Young Sherlock

Young Sherlock opens in Newgate Prison. Not metaphorically, not as a framing device to be revealed later, but immediately: iron bars, stone walls, a young man in confinement. Minutes later, Kasabian’s Days Are Forgotten blasts over the opening credits – making it clear that the Prime Video series is as much a Sherlock adaptation as it is a Guy Ritchie production.

From there, the scene shifts to Oxford University, where 19-year-old Sherlock Holmes (Hero Fiennes Tiffin) is receiving an education – though not quite in the way one might expect. Dining halls, cloisters, and shadowed corridors provide new backdrops for a character so often associated with Baker Street. Doorways and window light are used deliberately, and college balls become stages for confrontation.

Narratively, the show operates more closely to the Holmes template than its aesthetic might suggest. The plot hinges on the detective’s talent for spotting what others miss, from a broken clock to a carriage track in the mud that suggests a drunken driver. Yet much of the surrounding cast is new or substantially reimagined, making this less a retread than an attempt at expansion. Historical or literary fidelity is not a pressing concern; the series inhabits the past and Doyle’s canon without seeming especially beholden to either. At times, that looseness veers into the faintly absurd – one ball gown, complete with a sheer overlay, bears a shocking resemblance to a gymnastics leotard.

Moriarty emerges as the most promising of these revisions – and the least recognisable. Played with razor-sharp comic timing by Dónal Finn, he brings a mercurial wit and elasticity that frequently outshine the central performance. Fiennes Tiffin’s Sherlock is strongest in moments of intensity, when flashes of focus sharpen his presence. His comedic delivery, however, is more uneven. The writing leans heavily into Sherlock’s dry humour and social awkwardness, but scenes dependent on Fiennes Tiffin’s timing frequently fall flat – even one staged with what amounts to a built-in laughing audience. The exceptions are his chirpy exchanges with his long-suffering brother Mycroft (Max Irons) and his scenes opposite philanthropist Sir Bucephalus Hodge (Colin Firth). There is also a welcome broadening of the female roles beyond Irene Adler: Sherlock’s mother (Natasha McElhone) is given a more substantive role, while Chinese princess Shou’an (Zine Tseng) – a visiting scholar with a mysterious past and formidable martial-arts skills – is unmistakably a Ritchie creation.

Ultimately, Young Sherlock is clearly not attempting to be the definitive Holmes. It is fresher, louder, and bolder, giving more weight to its setting and supporting cast than its predecessors. Yet as a series built around Sherlock Holmes, it still rises or falls on its lead. Whether Fiennes Tiffin can bring greater precision and authority to the role will determine whether this origin story holds together as a compelling portrait – or remains simply an interesting experiment.