XistentialAngst's Blog, page 35
December 22, 2016
yorkiepug:
queerjawn:
skulls-and-tea:
skulls-and-tea:
now THAT’s what i call a spoiler
okay so...
now THAT’s what i call a spoiler
okay so how spoilery or non-spoilery do y'all want this blog because we’re entering the Thunderdome now
HERE FOR THIS. Spoil me, please.
OMG I want to be spoiled so hard.
I’m up for catching whatever you care to throw.
shag-me-senseless-watson:
one-lastmiracle:
a-cumberbatch-of-cook...
“If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”
omg yes
lol yes, so then i can shave.
Because I’m a morbid asshole this is what I began thinking of:
You look at it nearly every day. It’s still up there, years away in fact, and that’s fine. But sometimes you watch it. You watch the number tick away and you wonder and you dream and you try not to expect too much because you know no matter what it’ll be perfect. One a year when it becomes the exact future anniversary you watch it and count down to 0 and get giddy. Only ten more years. Only seven more years. Only four more years.
Then one day you wake up. You stretch. You smile. You check. Just because. And something is wrong. All the numbers say 0. Something horrible has happened.
They’re dead.
but why
why would you post something like that
Oh, god, I’m going to end up writing a -
fuck. Sorry.
—
From the day Sherlock could count, the clock on his wrist had confused him.
“But what does it do?” he asked his mother disdainfully. “What is it’s purpose?”
His mother just smiled down at him and rubbed over the spot on her own wrist. Sherlock could see that it was down to all zeros. Time had run out, but he didn’t know what it was timing. She crouched down next to him and took his wrist in her hand, glancing down at it for a moment.
“One day,” she said, “you’re going to meet someone. The most important person you’ve ever met. Then, the clock will say zero.”
“It’s counting down to the day I meet someone?” Sherlock questioned. His tone was near disgusted. “That’s ridiculous. What’s the point of that? And don’t say I’m too young to understand. That doesn’t work.”
She shook her head and repeated, “the most important person you’ve ever met, Sherlock.”
“I don’t like people,” Sherlock said adamantly. “They’re annoying.”
She stood back up and ruffled his hair fondly, ignoring his huffs of protest. “You’ll understand, when it happens,” she assured, walking away. Sherlock frowned at the floor and stomped off to the sitting room to read, angry that his mother wouldn’t give him a straightforward explanation.
Later on, as he managed his way through boredom and bullies and endless hours of school, he started hearing more about it. Excited quips from girls, squealing and showing each other their wrists. He would sneak around and listen, struggling through their annoying giggles long enough to finally hear; the timer counting down to the day you’d meet the most important person you’d ever meet. Your soul mate.
The words made him cringe in digust. The fact that he even had a working timer was horrid; it meant he’d end up meeting someone he would be deigned to remain with for the rest of his life. How could someone stand a single person for such a long amount of time?
The time on his wrist, by age ten, still read over 40 years.
—
John spent more time than he liked to admit thinking about what his soul mate would be like.
What colour is their hair? What are their interests? Do they like sports, or do they prefer to read? What do they do? What’ll they think of me?
The final question, he knew, was ridiculous; they’d love him, just as he’d love them. That was how it worked. The question was always nagging at his mind, though.
He was something of a romantic, you could say. He liked the idea of lying around with someone, cuddling with them on cold days and teasing, flirting like no one else mattered.
He hadn’t even met his soul mate and he was enamoured of them.
The time on his wrist read 30 years on his first day of medical school, and he wondered why he was one of the few who had to wait so long. He continually told himself it would be worth it, eventually.
—
It was the first proper case Lestrade had actually, legitimately, asked Sherlock to come to, and he was being harassed about his timer.
“For god’s sake!” he shouted, practically ripping his sleeve as he tugged it back down. “Yes, I do have one, yes, it is functioning!”
Anderson was sneering at him from a distance and Sherlock had half a mind to chin him right then.
