#elementary 2x10

We begin with a typical start to a day at the police HQ when a young man enters and claims to have killed a woman named Rhoda.  He reaches for a gun, but Sherlock conveniently manages to talk him out of it.

Next, we have a clever transition to the court scene via the cup of water, and onto the main plot and framing device of the episode: the trial, and we have the trope of the unreliable narrator.  Ironically, the unreliable narrator is Sherlock.  Sherlock, who is supposed to find the truth about cases is now lying about several.

Back to the first case.  The young man who brought a gun into the police station reveals that he goes by the nickname "the Knight" and  that he beheaded "the Queen."

Sherlock points out the Romantic (as in Medieval) references in Silas Cole's language, and here we have the crew basically putting up a neon sign that says "NOTICE ME, I'M AN ALLEGORY!"

What is an allegory?  An allegory is a literary device involving a person/item/event standing for a theme, message, or idea.  (Ex: Animal Farm by George Orwell represents Communism, A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin is a fantasy retelling of history)

When Cole mentions the Queen, the camera lingers on Bell, who--characteristically--wears purple, the color of royalty.  This is foreshadowing, and Bell is the Queen.  Who is Bell's Knight?  Sherlock.  Sherlock, who, like Cole, is not neurotypical and mentally healthy, so to speak.  He's getting over an addiction, and recovery is a life-long process.  Like Cole, Sherlock is struggling and vulnerable.

Cole is schizophrenic (though I believe this is the wrong word for his condition).  When Bell, Watson, and Holmes search his apartment (which is an amazing set!), they find a large painting of Cole slicing Rhoda's head off.  "That guy was in no shape to be dating anyone," Bell remarks, eyeing the painting.  Watson replies, "You don't know what he was like on his meds."  When was the last time we saw a giant painting?  Oh, yes, with Moriarty (and, judging by promotional pictures for upcoming episodes, this is a deliberate running theme). Moriarty, whose name is French, and which country had a huge impact on Medieval art and concepts of Romance?  France.  (Interestingly and not all coincidentally, Moriarty has the root for "morte," which means death).  So, now we see more similarities between Sherlock and Cole, the most striking being that they were involved in their respective queen's attacks.

Furthering the Medieval allegory, Sherlock explains that in classic literature, "The heart was the vessel of the soul."  Bell is the heart, the vessel for the soul.  Gregson is the soul--the mind, the psyche, the conscience.  Both are our "good guy" cops, our archetypes (the mentor and lieutenant), our throwbacks to the past.  Joan is also the heart, but in a modern sense.  She represents the emotion and compassion, feelings we now know are based in the brain, not the chest or spleen.  She is, to speak 'the vessel of the brain."  And, to round off this quartet, Sherlock is the brain.

The night after the first day of the trial, Watson comes across Sherlock "finding other uses of his time," that is to say, balancing Clyde against a taxidermist's stuffed squirrel.  Weighing life against death, his life against his work.  We've seen that Sherlock's work has taken over his life, that he has returned full-force to work at the expense of his personal life.

After examining Rhoda's liquified organs (which only fuels my headcanon that in AU, Watson would make an excellent Anatomy teacher or mortician, and Sherlock would be a lawyer that she gets caught up in a murder investigation with), Watson finds that Rhoda had an enlarged heart.  That's right, the Queen had a big heart.  And who else has a big metaphysical heart?  Bell.  Bell, who is shown with a sense of humor, a love for his family, a soft spot for Joan and Sherlock.  Bell, who instinctively jumped in front of a bullet for Sherlock and Joan.

