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I was in my teens in the early 1980's when this story takes place, and we were going through hell in my country. But by all accounts, Britain was not really a paradise in the 80's either. You can feel that in every frame, every line of dialogue.

A bunch of Polish builders arrive in London to renovate a house belonging to their boss. The foreman, Nowak, played quietly and brilliantly by Jeremy Irons, is the only one that speaks English. Their money is sufficient only for the tools, building materials and barely surviving.

This is a slow-burner film with every face hiding a deep anxiety, anger or fear, it's a wonderful experience for those who can appreciate true cinema. Irons carries the film single-handedly (often with inner monologue, since there are not many people to talk to) with few facial expressions but each one telling books of emotions.

You can literally taste the frustration of every character: the builders, working hard but not able to enjoy the western life that they finally see but cannot touch, are angry. (There's a very funny scene where one of them wants to buy Coca Cola on their first trip to the supermarket, exclaiming "Coke!" with childish glee, but their money is so limited that they can't afford even that.) The neighbors are angry, because the builders make too much noise. Most of all, Nowak is angry for a lot of reasons, although he never shows it: He misses his wife, and has growing doubts about the intentions of his boss about her. He speaks English, but doesn't always understand the subtleties of what the British people say. He has to deal with the men, the meager finances, the neighbors, the skip workers, and of course the house itself, which looks like it will come down if someone sneezes hard.

Two things change the course of their dull days dramatically: the money obviously won't last, and Nowak starts to come up with little schemes to get extra food from the supermarket using the same receipt. He's quite inept, but lady luck is often on his side. But most importantly, he hears that a military coup has taken place in his homeland. He faces a terrible dilemma: does he tell the men? He must, since they all have families at home, but then the work will never finish, and they really need the income. (There's no way they'll be allowed back, anyway) Or does he not tell them? Then the work may finish on time, but how will he keep the men from finding out themselves, when their weekly phone calls from home suddenly stop?

It's basically a hero story. What's a hero? A Marvel guy in leotards, speaking in one-liners? Or a man who does the right thing, at his own cost, knowing that he will never be appreciated? Nowak does the right thing. He hides the truth about the coup, thus keeping the men from rushing to the border and probably getting arrested. He gets the work done on time. He sees attractive women, but never chases them: they only remind him of how much he loves and misses his wife. He steals, but not from regular people: he only steals from the supermarket, and steals food and basic necessities only. And all the while he keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't "share his journey" or any other nonsensical stuff we love oh so much nowadays. He doesn't expect rewards, admiration, medals, approval, praise. He does the right thing, because he's a man, and that's what a man does. Even the final scene, where he tells the men about the coup and gets beaten by them for hiding the truth so long, is a tribute to this: He doesn't try to justify it, he knows he did the right thing but also hurt his men, so he takes their punches like a man.

As one other reviewer mentioned, it's a movie for the discerning viewer. There's nothing wrong with Marvel movies or action movies, but there's a lot wrong with thinking that's what movies are all about.

Actually, not an effort at all. I've rarely seen actors with such an overwhelming "let's get this over with" feel.

For those unfamiliar with this now-classic story: A doctor moves to the countryside with his family. Unfortunately, his daughter's cat dies soon. Their weird old neighbor helps him bury the cat, but it's not an ordinary burial ground, and soon scary events follow.

I've always loved the original movie, and the book is among my favorite King novels. If they adopt it ten times, I'll watch all ten. But this movie does an injustice to one of the most tense stories in recent times. Just a couple of jump scares, toned down atmosphere, generic music... Despite the supernatural elements, it's not horror, it's a very mild thriller. It looks (and sadly, feels) like a TV movie. Honestly, I don't see the point of making a horror movie by taking out, or toning down all the elements of horror.

The Pet Sematary novel has a great, very deep love story in its core: Everything in the story happens because Creed loves his wife and kids so much that there's literally nothing he won't do for them. And the neighbor Jud, beyond all his spooky weird hillbilly vibe, is a father figure for Creed. In this movie, he's just a spooky weird hillbilly. And Louis (Jason Clarke) acts like he met his wife just that very day, on the set.

I've always loved Jason Clarke. I know a lot of people don't like him and find his acting wooden, and if this movie was the first time I'd seen him, I would've agreed. His worst performance by far, but he's not the only one. It looks like nobody believed in the movie they were making. There's no chemistry between Creed and his wife, Creed and his neighbor, Creed and his kids.