“Jesus, calm down, Sherlock!” Lestrade exclaimed, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s just - you know, a surprise. For you.”
“Not like I ruddy well control whether or not I have one,” the detective hissed, absentmindedly rubbing his wrist.
The rest of the people in the room glanced around awkwardly, hands unconsciously touching the marks on their own arms. Lestrade kept eyeing Sherlock in a way he believed to be inconspicuous until Sherlock finally snapped and remarked, “is it proof enough?”
“Proof of what?” Lestrade questioned, confused.
“Proof enough for you and your team that I’m a human being, even if I’d rather not be.”
Lestrade expression fell and he looked away, internally upset with himself. “How much time is left?”
“What’s it your business?” Sherlock muttered.
The time had jumped from ten years to twenty yesterday afternoon, and he berated himself for feeling anything by it.
—
Burning.
It was the only word present in John’s mind. Bloody accurate in so many senses. Burning desert sun, burning bullet embedded in his shoulder, burning ground against his back, burning throat as he let out strangled cries and raggedly inhaled dust.
Pain nearly covered it, but burning was more specific.
On top of the searing in his shoulder (searing worked pretty well, too), there was a hard throbbing in his right wrist, and he could see behind his eyes that the number of days until he met his soul mate were spinning rapidly, counting down.
Hell, maybe they’re dead, too, he thought. The burning sun became blotched out with black spots and John was lost to the world, writhing in the dirt unconsciously.
—
Sherlock’s eyes snapped open and he cried out in surprise, gripping his arm and working his jaw through an unexpected throb of pain. That… Definitely didn’t feel right.
He did a once-over of his arm and found nothing wrong until his eyes passed over his wrist. The numbers all read zero in dark red font and Sherlock’s expression faltered.
Just the day before they’d read four years, nine months. Something had gone wrong.
—
John’s eyes flew back open and he wheezed, trying to work against the pain in his lungs as he scraped along for air.
Broken ribs, his mind supplied. You’ve just had a heart attack, too. Don’t forget the bullet wound, of course. Sorry, you were thinking about your soul mate? Good bloody luck.
If he’d had enough oxygen, John would’ve shouted for it to shut up. He could feel hands working on him, inexperienced and trembling, moving too fast, too shoddy.
“Stay with me, mate,” the soldier begged. “God help us.”
—
Sherlock watched as the numbers started re-appearing.
1 day, 2 days. 3. 4. 5. 6.
They jumped back down to zero and his stomach flipped. They started over.
… 10, 12, 15, 22.
0.
7, 17, 20.
The detective growled in frustration and rubbed his thumb hard over the mark.
“Make up your mind!” he shouted at it, watching as it climbed to 30 and dropped again. Every time it hit zero, he’d feel a stab of pain in his chest, a heavy weight on his heart.
The number rose once more and stopped at sixty-eight days.
If he felt a swell of warmth and relief, he dismissed it.
—
“John Watson!”
Since returning home, John had stopped checking his wrist. There’d been too much distraction; teary visits from his mum and tense ones from Harry. Trying to find somewhere to stay while he was healing and until he could find a job of some kind.
“I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at! What happened?”
“… I got shot.”
There was something nagging at the back of his head, but he couldn’t place it. He felt different - almost better.
“Come on - who’d want me for a flatmate?”
It wasn’t until he stepped in the door of that lab.
“Mike, can I borrow your phone? There’s no signal on mine.”
John snapped his gaze up and his right hand clenched around the head of his cane. That voice; that gorgeous baritone sent a chill down his spine and made his chest feel like it was inflating.
“Ah - here. Use mine,” he offered breathlessly. Sherlock met his gaze and something flickered over his expression. His eyes darted down to his wrist and he lifted his sleeve just a centimetre - enough to make his breath hitch.
“Mike, give us a moment,” he ordered. Mike eyed them, back and forth, before complying and standing to walk out.