On the day of the shooting, Bell rejects (in a way that makes me believe Sherlock has asked on multiple occasions) Sherlock's idea of teaching him fencing, which is *cough* rather *cough* phallic imagery (two people thrusting their swords at teach other. Takes Joan learning how to "hit the Pate" and Sherlock and Mycroft, uh, going at it to a new level!).  Confronted by an armed man who lost almost everything because of Sherlock (I can't remember his name), Sherlock--instead of being reasonable--agitates him, and he fires.  Bell automatically (which leads me to believe that, when wearing a bulletproof vest, of course, he's jumped in front of people before) takes the hit and falls to his knees.  Watson rushes and is practically glued to his side while Sherlock stands several paces away, stunned.

How many times has Sherlock seen people shot?  How many times has he seen or known of people he cares about getting hurt, so often because of him?  When will this take a psychological toll that is addressed by the narrative outside of this episode, in which it is called 'guilt?'  This is not good for his mental health.

After Gregson, Watson, and even the NYPD Commissioner visit Bell, Sherlock finally swallows his guilt, acts like a responsible adult, and walks his butt over to the hospital.  In the final scene of the episode, we have Sherlock approaching Bell in the hospital.  Instead of meeting in the hospital ward, like we've seen in other moments with Bell and his visitors, Sherlock and Bell have their conversation in a recreation room overlooking the beautiful (and romantic) view of the New York skyline at night.  They are alone in the room which, unlike the hospital ward, has color.  It's stuffy, but not sterile.  From the get go, we know this won't be a repeat of the Bell brothers' conversation in "Details."  This is not framed as 'Bell is the poor victim who may never recover full use of his arm,' but 'Bell is strong, recovering, and now feels utterly alone in the city.'  By placing their meeting at the very end of the episode, this ties off Sherlock's guilt subplot of the episode (which should be continued, and if it isn't, I'll have to try very hard to refrain from kicking someone in the shins) and highlights how significant this scene is for the characters and what it means for the rest of the season.  The most important scenes in relation to the seasonal arc always bookmark each episode.

Alone together, physically close but emotionally distant, Sherlock and Bell share a painful conversation.  Sherlock does something remarkable (character wise).  He apologizes, and not in a roundabout way like he did with Gregson.  He very clearly states "There's much I should say to you.  Thanks for intervening [...] and I apologize."  But let's not forget "There's much I should say to you."  *Fiddles with slash goggles*  Please, Sherlock.  Tell us more.  "I hate what happened to you," he continues, "and whatever role I played in it."  He acknowledges that this is partially his fault.  He is not completely to blame.  Watson has taught him this.  But he is partially responsible.  Admitting failure, that he is not "superior in every way."  This is huge.  And he does it to Marcus Bell, the man he describes to the court as "Several standard deviations above the norm," and to Watson as one of his few friends.  He respects Bell so much that everyone else is distinctly "Not Bell" to him, so he partially tunes them out and takes everything they say with a mouthful of salt as opposed to the grain he gives Bell's opinions.  Just think, at the beginning of season one, Sherlock shrugged off Bell, his greeting, and his theories.  Can you say character development?

But Bell is hurting.  He may never regain total use of his arm again, so he can't be a cop because cops are required to carry guns and he can't carry a gun if he can't even lift it.  He could lose his job.  (Though, why not pull a Skyfall and give him a job like Gregson's?)  He's lost his identity.  He's no longer Bulletproof Bell, a dutiful son, a forgiving brother, a boy who climbed his way out of gang life, who went to college so he could join law enforcement, and one of Gregson's "best guys."  He's a wounded man about to lose his job, one of the best thing's that's happened to him.  He has every right to be angry, and he is.  Sherlock's apology, no matter how difficult it is for him to say it, is not enough for Bell.  An apology doesn't restore his arm.  Offering to pay for therapists doesn't fix damaged nerve endings.  He feels paid off by a rich English man who just showed up one day to do his job and was not at all humble about it.  Friends?  He got along better with Watson.  Past attempts to reach Sherlock have been met with rude stares, like in "The Woman."  Of course he rejects Sherlock's offer.  "I don't want to see you," he says, rejecting Sherlock for a second time this episode.  He stands and walks out of the room, leaving Sherlock alone like Sherlock had left Marcus alone.  Maybe I'm seeing what I want to see, but this feels like a break-up or rejection of a make-up scene.  Thoughts?