The only improvement over the original movie is Churchill, the cat. The original cat was a great actor and actually very pretty, but this cat is more scary.

And of course, they had to make Victor Pascow a black guy. Yay, humanity is saved, racism has ended. But I didn't see any trans characters, what a bigoted movie. Oh, sorry, perhaps the cat was...?

A profanity-spewing smart home wreaks havoc on a bunch of millennials.

Yes, you read that right. That's the plot. Problem is, we're way past the 1980's and you can no longer make sarcastic movies. Therefore this kind of ridiculous plot has to be handled a) as a straight comedy / parody (check the imdb bottom 100, you'll find half a dozen of them) or b) as a straight horror film, which is doomed to fail, like Margaux. It's cringy the way they set up the characters (oh look, we're constantly smoking weed and talking about social media, just in case you missed that we're millennials). You can accurately guess which characters will die, even the order, before the action even starts.

A house that talks like Richard Pryor, making them food and even finding them weed, and nobody even questions for a second that there's something wrong, or at least unusual here? Some scenes must be seen to be believed, such as the artificial arms of the massage chair moving slowly to hug one of the kids, and him watching in horror, although he has more than plenty of time to simply get off the chair.

As a lover of bad movies, I have no problem accepting the premise that a smart home goes berserk and wants to kill people. But how did the AI build Indiana Jones-like traps into the house?

Of course, that kind of lack of logic is the least of the problems with this. It's not scary, it's not interesting, or amusing, just bad.

The only upside is, the makers of movies like The Bed That Eats, The Killer Sofa and The Refrigerator must be relieved, here's a movie that will top all the "killer household item" movies: A killer house movie.

Stay away. You've been warned.

With a director like John Huston and a great cast, being adapted from a very good book, this should have been much better. It's still not bad at all, I enjoyed it very much, but the overall result looks like a waste of the ingredients to begin with.

First of all, you have to be *very* familiar with the spy genre / movies / novels / jargon / that world in general, for the movie to make any sense. Unless you're acquainted with the works of John Le Carre etc, it's difficult to follow, or even guess why anyone is doing what they're doing. In my imdb reviews and during movie-related chats with friends, I often complain that most Hollywood movies think audiences are morons, and spell everything out for them, but this movie was an exception where the opposite is true: yes, there are clues as to who is doing what and why, but they are hidden so deep that you have to be a spy yourself to solve the whole thing.

I don't know if the reason is the direction of John Huston (who was at one of those periods in his life where he wasn't giving his best to his work) or the adaptation, script, whatever. But talk to 10 people who have seen this movie for the first time, and they'll each tell the plot differently. Who is the Paul Newman character after? Is it a diamond thief? Is it a Russian spy? Or a double spy? Is it a gang that breaks prisoners out? Is it the Russian spy's handler?

That aside (although admittedly, the fact that a movie is incomprehensible is very difficult to put aside) the performances and the atmosphere work. I've never seen Paul Newman give a bad performance (although I admit, I haven't seen The Silver Chalice) but the real holding force of the movie is the great supporting cast. James Mason and Ian Bannen, two great actors, are always a joy to see. Huston regulars Harry Andrews, Leo Glenn and Noel Purcell, plus a great performance from Nigel Patrick are also a treat. But the surprise of the movie, at least for me, was Dominique Sanda, making her Hollywood debut. I was quite surprised to read that some reviewers thought her performance was cold, aloof, and that "she appeared emotionless because she understood little English, not knowing what's going on". No, that's how her character is supposed to be! It's not a bad performance from an inexperienced actress, on the contrary: it's a masterful performance that few actresses would be able to pull off. I absolutely loved her in this movie.

There's intrigue, fights, escapes, chases, shootouts, the usual spy movie thrills, and a great cast. The theme music, and the general atmosphere is also very nice, Huston knows how to do it even when he's hamming it. If only the whole thing made more sense upon first viewing, it could have been a minor spy classic.

I was one of the very few people who thought Jimmy Fallon wasn't really that bad on SNL. He could be funny when the material was right. In his talk show, he's funny *only* when he breaks out of script and goes with the flow of the conversation, which happens rarely. When he sticks to the questions and talking points on his cards, you're in for the same dull snorefest mediocrity that passes for a talk show nowadays.

