Indeed. When I first saw this scene, yes, it was kind of funny, but all in all I felt really sorry for him. They break into his house, change his movies, terrorise him in his own home… All of this because they want Mycroft to say it, and instead of, say, snooping in his documents (which is something much more easier to make, and doesn’t instantly give away anything), they decide to go to his own house, interrupt the only leisure moment we see him have in the show, and scare him until he admits it, even reaching to the point of disarming him, leaving him with no bullets, for him to lose almost all of his dignity, and then proceed to laugh about it. And then, instead of listening to his “it’s dangerous, so don’t do anything stupid” advice, they decide to bully him until he admits to ask help from them. And I’ll repeat it. Ask. It’s not like “hey, you’re my big bro, and this is a problem that affects us all, so let’s figure it out”. It’s more of a “hey, you secret keeper, ask us help, and then we’ll help you out.”
So yes, it might seem like a funny scene. But it really isn’t, for me at least.
But what I find interesting is that Sherlock’s charade is a smaller version of Eurus’ head games later in the episode. They both indulge in the idea of terrifying people – family members even – until they reveal the truth to you. (Which makes me think there were some understandable reasons for Mycroft keeping Eurus and Sherlock separated.)
I chose to believe that Sherlock recognised those similarities as he got to experience it from the other side, and it made him regret how he treated Mycroft. (It makes sense given the uncharacteristic concern shown by asking Greg to look after Mycroft and defending Mycroft to their parents.)
“But what I find interesting is that Sherlock’s charade is a smaller version of Eurus’ head games later in the episode.”
I.. I.. I never thought of this way and now I can’t think of it in any other way holy fuck…
This gets really interesting if you accept the mind-bungalow concept that TFP is playing out in John’s subconscious as he lays dying on his therapist’s oddly-striking rug. Because this is the Sherlock John thought he saw after the old woman’s murder in TGG: someone driven by the Game until he’s just plain cruel. And there’s John right behind him, all smug (and uncaring) smiles.
This is John’s nightmare, both of Sherlock and himself.
The thing I really like about TFP, especially working within an EMP theory of some sort, is that Sherlock becomes so human. He is shaken. He struggles, is sometimes wrong. He refuses to make a calculating decision by shooting Mycroft or John. And he’s so empathetic toward Eurus (and if anyone has a right to simply hate her, maybe even more than Mycroft, I think it’s Sherlock.
Here’s the beautiful bit: if this is all in John’s mind, this isn’t about the audience learning Sherlock isn’t some kind of ubermensch who transcends the mere mortals around him.We already know that. It’s about John learning that. It’s in many ways the Garridebs revelation, slightly inverted. And a lot of the time I’m too scared and jaded to really believe in overarching purpose and details that mean that, but when I’m brave enough to go there, this is the bit I love.
For those who allege that Sherlock doesn’t care about his clients, look at that third gif. There’s real sadness and compassion there. During this scene, Henry is actively suicidal and keeps putting a gun in his mouth, but it’s Sherlock – not John, the soldier and doctor – who talks Henry down.
“Someone needed to keep you quiet; needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you’d both clung on to, because you had started to remember…You couldn’t cope. You were just a child, so you rationalized it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no one would believe a word that you said.”
Does Sherlock only care about the mysteries? At this point in the episode, he already had the solution. He knew the workings behind H.O.U.N.D. and the poisonous gas. He could have left. But he wanted to make Henry understand, to alleviate some of the grief he’d carried since his father’s death. Sherlock even forces Henry to look at the dead dog to drive the point home. “You couldn’t cope. You were just a child.“
It’s a remarkable display of empathy on Sherlock’s part.
I had to go back and find and reblog this meta from four years ago because it’s taken on new poignancy in light of The Final Problem. Now we know that Sherlock, too, had conjured a hound of his own.
“Now we know that Sherlock, too, had conjured a hound of his own.”