Throwbacks to previous episodes: Cole was manipulated by the murderer doctor into thinking that he was responsible.  Sounds like the pilot, does it not?  And the painting, a reminder of the flashback to Irene in "The Woman."  Finally, fencing.  We've seen Sherlock encourage Watson to fence.  We've seen Mycroft and Sherlock fencing, and now he wants to each Bell how to fence.  Also, while Bell is in the hospital, Sherlock is furiously practicing his fencing with a model, a reference to his angry boxing earlier this season.  Like baking Yorkshire Pudding, combat is a stress reliever for him.  It's taking the place of the drugs, alcohol, and frequent sex that he used to have.

Title meanings: Bell's palsy in his arm, and (okay, I'm reaching here) trembling in fear or when you're about to cry, and the tremble of earthquakes--when your life trembles underfoot after a sudden change).

Clyde makes another cameo!

The prosecution lawyer's subplot as a recovering addict was interesting, and I hope she plays a part in later episodes, because a woman who clips a picture of a philosopher to her work folder is all sorts of fascinating.  Plus her reactions to Sherlock's antics were great.

Diversity pros and cons: More white males show up than non-white and non-male characters.  One of the female characters of this episode is dead from the beginning.  A mentally ill character is not the villain, but a red herring, and a tragic one at that, though I wish we could have at least seen him one more time.  And the judge was great.  Like the lawyer (I can't remember their names, if their names were given), they match Sherlock's every antic and held their own in the scenes that focused on Sherlock.

Shipper moments:

Joanlock--their conversations about Sherlock's emotions/guilt and morals, Joan upholding Sherlock's testimony against her better judgement, Sherlock gazing mournfully at Joan as she is led away from the courtroom by Gregson.  

Joanbell/Jarcus--Joan visiting Bell in the hospital multiple times, rushing to him when he is shot, and probably tending to him until the ambulance arrives (hurt/comfort all the way).  

Joan/Gregson (do we have a name for them?)--Gregson gives Joan some tender, reassuring touches and meaningful looks, whether of pity or not, it's ship fodder.  

But, in my humble opinion, the flagship of this episode was Lockbell--the episode revolves around the two, about their actions and reactions.  Bell holds a gun to a potential threat, Sherlock talks Cole out of hurting anyone (nice foreshadowing and dichotomy, writers!).  Sherlock goads an imminent threat, Bell takes the fall for Sherlock (excuse me while I play Poets of the Fall on repeat).  Bell is in the hospital, Sherlock publicly gives him one of the highest compliments we've seen from Sherlock.  Sherlock apologizes, Bell refuses the apology.  Action.  Reaction.

Bell seems to be (to me, at least) a foil to Holmes.  Holmes is brash.  Bell is cautious.  Holmes is egotistical about his intelligence.  Bell admits he doesn't know everything.  Holmes sees many people as 'the other,' sometimes as beneath him.  Bell sees people as civilians, victims, perpetrators, co-workers, etc.  Holmes consults with the NYPD.  Bell actually works for them.  Holmes grew up in a rich family (governesses, nannies, boarding school, the whole nine yards that seems like a "Downton Abbey"-esque historical fantasy to most Americans, I'd argue).  Bell grew up in a rough area, one that required him to join a gang (Why do people join gangs?  Not just to be tough or thug, or whatever the media portrays it as.  They join gangs for protection, to survive with a social group that will stand with them).  Holmes seemed like he couldn't wait to get away from his family.  Bell stuck with his mother after his brother, Andre, left.  (Maybe Bell sees a bit of Andre in Holmes?)  Holmes is our Byronic hero.  Bell is the conventional/archetypal American 'good guy' cop.  Holmes is the head.  Bell is the heart.