“So what is it tonight? Morphine or cocaine?” — Dr Watson to a visibly entranced Sherlock Holmes.

It is no coincidence, perhaps, that a special episode of the British television show Sherlock uses this iconic line from the original series that use the same setting as Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories. The homage is an excellent occasion to revisit the definitive television adaptation of Doyle’s supremely popular fictional character, played by Jeremy Brett.

Thanks to Doordarshan’s friendly ties with Granada TV, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1984-94) was our first and only glimpse of Brett, considered one of the greatest Sherlocks ever, especially at a time when social media and computer-generated imagery did not play any part in perpetuating stardom.

Play

The adaptation was fiercely true to the source, while Brett owned the role completely. The stage actor, who had a complex and tormented personal life (doomed straight and gay relationships, the tragic death of his mother, a debilitating bipolar disorder), was said to have been obsessed with Holmes. So consumed was Brett with the character that even when his co-actors took breaks from their work, he would study his dialogue sheets and get deeper and deeper under the skin of Holmes. (Edward Hardwicke plays John H Watson.) He dreamt of the private detective and had frequent nightmares too. According to reports, he also began referring to Holmes as “You Know Who” or HIM.

The obsession showed in every frame.

The edge in Brett’s body language, the sheer physicality honed by his years on the stage, and the unhealthy white pallor on his face during the time his arch-enemy Moriarty began to take over his sanity—there was no room for witty repartee and bromance at 221 Baker Street. Brett’s Holmes was relentlessly sharp, dark, solitary and tortured. Who can forget the fearful syringes, the quicksilver moves to disarm attackers and the fantastic disguises?

Play

Brett was everything fans of Holmes imagine him to be – the manic energy, razor-sharp features, the back-brushed hair, the lanky frame and the feline grace with which he would always land on his feet. And that gaze – piercing, searing, stripping the soul down to its nakedness.

Certain changes were made to the series with the permission of Doyle’s daughter to make it more suitable for the show’s young audience. But at its core, the show belonged to its star actor, who died while the series was probably in its last leg.

In a chilling and rare moment of vulnerability, Brett had confessed: “Some actors fear if they play Sherlock Holmes for a very long run the character will steal their soul, leave no corner for the original inhabitant. Holmes has become the dark side of the moon for me. He is moody and solitary and underneath I am really sociable and gregarious. It has all got too dangerous.”

A second look at the series takes on a completely new dimension in view of these words.

Play