I realize that the days of Johnny Carson, or even David Letterman, are gone. This is a different era. I also realize that American talk shows are different from the others, e.g. British talk shows, where the guests are the real stars, and the hosts only guide them and try to bring out the best in them. No, in American talk shows, the hosts are the stars (remember Ellen, anyone?) and the guests are only seen as a nuisance who steal from their airtime.

I say talk show, and there is indeed a lot of talk (about nothing, mostly) but what annoys me is how superficial it all comes off. An actor comes on, for instance, someone you like, to talk about his latest movie. But after 10 minutes of chit chat, you never get any insights about the actor, or his movie, or anything at all. It's just a lot of pointless nonsense. If these guests are coming on to promote their stuff, they should be aware that they're not promoting anything.

If you watch regularly for a few episodes, you notice quite a few patterns as well, and they're not good: A good many minutes every episode is "Thank you for coming here." "Thank you for having me." Thank you for thanking me." Thanks for saying that." etc.

Then you have the incredible amount of (not-so-)hidden product placement. Jimmy makes a joke about a brand of candy, let's say. For two weeks, sometimes for a month in a row, you'll hear jokes, songs, chat, stories, sometimes even memories that contain references to that particular candy.

It could still work, of course, if they showed a bit of effort to make the talks interesting. I mean, it's a "talk show" after all, at least that's what they call it. So perhaps it's pointless to expect much else, and settle for a few minutes of so-so entertainment. But one struggles to find even that. Jimmy comes off like a wide-eyed, rural 12-year old who is having his first trip to the city, and is surprised to hear the name of any celebrity: "Oh my God! You talked to Rihanna?!" "No way! You met Brad Pitt?! He's the most incredible human being, isn't he?!"

It's really inconceivable. They spend so much money on production, a great band, sets, staff, bring on stars and famous faces etc.... yet you don't remember anything about it 5 minutes after you watch the whole thing.

Final word, not just for Jimmy, but for all talk shows: please get rid of the games.

First things first. Perhaps it was considered "edgy" when it first became popular, but using the f words every two seconds is no longer edgy. It doesn't make your movie interesting, or make your characters sound like they've been through it all. No, it makes your characters sound like ten-year olds trying to boast off with the naughty words they've just learned. And it makes the moviemakers look like they've run out of ideas. In one word: desperation.

I can't possibly imagine who they thought would be interested in this. A young man and a young woman meet in Greece, have some carefree sex. Okay so far. But that's where it ends, about 3 minutes into the movie. The rest is about them sort of becoming a couple, and fighting, and saying f this, f that, f you... then fighting some more. There are also some party scenes, where at least four people speak at the same time, saying things that don't matter to anyone, although nobody seems to want to shut up for a second. Then they fight some more, shout some more, and have some more sex. For 112 minutes.

When it comes to movies, I try to be as open-minded as I can. There are many movies with non-existent plots that can still hold the attention of the audience. Or many movies with one-dimensional characters, that are still watchable due to some other quality. But there has to be at least one redeeming trait about the movie. I found none in Monday.

A story of non-violent men in a terribly violent life.

Suffering from an unfortunate title and a stupid poster, this movie is easy to brush off, since scores of bland, copycat movies have already been made about the gritty backstreets of London. However, give this one a try. You won't be disappointed. In fact, it's a gem in its niche genre.

Paul is a bouncer. He has a face that looks like he's been run over by a train. His job is beating people up. He's the kind of man that you don't want to cross paths with.

However, just like the movie's poster and title, this first image is misleading. Paul is also surprisingly aware. He's aware of the people around him, he's aware of how they feel, what they think. He's good at his job not because he hits harder than the other guys, but because he's alert of the customers and can sense trouble before it starts. The only thing he couldn't predict (or predicted, but couldn't stop) is his ex, who left him for a shady (and of course, richer) club owner.

Tom, a successful ex-boxer but down on his luck, is hired by Paul. Paul has followed his career, knows him better than he knows himself, both respects and pities him for refusing a payment to take a dive in the past, and also recognizes his weakness, which is his own weakness: although these are tough guys by definition, dealing in delivering and taking brutal beatings on a daily basis, they also have strong emotional, human sides, which they subconsciously hide. In their gritty world, humanity is a weakness and there's no place for it. Any snotty drunk kid can pull a gun and shoot them, any loser who they escort out could be waiting around the corner with a knife the next evening. They need to be alert at all times, and above all, they always need to have cool heads.

