SHERLOCK HOLMES: THE DEVIL’S DAUGHTER
It’s just like watching the detective...
Sir Arthur Conan
Doyle’s licence to print money in super-sleuth Sherlock Holmes
returns, getting all adventurous, detectivey and even QTEish in
another outing filled with puzzles, conundrums, riddles, mysteries,
enigmas, posers, brain-teasers and any such similar word that we
missed when hastily consulting our thesaurus.
non-mouse detective has five cases to get to here – four individual
ones, and a final chapter based around what he got up to in that
While many may expect old Sherlock to be,
well, old, this set of challenges involves a younger incarnation.
He’s still shacked up with Dr Watson though, and he’s still a
smartarse, plus he has the added surprise of being daddy to one
young Katelyn. Her story becomes intrinsically, erm, intrinsic to
the narrative here, as does the arrival of a new 221B neighbour in
clairvoyant Alice De’Bouvier (no relation to Marge, Patty, Selma et
The Devil’s Daughter doesn’t deviate greatly
from that which was established in Crimes & Punishments,
which is good and bad. That manifestation overreached by inserting
too many incongruous action scenes within its otherwise natty
adventuring framework, and this does the same. Some are fine – if
not titter-worthy, like cleaning a chimney as you climb within it -
but full-on action sequences such as a woods-based sortie are
alarmingly frustrating at best.
As one would expect when
stepping into Holmes’ size 11s there’s much deduction to be done,
handled intriguingly by the return of a natty embryo-filled screen
where you essentially literally connect the dots. As always, going
the j’accuse route too early is bad, m’kay, so thorough
sleuthinosity is prudent.
This isn’t for the impatient, but
those prepared to put in hard yards will be rewarded with around 12
hours of brain-engaging entertainment that Conan Doyle would love
(to have received royalties for, rather than his coattail-tugging