Less solid than Cumberbatch’s performance was the murder plot, which arrived late, left early and didn’t achieve a huge amount in between. Lucky then, that the actor held the thing together. Being the ringmaster of The Sign Of Three’s particular circus, with its erratic leaps and timeline jiggery-pokery, was no small ask. The episode demanded clowning and a good deal more from Benedict Cumberbatch, who was rarely off-screen for the ninety minutes and ran things more or less single-handedly in that time. It was a warm-hearted, frenetic instalment that left you feeling punch drunk and loved-up: Sherlock Actually.
No strangers to the wedding comedy genre, how might the British viewing public feel about watching one smuggled inside an episode of Sherlock? Fondly, is the hope, if initially disorientated and – depending on your belief in the powers of a tight belt – somewhat incredulous.
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