The film doesn't really have a deep story, or what you could call a plot, but it has interesting characters in a setting where you don't expect to find anyone interesting. It won't be among anyone's top 10, or even top 100, but it's definitely worth seeing.

Watch for British legend Tom Bell, in a small role as a pub owner.

As a guest on Jimmy Fallon, he was talking about his girlfriends, and said he was "a one-woman MAN." Which caused me to laugh a lot harder than the entirety of his "movie."

On the other hand, if you're watching a movie "written" by this person, I guess you know what to expect. A big nothing. A delusional 21st century celebrity's "Hey, I think this is funny, so I will make more millions with it." The scary thing isn't that he makes millions, of course. Or even that he finds this funny. The real scary thing is that some people actually say they were entertained by it.

Intertwining stories about the manager of a small, struggling theater who has to resort to his real magic book to make ends meet, and a middle-aged man-child having to deal with his girlfriend's unwanted pregnancy.

There's some good stuff here, which would make some sort of minor hit under different conditions. However, the movie falls into the same traps as many other wannabe-indie comedies do:

A middle-aged man who still acts like a child is N-O-T funny. Not since Seinfeld. If anything, the character irritates the hell out of the audience. Plus, assaulting the audience's ears with three people talking at once, with each one trying to outdo the others as if they were in a fast-talking contest, does not help either. Such long dialogue gives the impression that the writer has a deep, Shakespearean story to tell with many facades, although his material is actually very thin, very light. Not that this is a bad thing, of course, great movies can be made from thin material. But as long as they're treated properly, not as if they're a Greek tragedy.

And there are too many references to other movies, which looks like a sad attempt to look Tarantino-esque: Friday The 13th, The Invisible Man, The Elephant Man, Slumdog Millionaire, Misery, and a few more. But I don't expect anyone to think "Well, this guy sure knows his movie history! Welcome, Tarantino 2.0!" They look more like random movie names sprinkled throughout the script for no reason at all.

The director does manage to juggle the two main stories somewhat seamlessly, which is something that not every moviemaker can do. And some characters and some scenes work, but overall, it comes off as mediocre. It's a chore to follow everything that's being said, and that's not a good sign for a comedy. Five stars out of ten is actually very generous.

Horror fans can be categorized in two groups. The first group is the usual "That was great, man! Like, did you see how his head explodes, man! Like, cool, man!" type of teenagers, who try to outdo each other by proudly boasting about having seen the goriest scariest whatever movie. You can safely ignore them.

The second group takes horror movies as serious entertainment, and don't praise (or bash) a movie about how gory, scary or disturbing it was. I consider myself one of them.

Martyrs is a perfect example of the kind of movie praised by both groups: for the wrong reasons by the first group, of course. It's a really disturbing movie, with scary imagery, but it's also a serious movie with nice structuring, not resorting to silly jump scares, and keeps its story and characters above the special effects.

The movie opens with a little girl running for her life from her captors. We learn that she was tortured for years, and the people who did it are never caught. Flash forward to 15 years later, she breaks into a house and murders who appear to be a very domestic family of four.

The obvious question for the first half of the movie is, were these really the people who tortured her for years? Or did she make a terrible mistake?

Even if you're watching a dubbed version, anyone with half an eye can easily notice that this isn't a Hollywood movie: it doesn't hammer you with explanation after explanation with endless dialogue and monologue, there's lots of blood and gore but it's in the background: you don't get close-ups or defining shots of "look how we did it!" special effects.

The real horror element in a Hollywood movie would be the shootings, the tortures, gore and guts. In this film, they pale behind the truly horrific thing: how casual the torturers are, how they reason and justify what they do, and go on with their daily lives.

It's a well-made, nicely produced film. I'd say not for the squeamish, but like I said, the psychological horror really is the driving force here. As a horror lover and a movie lover in general I recommend it, as long as you know what you're in for.

I usually refrain from watching stuff that's overhyped by friends. When Lost started in 2004, everyone was so guano crazy about it that I though it would be absolutely terrible, since these hypes often die as fast as they start. So I avoided it, and after hearing about how awful the last season was, didn't even watch the rerun. Until the 2021 coronavirus break, when I decided to give it a chance after 15 years.