“Be back in ten minutes, mate, I ought to go check on something anyhow,” he said to John before he walked out. Sherlock stood as soon as the door shut and strode over to John, looming over him so close that John had to take a step backwards.
“Does it read zero?” Sherlock hissed. “Plain, grey zero?”
John wet his lips and sputtered a moment. Sherlock rolled his eyes and snatched the cane from John’s hand, taking his arm in the other and shoving up his sleeve.
0000d 00h 00m 00s
“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock demanded.
“What?” John asked, bewildered.
“Answer the question; Afghanistan or Iraq?”
“Afghanistan,” John managed. “How did you - “
“You were shot. You died, went into cardiac arrest, four times,” Sherlock said.
“How do you know this?” John asked.
Sherlock released John’s arm roughly and undid the cuff on his right arm, holding it out for John to see. The doctor ran a finger over it gingerly, then encircled Sherlock’s wrist with his hand. “Did you know,” Sherlock murmured, “if your soul mate - ” he said the word like it was filthy, but his gaze was still soft ” - dies, you can feel it? It shows up red on your wrist and it physically pains you.”
John swallowed and smiled tightly. “To be quite fair, I think the bullet hurt worse,” he quipped.
“What’s your name?” Sherlock asked.
“John Watson.”
“Sherlock Holmes.”
The two stared at each other in a haze, eyes scanning over each other’s faces like they were committing them to memory.
“You’re looking for a flatmate?” John inquired eventually, softly.
“Not anymore.”
Sherlock grinned and John grinned back, sliding his hand from Sherlock’s wrist to link their fingers together.
“Brilliant.”
I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS
FUCKING BRILLIANT
welovethebeekeeper:
the-seventh-stranger:
skulls-and-tea:
so just to be clear, so far we’re up to...
so just to be clear, so far we’re up to crumbling marriages, shattering climaxes, rising tides, jigsaw pieces, love conquers all, high as a kite, into the abyss, blinded by emotion, incessant tweeting….what am i forgetting
And making history…
‘Bout covers it skully.
silentauroriamthereal:
allmannerofsomethings:
textsfr0mbakerstre...
wssh-watson:
cantpronouncefromtivoli:
I’m calling the...
I’m calling the police
HOO BOY, I NEED TO GET IN ON THIS TRAIN ASAP
lestblob:
Psychologists have apparently discovered that there are two types of swearing: social...
Psychologists have apparently discovered that there are two types of swearing: social swearing, which builds solidarity, and annoyance swearing, which releases tension. On meeting Martin Freeman it seems as if these categories alone cannot possibly be enough.
With Freeman, there is also curious swearing, apathetic swearing, jealous swearing, joyful swearing. There are some F-words that stand alone proud, like drunks in the rain, and others that squeeze into the smallest slot, like commuters unwilling to wait for the next Tube.
“Don’t put all these swear words in,” he briefly pleads at the end of our chat. “Just say ‘bally’. ‘I was bally miffed.’” I agree not to name the US politician who he just called a f***ing moron. But haven’t people told him to swear less? “Yeah, they have. And I have tried. And I’ve found it’s just not for me.” Smiling, he contrasts it to giving up smoking. “I never liked smoking. I like swearing. I think swearing serves a purpose.”
Vocabulary is only one reason that Freeman, famous for his roles in The Office, The Hobbit and Sherlock, can be a tricky conversationalist. The 45-year-old is so mindful of his privacy that he has previously refused to say when he was born or if he is married. He arrives at our meeting with Beats headphones, and when I ask what he was listening to, he helpfully replies: “Various things.”
“I like to keep something in reserve, I just do. Which I think is totally normal and totally sane. The way I see it — if my work life is for you, why the f*** would I make my private life for you? It’s insane that anyone would give up both sides of their life for public consumption. Some people want to do it. Completely their f***ing funeral. But I — I absolutely reserve the right not to,” he explains. “I think it’s nice not knowing stuff. And sometimes I do like lying to people. Occasionally, just fibbing.”
