Non-Review: Sherlock Holmes - As reviewed by Watson

I was amused by the dancing images on the screen before me. I thought likely at first that it was some parlor trick perpetrated by some outstandingly talented prestidigitator. Then remembering something I'd read in a newspaper, I deduced it was the new invention that American chap had crafted. A moving picture I believe it was called. I felt a little of the old pride surging till I realized that if Holmes had been there, he probably would have figured it out in half the time it took me.

As I watched, the strangest of creatures danced for me, imploring to visit the lobby, where I could have a snack. It was hard for me to understand why living food would encourage me to eat its friends. I felt uneasy and slouched down in my seat, glancing around the large auditorium to see if anyone felt as I did. To my amazement everyone seemed to accept this as normal. One particularly rotund man even rose, presumably to engage in the profligate activity presented on screen.

Needless to say I was relieved when the creatures were gone from the screen. In their place came the happy faces of young children playing in a schoolyard. I delighted to watch them running around, merrily singing some rhyme about a fellow named 'Freddie.' My joy quickly turned to horror as I realized the nature of Freddie was something unholy. The images were coming quickly now. Young men and women, running and screaming; fighting for their lives. Blood was splattered everywhere as innocent youths were taken during the prime of their lives by a man with a burnt face. Even more horrendous, after the window went black with the words 'Coming Soon' emblazoned upon it, the crowd I was with began cheering loudly. It seemed they welcomed the violence.

It was all too much to take in. What hellish nightmare had I awoken into? What dismal reality was this where an audience delighted to see their children's lives snatched from them? My mouth was dry as I waited to see what would be shown next.

A world of monsters came next. They looked human, but they fed upon the blood of men. In this reality men and women were basically raised as cattle for the 'vampires' to feed upon. It left me conflicted. Who was I to feel for? Should I cheer for the humans, my own kind, to fight bravely and escape this world. Was it better that they all die and take these apostates with them? Should I feel sorry for the new ruling class and accept that their problem was something terrifying to them? The moral issues slammed into my cerebellum at a rate that could not be quantified. I felt that I must get up before I found myself transported to one of these strange new worlds.

And then it was over. A message came up requesting that some kind of phones be turned off. After the words  flew off the the side of the screen, we appeared to be moving. I watched the window as we began swirling into some kind of a tunnel. I knew I had to get out before it was too late; before the vortex could take me. I pried myself out of the chair. My shoes tried to stay frozen to the floor as if glued there, but through sheer force of will I pulled free. I exited as quickly as I could. I thought about trying to save some of the others, but decided they were not of my world. Once free of the fantasmagorical window, I breathed a sigh of relief and headed out the door.

If that's what they consider to be an accurate portrayal of Holmes well... they're only half right.

I couldn't possibly rate it any better than 3out of 10