"This episode will be derided as Steven Moffat trying too hard to outwit the viewer and twisting what should be a perfectly simple whodunit into a plot device of labyrinth complexity. But the secret is that it isn’t that clever and it doesn’t completely make sense, because it’s not supposed to. Moffat and Gatiss just filmed 90 minutes of the internal monologue of a tortured queer genius drug addict off his tits on coke, wrapped it up in a gothic mystery, and then gave it to us as a late Christmas present."(via heliumstars)
I am pretty much onboard with this as a response to the delightful, silly, maddening and somewhat ridiculous Sherlock Christmas special, which I heartily enjoyed.
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