Don’t get the wrong idea. Freeman is not your worst nightmare of an overpaid, ill-mannered actor; he’s not even a nightmare. British journalists often treat celebrities as our parents handled vegetables — pressure-cooking them to the point where no texture can possibly remain. But with Freeman, you do hit rawness. Such as when we stumble onto the topic of his Sherlock co-star, Amanda Abbington.
“I’m not with Amanda any more,” he whispers about the partner/possible wife/possible ex-wife who he met in 2001, and with whom he has two children. “It’s very, very amicable — I’ll always love Amanda.” Later, I ask if success has made him happier. “To a certain extent, yes,” he says. “Not as much as it might have done, and not as much as maybe I would have hoped it had.” It comes across as a tender admission.
Perhaps Freeman’s greatest achievement was to reinvent the role of the straight man for the age of fly-on-the-wall comedy. In the 2001-2003 series The Office, with a single appalled stare or conspiratorial glance at the camera, he brought home the true awfulness of David Brent. And then, just as other actors started to copy him, he got bored and branched out.
His rise can be charted by his answer to the perennial question: is he the everyman actor? There wasn’t a huge leap from his breakout role in The Office — Tim Canterbury, the playful, likeable one — to his cameo in Love Actually — John, the diffident porn star who apologises to his co-star for being “a bit forward”.
In 2005, when those were his only real hits, his response in an interview to the everyman question was a shrug: “Yes, OK, there’s worse things to be.” But after becoming Bilbo Baggins and Doctor John Watson, he started to resist the label. “To be honest, I don’t really know what that means,” he protested to The Sunday Times in 2013. These days his CV includes the complete $745m Hobbit trilogy and the award-winning TV drama Fargo, alongside Billy Bob Thornton. He has done three series of BBC mega-drama Sherlock, and returns for a fourth on New Year’s Day. So he is even less tolerant of the idea that his parts might be, well, a little similar.
“If you genuinely think that John Watson is the same as Tim Canterbury, that tells me everything I need to know about your critical facility,” he begins, withdrawing from the latte in front of him. “People draw dots. I’ve been a fairly reasonable person so they think, ‘Oh, he’s just like a guy I know. And so I could probably do it. And so everything he’s doing is the same.’ Mate, if you think you could do it, f***ing fill your boots. Please be my guest.
“If I make it look easy — without being a c*** about it, that’s because I’m good. If it was all that easy, every f***er would be doing it. And trust me they’re not. They’re really not. You see an awful lot of acting going on. And if you think I’m not acting, well, fine. I’ve done my job then.”
Partly it is Freeman’s appearance that makes his acting look unspectacular. “Look at his cartoon face and his hair. He looks like a Fisher-Price man. And his rubbish clothes,” mocked Gareth Keenan, his fictional co-worker in The Office. And it’s true: Freeman wouldn’t stand out if he weren’t famous. He does put a fair amount of effort into looking smart. His hero is Paul Weller, and his aesthetic is mod: today he’s wearing a silk scarf, a red leather jacket and red socks. We are sitting in a plush Soho hotel, with surprisingly bad background music. “In the day, Soho is my favourite place in the world,” says Freeman, who, following his break-up, lives in the genteel Belsize Park. And the night? “I’m too old for that shit now.”
***
On screen, Freeman has perfected a glorious, exasperated pause — where he purses his lips, looks to one side, and steels himself for the hell that is other people. His presence almost automatically pulls in audiences’ sympathies. In Sherlock, he makes Watson, the detective’s sidekick and best friend, into the most attractive character — while conceding there must be something dark in a veteran of Afghanistan with a continued thirst for danger. He even manages to emit affability in Fargo, where he plays a Minnesotan insurance salesman whose idea of emotionally engaging with his wife is murdering her.
