ‘Sherlock’ inevitably leads to its innovative narrative structure. Rather than confining itself to a procedural template where each episode solves a case independent of the others, ‘Sherlock’ opted for a more serialized format. This approach elevates the series from just another detective show to a riveting drama where stakes evolve, relationships grow, and cliffhangers actually matter.
So, what does ‘Sherlock’ do that sets its narrative structure apart? First off, let’s talk about the ‘Mind Palace,’ a concept borrowed from ancient memory techniques but adapted here to serve as Sherlock’s mental database. When Sherlock retreats into his Mind Palace to solve particularly challenging problems, viewers are given an almost surreal tour of his subconscious mind. This creative use of interior monologue and visualization showcases how a screenplay can benefit from diving deep into a character’s psychology. It’s a sort of ‘Show, Don’t Tell’ on steroids.
‘Show, Don’t Tell’ is among those screenwriting tips that seem obvious but are incredibly tricky to master. In ‘Sherlock,’ it’s not just about crime-solving; it’s also how relationships are portrayed. Take, for instance, the evolving friendship between Sherlock and Watson. The depth of their relationship isn’t conveyed through long-winded dialogues but through small moments: a shared glance during a tricky operation or a subtle expression of concern. These nuances add layers to their characters, making them feel more authentic. It’s these nuances that make the difference when writing a screenplay that resonates.
Another hallmark of ‘Sherlock’s narrative structure is its pacing. Episodes of ‘Sherlock’ are about 90 minutes long—practically a feature film. Despite this, there’s never a dull moment. The series masterfully controls its pacing through a blend of ‘A’ and ‘B’ stories that run concurrently. While the ‘A’ story focuses on the primary case, the ‘B’ story often delves into character development, adding layers to the ensemble cast. For instance, in “The Great Game,” while Sherlock is busy solving Moriarty’s puzzles, Watson struggles with balancing his ‘normal’ life with the life of danger and excitement that comes with being Sherlock’s friend.
Remember, pacing is crucial in screenplay structure, whether you’re writing a two-hour movie or a ten-episode series. And it’s not just about the speed but the rhythm. Think of it as composing a piece of music. Some scenes need to race with the tempo of a thriller, while others should breathe, taking their time to delve into emotional or intellectual depths.
The nonlinear storytelling is another ace up ‘Sherlock’s sleeve. The series often employs flashbacks, hallucinations, and even unreliable narration to keep the viewers on their toes. The episode “The Reichenbach Fall” is a prime example, where the storytelling is so intricate that viewers are compelled to question what’s real and what’s a fabrication. This invites active participation from the audience, making them invest emotionally in the narrative. A well-placed flashback or a cleverly executed narrative trick can work wonders, but remember, these are tools, not crutches. Use them sparingly and only if they serve the story.
Speaking of serving the story, let’s discuss how ‘Sherlock’ incorporates red herrings and plot twists. Remember that time when everyone thought Moriarty was just an actor hired by Sherlock? The writers led us down a path filled with convincing clues only to pull the rug out from under us. This wasn’t a cheap trick; it was a well-orchestrated narrative decision that aligned with the characters and the overarching plot. In other words, it was earned. When inserting plot twists, ensure they feel organic to the story; otherwise, they risk feeling like cheap gimmicks.
Now, imagine you’re tasked with writing prompts to unlock your creativity. You decide to play with the narrative structure. Perhaps you use non-linear timelines or introduce an unreliable narrator. Feel free to get experimental, but always ensure that these elements serve a purpose. The more in harmony they are with your story, the more powerful your narrative will be. It’s all about balance, after all.
Another ingenious narrative tool ‘Sherlock’ employs is its use of text messages and other on-screen graphics to reveal inner thoughts or unseen actions. Instead of cutting to a phone screen or using voice-over narration, text messages pop up directly on the screen as though we’re reading the character’s mind. This kind of visual storytelling not only enhances the pacing but also adds an innovative flair to the series. It’s something you can consider when thinking about how to visualize thoughts or actions in your own writing.
The Power of Dialogue and the Unspoken: Decoding the Linguistic Brilliance of ‘Sherlock’
When it comes to screenplay brilliance, ‘Sherlock’ truly is the epitome of linguistic virtuosity. The dialogue is not merely an exchange of information but a complex tapestry that reveals character, advances plot, and sets tone—all while sparkling with wit and intelligence. It might be tempting to think of dialogue as just words, but in screenwriting, particularly in a series as nuanced as ‘Sherlock,’ it’s so much more.