There's no doubt that this had the potential to be one of the greatest, if not *the* greatest, TV show ever. It starts off fast, with one fantastic idea after another, and it redefined the word "cliffhanger" for me. The editing and pacing was so exciting that I finished the first season in an unbelievably short time.

The second season was also nice, but towards the end, I started to sense something. With the third season, it became clear: the show had lost (no pun intended) that feeling of fantasy / adventure / thriller, and turned into something else. I hate to admit it, but that something else was... soap opera.

The feeling of immediate danger, being stranded on a mysterious island where strange happenings and deaths were a daily reality, was completely gone: now there was such a casualty, such an indifference among the characters that I didn't really care what happened next. There was no longer a "survivor" aura, it had already become a tourist aura. It was like watching Fantasy Island with the late great Ricardo Montalban.

The worst thing about it, at least for me, was that the show seemed to be written exclusively for a female audience. Now, I know this comment is considered a war crime these days, but it's the truth. How else do you explain the constant giggling, the never ending innuendos, the sickening coyness, the forced sexiness? "Oops, look at me, I had to rip my shirt to dress the cut in your muscular arm, and now I'm left around with just my bra, while you give out sexy unnnhs and aaagghhs from your wound." Please. Bachelor Island would be a better title than Lost.

Fantasy does not mean nonsense. Any book or movie or TV show with a strong element of fantasy needs to have one foot firmly rooted in reality. Otherwise it's just a bunch of ideas, not a consistent show to be enjoyed. The first one and a half seasons of Lost provided that. They were enjoyable, gripping and exciting, because there was a sense of reality and urgency in their situation. Later it became something else. They're on an island where they keep burying new bodies every two days, there's a smoke that changes shape and kills people, strange and mysterious scientists with guns, and even a polar bear... yet these people are arguing about who kissed who, and which guy fancies which woman. Pathetic.

I gave up after season three, perhaps someday I'll finish it. But honestly, I don't think so.

A grandson talks to and about his grandmother who has affected his life deeply, from his early childhood to his adult life. There are scenes of dialogue, monologue, narration, and the film goes back and forth in time to tell their intersecting stories, semi-documentary style.

The grandmother is obviously the more interesting character here (and has a much more fascinating story), having lived a longer, fuller and much more colorful life. The grandson is a moviemaker now, using his grandma both as a subject and as a means to talk about his coming out as gay, both to his family and also to himself.

If only the director / moviemaker hadn't pushed the homosexuality point so forcefully, reminding the audience every two minutes that he's gay, this would have been a much better film. As it is, it's still an interesting watch, the life of a woman who has lived so fully and continues to live just as fully even in her golden years is a fascinating experience. The grandson's story pales a bit in comparison, but it isn't that boring: his relationship with his father was also interesting. However, when we inevitably and subconsciously compare the two subjects of this movie, the obvious conclusion is that: one has lived through hard times, had relationships, overcome many obstacles at work and in her personal life, made something of herself despite terrible odds, all the time leading a very full and interesting life, whereas the other one... well, is gay. It's kind of a sad and worrying sign of our times where our character, our personality, who we are and what we've done in our life, even our achievements are sadly determined solely by our sexuality, and who we sleep with overpowers everything else about us.

As a viewer you can't help but think "We get it, you're gay, please move on to something else..." at least a few times. Still, the movie works and I'd recommend it as a fresh, interesting watch.

The return of Sherlock Holmes was a long-awaited literary phenomenon in its day, and the TV adaptation doesn't disappoint.

Three years after the deadly confrontation with Professor Moriarty which took both their lives, Holmes is now living in his dear friend's memories only, who still reminisces of their days together. Watson is now a police consultant, having moved from Apartment 221B. When a curious case leads him and Inspector Lestrade to a dead end, suddenly a long-lost name from the past appears to give a helping hand.

A noteworthy episode simply for having two Watsons (David Burke appears shortly in the flashback scenes) but there's a lot more to it. Burke and Hardwicke were quite different in their interpretations of Dr. Watson, but they were equally wonderful. They each had their superior points, and I really can't choose one over the other. Burke's Watson was more of a man of action, quicker in his ways, you could still see the former soldier in him. Hardwicke's Watson is older, more experienced in Holmes' methods and has a melancholy about him, he acts more like a lifelong friend than a business partner. His affection for Holmes is felt strongly.