“I now am mindful of ‘you think this guy’s an everyday guy, but then we find out something about him’,” he says, of his choice of roles. “I am pretty f***ing picky, and an awful lot of stuff I don’t do… I do things purely on the criteria — criterion” — he corrects himself, where other actors might not — “that I’m interested in them.
“To be honest, without sounding like Alan Partridge, ‘I bounced back’. I get those roles — those roles that are the polar opposite of those slightly passive, reactive parts… The character that I played in Captain America, that I’m about to do more of in Black Panther” — two Marvel films — “is more authoritative, guy-in-charge, government guy.”
A couple of years ago, Freeman said he still hadn’t arrived. Has he now? “Yeah, in some ways. [But] I don’t know if Tom Cruise feels he’s arrived… Because there’s always someone else doing something you should be doing.”
His role in Captain America was fleeting, but it is still the big time. Does he notice the power of big Hollywood budgets? “No, you don’t,” he says. “Where you notice it is in the catering — if there’s posh snacks, and if no one’s flinching when you say, ‘Can I get a coffee?’
“Everyone wants more time and money. The only job I’ve done where that didn’t seem to be the case was The Hobbit… Every budget other than that that I’ve ever done has been ‘F***, we’re running out of time’.”
Freeman grew up in Teddington, south-west London, the youngest of five children; his mum and dad, a former naval officer, who separated when he was young, imparted a certain creativity. “We weren’t the Von Trapps. My dad was a painter, we all painted. Mum had been — she’d wanted to be an actor, when she was younger; life took over, the 1950s took over. But you know, we all knew we were allowed. That was a big thing,” he says.
“There were books in the house. You always knew you were allowed to think, to express yourself. In fact, in the Freeman family you’d better f***ing express yourself because — ‘Don’t be boring. Don’t be a spectator. Bring something.’ Whether it was music or art, people did some stuff in my family. And thank God I found acting because I wasn’t a good enough painter or songwriter.”
Music was indeed the dream; his elder brother Tim was in the 1980s band Frazier Chorus. “Way before I wanted to be an actor, I wanted to be in The Specials,” he says. “Before acting — before this life — I had my other inner life, which I still have. So if I’m not hanging out with actors, and people who understand this world, which I really love, I’m chatting about shoes with someone in Bar Italia.”
He studied at London’s Central School of Speech and Drama. “I remember a thing that one of the teachers said: ‘If you want to escape from yourself, or if you think you’re going to be someone else, then acting is the worst job in the world. Because this tells you more about yourself than you want to know.’ Which I think is really interesting and really true. I’ve always felt that the really, really interesting stuff that we see actors do has to be them… If you’re not drawing on truth for you, then it’s f***ing pointless.”
Freeman dropped out of acting school to join the National Theatre, before surfacing on television. It fits with his general desire to move on: he says he was glad when The Office came to an end after just two series. (He watched the US remake, starring Steve Carell as the Brent figure and John Krasinski as the American version of Tim, but “lost contact with it” after the fourth of the nine series.) “I’ve got quite a low boredom threshold, including in myself. I bore myself quite easily.”
How long will he continue with Sherlock? “All I can say… is that I love things being finite… I’m always happy to stop before people have wanted you to stop, or The Beatles would still be going. I’m very, very glad that they went, ‘no, that’s enough’.”
As a teenager, Freeman played competitive squash but quit because of a lack of a “killer instinct”, he says. Does he have a killer instinct as an actor? “I don’t think you need it in acting. One of the least attractive traits I find in actors is people who think they can win at acting… That they think art is something you can win at… And you do come across it. ‘Oh, I smashed it. F***ing knocked it out the park.’ That’s for me — that’s an aspect of modern life where I feel about 100 years old… I think people used to say it ironically around here. It’s ceased to be ironic — it’s now just, ‘Yeah, I’m amazing’.”