First, let’s delve into the dialogue’s subtext, the meaning that lies beneath the spoken words. There’s an episode where Sherlock simply tells Watson, “You’re my best friend.” That line could be banal in a different context, but given their tumultuous relationship and Sherlock’s usual emotional reticence, it’s as good as a soliloquy. Effective use of subtext can elevate a simple line into something profound, revealing deeper emotional or thematic layers. Subtext is one of the more complex screenwriting tips that writers should aspire to master, and ‘Sherlock’ serves as a brilliant textbook example.
And speaking of textbooks, who could overlook the famous “Science of Deduction”? Sherlock’s ability to glean intimate details about a person or situation based on seemingly inconsequential observations is nothing short of miraculous. But how do the writers make it believable? By crafting dialogue that’s simultaneously factual, logical, and brisk. Each deduction is a mini-story, with a beginning, middle, and end, and an emotional payoff. This principle holds valuable lessons for anyone dabbling in writing a screenplay, especially those who want to blend the technical and the emotional seamlessly.
Sherlock’s deductions often come in the form of monologues, a device that, if not handled correctly, can feel like exposition dumps. But here, they’re anything but. Think back to the first episode, “A Study in Pink”, where Sherlock’s rapid-fire deductions about Watson’s military service, his sibling’s alcoholism, and his recent move are all spouted within seconds. The show’s writers manage to make this feel natural by ensuring it flows from Sherlock’s character—it’s not just what he says, but how he says it that makes these monologues compelling.
Then there’s the banter between Sherlock and his arch-nemesis Moriarty, a verbal chess game that’s as intense as any action scene. Moriarty, being Sherlock’s intellectual equal, is one of the few who can match him in linguistic acrobatics. Their exchanges often feature wordplay, metaphors, and literary references, which not only entertain but serve the narrative by highlighting their complicated relationship. For any aspiring screenwriters, the takeaway here is that dialogue can serve multiple purposes—exposition, characterization, and even spectacle.
Dialogue is also used skillfully to reveal what’s not being said. In “The Reichenbach Fall,” when Watson implores Sherlock to confirm that he’s not a fraud, Sherlock’s silence speaks volumes. His inability to reassure his friend not only heightens the drama but serves as a poignant revelation of his vulnerability. This technique can be particularly useful in writing prompts that challenge you to reveal character without overt exposition.
Let’s also consider how the dialogue in ‘Sherlock’ plays with audience expectation. The show often sets up clichés only to subvert them, like when you expect a villain to reveal their entire plan, but get something completely different. This manipulation of tropes keeps the dialogue fresh and the audience engaged, another key point to consider in screenplay structure.
Additionally, ‘Sherlock’ uses specialized language to add a layer of authenticity. Whether it’s the legalese used in courtroom scenes or the medical jargon uttered in the morgue, this specialized language provides a sense of realism without alienating the viewer. While this approach requires a careful balance—too much jargon can be alienating—it’s yet another tool in the screenwriter’s toolkit.
And finally, let’s talk about humor. ‘Sherlock’ isn’t a comedy, but its wit is one of its defining features. Whether it’s Sherlock’s dry sarcasm or Watson’s more grounded humor, the show understands the value of lightening the mood without breaking character or diminishing the stakes. Humor can be a potent tool in your writing arsenal, capable of adding levity, humanity, and a different form of tension to your screenplay.
So, why does all of this matter? Because dialogue isn’t just filler; it’s an active component of storytelling. In ‘Sherlock,’ every line of dialogue is a brushstroke in a larger portrait, contributing to character development, plot advancement, and thematic depth. As you take your own journey into the world of screenwriting, keep these insights in mind. Remember, dialogue is not about saying, it’s about doing. And when done right, it can turn a good script into a masterpiece.
✍️ Whether you’re mastering the art of dialogue, structure, or character development, the power of AI can be a game-changer in your writing journey. My Free Ebook, ‘AI for Authors’ delves into how AI-powered prompts can provide a unique edge to your storytelling process. If you’re intrigued by the prospect of supercharging your fiction skills, download your free copy today and explore new horizons in creative writing.
A.I. in Screen Trade 