The episode has a warm air of reminiscence and nostalgia, with the usual Holmes mannerisms and deductions. Also must be noted an appearance by Patrick Allen as Colonel Sebastian Moran. With that face and presence, it's beyond me how he didn't become a household name. According to the imdb he has 158 acting roles under his belt, but I still feel he should have been more famous.

Mrs. Hudson's final toast to Holmes is a great ending to a great episode.

The Mona Lisa is stolen, a crime orchestrated by Professor Moriarty to sell dozens of imitations for millions. When Holmes recovers the original, it urges the Professor to take the ultimate step to get rid of his rival.

Eric Porter is truly intimidating as Moriarty, and this final episode of the series is filled with great moments of delight. It's the last episode with David Burke as Dr. Watson, before he's replaced by Edward Hardwicke in the following series. This episode has some of the best scenery and score of the series. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes really ends on a high note.

A man named Jabez Wilson consults Holmes with a curious case: Although he already owns an antique shop, for the last few weeks he had been employed by a certain Red Headed League to copy out the Encyclopedia Britannica. He accepted because the pay was very good and the job not that hard, but the most curious point was that he was chosen for the job because of the color of his hair. When the Red Headed League is suddenly dissolved, he contacts Holmes to find out what it was all about.

This episode has more humor than usual, but the standout moment is, of course, the introduction of Eric Porter in the role of Professor Moriarty. Roger Hammond provides the comic relief as the confused Jabez Wilson, and Tim McInnerny is very good as the noble criminal John Clay. It's a memorable episode for the imaginative crime, a must-watch for any fan of the series.

A young doctor consults Holmes about a curious case: a wealthy man has approached the doctor with an unusual offer a few years ago, offering to set him up in a luxurious house for his practice, on condition that he hands over three quarters of his earnings, and treats the man as a resident patient. It's been a fine arrangement for a couple of years, until the man suddenly started to show great fear and anxiety, and finally sent the doctor to call Sherlock Holmes.

Yet another very enjoyable addition to the series with fine performances throughout, but the key element here is the great story. The nicely executed dream sequence is a treat.

A young solicitor is visited by a retired builder, who apparently wants to leave his whole wealth and state to him in his will. The builder is found dead that very night, and all suspicion naturally falls on the young fellow. But before he's caught by the police, he's able to reach Sherlock and ask for his help.

This is one of my two favorite episodes from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which curiously have the lowest ratings of the series on imdb (the other being The Greek Interpreter). Just like The Greek Interpreter introduced Charles Gray as Mycroft Holmes, this one introduces Colin Jeavons as the unimaginative, slightly annoying but mostly lovable Inspector Lestrade. Jeavons brings a strange quality to Lestrade that I'm not sure was entirely present in the written works: Although he often ends up looking ridiculous after his incompetence is exposed next to Sherlock's brilliance, he's not that much incompetent. For me, the the TV series Lestrade is much better than the written story Lestrade, and it's a rare achievement to improve over the source material.

It's a wonderful story, with revelation after revelation, including possibly the best deductions Holmes makes. Definitely a must watch.

A Greek interpreter is taken to a house where two sinister types are trying to force a Greek man into signing a document. After he's released, he tells his story to his neighbor, Mycroft Holmes, who of course gets his brother Sherlock to look into the case.

This is one of my two favorite episodes from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which curiously have the lowest ratings of the series on imdb (the other being The Norwood Builder). It's noteworthy simply for the introduction of the Diogenes Club and the amazing Charles Gray as Mycroft Holmes, a role that's probably as hard to cast as Sherlock himself. Gray steals every scene, but this would've been a memorable episode even without him. Yes, this is not much of a whodunit, since the villains are apparent from the very first scene, but Sherlock Holmes stories aren't only about finding out who did what: they're about procedure, deduction, logic, great dialogue. In that sense, this is a wonderful, very memorable episode.

A young lady consults Holmes for advice: She's been offered an unusually high paying job, but the house is far in the country, and her employer has some odd requests about her hair and dresses. She doesn't want to cut her beautiful hair, of course, and is obviously wary about the odd requests, but the pay is too high to refuse. Holmes tells her that since she's already made up her mind, there's not much for him to do. However, things take a sinister turn quickly.