Which brings us to Ricky Gervais, his co-star in The Office, who has now fully outgrown the UK and perhaps his own head. Freeman, who has not seen Gervais “for ages”, searches for the right amount of mischief. “I like that he uses a lot of his voice against animal cruelty, I really admire that. And the rest of his voice about self-aggrandisement, which is fine. It’s a fifty-fifty thing: he loves himself, but he also sticks up for puppies.”
Contrast that with Freeman’s view of Fargo co-star Billy Bob Thornton: “He and I would talk about music endlessly. He basically is still that southern Beatles fan, who he always, always, always was.”
How does Freeman keep himself sane? “I put the kettle on. Genuinely. Without being glib about it. I put the kettle on, put a record on, see the kids, and it’s gone… I’ve never gone home thinking, I’m still that character. Some actors want that. They think that’s what makes good acting. Especially younger actors — ‘I stayed in character all weekend.’ Did you? Good for you, man. No, I’ve never done that.”
Of Freeman’s major roles, none is overtly political. Yet the man himself most definitely is. “I grew up aware that people were pissed off.” He started acting in youth theatre, “because I thought I could bring down the Tory government” (and “also cos I’m a f***ing show-off”).
As a teenager he volunteered with the Labour party’s Young Socialists wing, then ruled by Militant, a revolutionary group whose leaders were ultimately banned from Labour. “I would occasionally be selling Militant [its in-house magazine], and be raising money for Militant, just by dint of the fact that was sort of who ran the Labour Party Young Socialists.”
Gradually he has lost confidence perhaps not in radical ideas, but in their application. Acting for political reasons is “tedious”. “I’m not very fond of overly serious, earnest people. I’m not very fond of people who don’t see shades.”
Freeman remains a Labour supporter, fronting a party election broadcast for Ed Miliband in 2015, and joining the party later that year to vote for Jeremy Corbyn. But he recognises that his commitment may be irrational. “To be absolutely honest, it is like a football team. I was very clear — I did the Labour broadcast because that’s my team. However f***ed up the team is — it’s like the BBC, that’s my team. I will go to the grave for the BBC. Even when they’re driving me nuts.”
Labour is driving many people nuts, but not quite Freeman. To my slight dismay, he seems keen for a discussion about the divisions between the party’s members and its MPs, before satisfying himself with: “I want Labour in power, so I hope now that this is going to work. To be absolutely honest, I think it’s a minor miracle whenever a Labour party gets into power, whoever it is.” With Corbyn, “I do understand that the danger is it’s T-shirt politics. But genuinely I’ve wanted things to be f***ing renationalised for ever. He talks about it, like I think a Labour leader should… But I don’t think he is the messiah.”
Is it harder or easier for Freeman to be a socialist now that he’s rich? “It’s harder because I know more. Because I also know that I don’t know anything. The reason I would never go on Question Time — I love watching Question Time, it’s one of my favourite programmes — I would get into a conversation with you about trade deficits, and you’d f***ing take me to the cleaners… I’d go on there and just want to be liked and that’s pathetic.”
I ask how rich he is. “I don’t pay attention to that.” But he must get bank statements. “I don’t look at them. Honest to God, I don’t look at them… Maybe because I think if I look, it won’t be as much as I thought it was.” He can, of course, afford pretty much everything. He spent £6,500 on an 1852 map of London — “Beautiful… As soon as you go anywhere east you’re in Essex” — but it was a one-off. Mostly it’s clothes, and the odd luxury holiday. “I don’t do it as easily as some people I know do. I was going to say I wish I had more ease with it. But then that’s me. Then I’d be someone slightly different.”
The discomfort is one thing; the anger is another. “I go on the basis that we’re all everything and it just depends which button you turn up at any given time. You can be really happy or really angry. You throw your head back in laughter, and other times you can be a miserable sod, I presume, because I think f***ing everyone can be.”
