This is probably as good an evening as any to ask if anyone I know actually watches Elementary. I gave up midway through season 1. Even at their best, the episodes read like House fanfiction with the serial numbers filed off. The mysteries were predictable, even if, like me, you didn’t watch enough contemporary TV to recognize actors (and guest starring: the guy who did it!).
Johnny Lee Miller’s character is introduced with a call girl leaving his home. He starts “Leviathan” by banging twins…for SCIENCE. That’s not Sherlock Holmes. It’s Gregory House. Or, better yet, the House you’d get by writing an episode having only read the fanfic.
And, hey, even I have my limits on how many times I like to see secret sex tapes being used as a plot device.
My single biggest with Sherlock has been The Moffat Woman. Irene Adler—an affianced and then married opera singer—made into a dominatrix? Take all the voyeuristic sleaze of that and spread it out into time-released doses, buffered by a medium of general TV mediocrity. That was how I felt by the second or third time Elementary became The Adventure of The Tapes of People Doing It.