The premise is very similar to The Solitary Cyclist story, and the episode is similarly mediocre. Joss Ackland and Natasha Richardson are great, though, it's worth watching just for the sake of them. Of course, saying " Joss Ackland is great" is redundant, has there ever been a performance of his that's not great?

An extremely rare jewel is stolen from the estate of a countess, and the police arrest the most obvious suspect: an ex-con who was doing some manual work in the estate just before the theft. However, the missing stone turns out at a most unexpected place: in the belly of a goose getting ready to be a Christmas meal. Holmes and Watson set out to find the mystery behind it.

If you can manage to ignore the ridiculously distracting eyebrows of the Ken Campbell character, this is quite a nice episode. The scene where Sherlock makes a whole series of deductions from looking a hat is one of the best. His final decision about the thief is one of the many where he takes the law into his own hands, and justifies it to Watson. A story that takes place during a Christmas, and actually has the spirit of Christmas, without hitting the audience over the head with it. Very enjoyable throughout.

The late Jeremy Kemp, whom I first saw as a kid in the hilarious Top Secret! but who was later etched in my memory with his performance in The Blockhouse (1973) has always been one of those actors that I keep an eye out for: if I notice him in a movie, I stop whatever I'm doing, sit down and watch it.

In this episode, he makes his presence felt as the fearsome uncle of two sisters, one of whom has died under suspicious circumstances, and the other is in fear of her life. After she visits Sherlock to ask for help, he furiously rushes into that famous apartment in 221B, and makes quite an impressive threat. Which drives Holmes to pursue the case even more keenly, of course.

Not the best episode, but quite creepy in some scenes, and a nice addition to the overall series.

A colonel is found dead in his home under strange circumstances, and his wife is the suspect. The colonel's second-in-command is afraid of a scandal, but Holmes and Watson delve deeper into the case and find out the truth.

If you're watching the series in order, this is the best episode so far: The story is simply wonderful (and quite sad), the acting perfect, the drama top notch. This is yet another example (you'll find many such examples throughout the Granada canon) where secondary characters make the show: Norman Jones (Henry Wood) Denys Hawthorne (James Barclay) and especially Lisa Daniely (Nancy Barclay) and in her short part, Fiona Shaw (Miss Morrison) are simply perfect. Highly recommended.

For me this is not one of the top episodes, although I cannot put my finger on why it doesn't work as well as it should: The story is not bad (Sherlock stories never are) the acting is great as always (well, mostly) but something is missing: Although I would really hate to admit it, the fact is that a man disguised with a fake beard is hardly exciting or thrilling for the modern audience.

A very young lady contacts Holmes and asks for his advice: She's been employed as a music teacher for a widower's daughter, but she has noticed that a man has been following her on the road to her employer's home.

The episode somehow doesn't work, but the dialogue is great. Also watch out for the inn scene, where Sherlock is hit with what is probably the most awkward punch in the history of television. Nevertheless, it's not totally unworthy of the series, just not one of the best additions.

An old school chum writes to Dr. Watson and asks for Sherlock Holmes' help: an immensely important naval treaty document, which was entrusted to him for copying, has been stolen. The poor guy, devastated and hardly able to carry a conversation for two minutes before getting into another nervous fit, is hopeless.

This is the first time where the plot involves a mystery in the true sense of the word, because while Holmes is putting the pieces together in his mind, the audience isn't given much of a clue.

I admit this was my least favorite episode when I first binge-watched this series, since I found the constant whining and nervousness of Percy Phelps (the character who lost the treaty) too tiresome and annoying. But upon a couple of repeated viewings over the years, I now find it better than most episodes. Recommended.

A wealthy man named Hilton Cubitt (Tenniel Evans, whom I remember from Yes, Minister) contacts Holmes and Watson. His American wife, who has kept her past a secret from him, has shown signs of great stress and fear upon finding drawings of some dancing men in their estate. Holmes gets on the case and solves the mystery, of course (which isn't too much of a mystery for today's viewers) but will he be able to prevent a tragedy?

Another nice episode where, even if you can guess what's coming a mile away, you still want to watch for the acting, the dialogue and the sets alone. The scenes where Sherlock nonchalantly shows the finer points of detection to the police inspector are a joy.