Well, yes, but that is, by my count, his 40th F-word of the conversation — my dial doesn’t go that far. “My capacity for immediate anger is surprising sometimes,” he concedes. “Even surprises me. F***ing hell, like, ‘Where did that come from?’” I push him for an example. “People don’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Drives me f***ing nuts.” He has no social media accounts, because, “My career would be over within five minutes. If I was on Twitter, I would be f***ed, f***ed. Five minutes.” Success “has not changed what’s in there,” he says, gesturing at his chest inside his red leather coat.
Did he think fame would sort him out? “No. But I thought age might. I thought, ‘F***ing hell, by 45, surely I won’t be thinking this shit in my head’… I’m not so wound up as I was at 23 about wrong and right, and about my motivations. Now I just acknowledge that my own motivations for everything are pretty f***ing muddy.”
Freeman’s two children are old enough to think of becoming actors. Is he wary of that? “Absolutely… Yeah, they’re talented. Especially our daughter is more front foot into the idea. For me, it’s about balancing encouragement with non-delusion. And also trying to inculcate those things of work — not just hard work, although hard work is a big part of it, but also taste and why do you want this? Because if you think you want this because of this f***ing huge trailer that you’re in now, because you’re having lunch with me, that’s not a good reason, because this probably won’t happen, just by law of averages. I can’t make this happen, I wouldn’t want to f***ing make this happen.”
I’m not sure quite what type of swearing this is, but it seems almost caressing, parental. Whatever strange fire burns inside Martin Freeman, it does at least throw off some warmth.
original article: https://www.ft.com/content/2f0d56bc-c657-11e6-8f29-9445cac8966f
Wow. Lots of interesting stuff in this one. Confirms the AA split. That’s sad.
Sherlock S4 Starter Pack (Pt 2)
PBS’ Sherlock Page Now Available
PBS Announces Airtime of 9:00PM EST
BBC Adds Official Synopsis to their Site
T6T Quietly Prescreened Today
Daily Mail Shunted from Seeing the Pre-Screening
BAFTA TLD PreScreening on January 8, 2017 | [POST 2]
Sherlock Featured in Dec. 6th’s Issue of Crime Scene MagazineUPDATED DECEMBER 2, 2016
Beryl Vertue Receives Women in Film Award
BBC Releases Christmas Promo | New Clip of John Watson
Radio Times Article Discussing the Christmas Season for BBC
Crime Scene Magazine Scans | [HI RES SCANS]
Mexico, Argentina, Colombia and Chile to Air Sherlock on Jan 1!!UPDATED DECEMBER 5, 2016
PBS Has Official Airdates up on Their Website: Jan 1, 8 & 15
Livestream Links for S4
BFI & RadioTimes Festival to Discuss Sherlock in April
Episode Title for E3 Possibly Confirmed by Actor
Guardian Article: Beryl Vertue on SherlockUPDATED DECEMBER 6, 2016
Martin and Ben Interview for Australia’s Today
[GIFS 1] | [GIFS 2] | [GIFS 3] | [GIFS 4] | [CAPS 1]
UK Airdates to Air Same Day as US Dates! Jan 1, 8, and 15UPDATED DECEMBER 7, 2016
Season 4 Post-TAB Material | [TRANSCRIPT]
“First Memories of Sherlock” FeaturetteUPDATED DECEMBER 8, 2016
T6T Airing at 8:30pm on BBC ONE January 1
Watching Season Four: Tips for New Fans
Martin Freeman to Appear on Late Show with Stephen Colbert! New Clip is confirmed to play!!
Martin Freeman: How Baby Will Change the Show (EW Article)
Masterpiece Changes Airtimes of Episodes
Martin Freeman on Radio Show!
BAFTA Celebration of Sherlock Event Happened today!
VIDEO: Montage Video Shown at Start of Event
Quotes 1 | Quotes 2 | Quotes 3 | Quotes 4 | Quote 5 | Title Reveal | Quotes 6 | Quotes 7 | Quotes 8
Episode Three Title Confirmed: The Final Problem
Cinematic Release of The Final Problem Confirmed for US, UK and Ireland (Radio Times Article)
Canada also to Get Screening! January 19th at Select Cineplex Cinemas
New Trailer Coming Soon!
MARTIN FREEMAN ON STEPHEN COLBERT
[GIFS 1] | [GIFS 2] | [GIFS 3] | [GIFS 4] | [GIFS 5] | [GIFS 6]
NEW SHERLOCK TRAILER RELEASED
[GIF 1] | [GIF 2]
Season 4′s Intense New Trailer (EW)
BBC Has T6T Programme Spot Up on their Site
New Watson Family Promo Released
Tweet From Michael Price
Baby Watson’s Name Released
Announcement in the Telegraph
Plot Synopsis Released for TLD
Fathom Events: Tickets on Sale for TFP Screening
Cineplex Events: TFP Canadian Screenings now on Sale!
Interview: How Toby Jones Created His “Genuinely Scary” Sherlock Villain
SHERLOCK S4+ TAB Music Announced to Be Released For Christmas | [Tracklist for TAB]
Sherlock Article in HEAT Magazine
‘The One Show’ Clip Released
[GIFS 1] | [GIFS 2]
T6T Readthrough Video
[GIFS]Screenspy: Genius Misunderstood (Article)
Track Listing Released for T6T and TLD
Sherlock Promo Photo Released
Microscope Photo Scan
Hi Res of Sherlock
Daily Mail Releases New Promo Photo
With Additional Stuff
HI RES PHOTO
Guardian Article about T6T
Guardian Spread PhotoFilmfixer Article about T6T
Radio Times Article About T6T
Times Review of T6T
PBS Releases “Group Photo” Photo With Tagline
New Hi-Res Mycroft - Sherlock - John Promo
New Hi-Res Character Promo Stills Released!
Article: Having Baby on Sherlock set made Ben less precious about acting (Telegraph)
Guardian Article About Sherlock S4
T6T Snippet Review
BBC Media Centre: Interview With Benedict Cumberbatch
BBC Media Centre: Interview With Martin Freeman
BBC Media Centre: Interview With Mark Gatiss
BBC Media Centre: Interview With Steven Moffat
BBC Media Centre: Interview With Amanda Abbington
BBC Media Centre: Interview With Louise Brealey
BBC Media Centre: Interview With Rupert Graves
BBC Officially Announces Airtime for TLD
Martin and Mark on BBC Radio 4
Sherlock S4 Launch This Evening!
[PHOTOS 1] | [PHOTOS 2] | [PHOTOS 3] | [PHOTOS 4] | [PHOTOS 5] | [PHOTOS 6] | [PHOTOS 7] | [PHOTOS 8] | [PHOTOS 9] | [Q&A 1] |
Ben on BBC Radio 5 Live! (starts at 1:52:39)UPDATED DECEMBER 20, 2016
Solve a Crime Like Sherlock Holmes” BBC Article
Sherlockology Review of T6T
RadioTimes Review of T6T
Benedict Cumberbatch on How Sherlock is Softening
Den of Geek Review of T6T
Metro.UK Review of T6T
Martin and Ben at T6T Screening
Time Out Interview with Mark Gatiss
‘Benedict Cumberbatch says steer clear of fan theories’
NEW CZECH TRAILER [NEW SCENES] [NEW SCENES 2] [3] [4]UPDATED DECEMBER 21, 2016
Amanda Abbington on iTV This Morning
Sherlock BTS: Ben on How Sherlock Has Grown
NEW PROMO PHOTOS ADDED TO FARFARAWAYSITE!
love-in-mind-palace:
cloaklevitation:
duskybatfishgirl:
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...
(x)
I GASPED REALLY LOUDLY when I scrolled down and this appeared. Oh my fuck
This is the 4th version of this photo I am reblogging.I will reblog every version believe me
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