Oh my God, it’s feminism
Sherlock Holmes adaptations seem overdone in this age, but the creative exploit of using him as a side character proved to be one of Enola Holmes’ most charming features. Directed by Harry Bradbeer of Fleabag acclaim, one of Netflix’s latest film releases, Enola Holmes, possesses the unique characteristic of feeling like a young adult novel come to life — but in a more enriching way than most adaptations. After her mother disappears on her 16th birthday, Enola is burdened with the sudden return of her two older brothers: Mycroft and Sherlock. While Sherlock views Enola in a favourable light, Mycroft is determined to send her away to a finishing school to transform her into a “proper” young lady who will one day find a husband.
Unfortunately, in Enola Holmes, Sherlock’s cavalier attitude toward his younger sister is frustrating next to Mycroft’s abusive tirades. When he has the means to intervene, he simply refuses to, acting as an “ostrich” as Edith, the film’s sole woman of colour, tells him. But Sherlock’s unflattering characterization is of vital importance, as it demonstrates how often men in positions of power scapegoat their responsibilities instead of using it for the betterment of the marginalized. By ignoring the situation or simply not involving himself in political matters, Sherlock permits Mycroft’s abuse and avoids revolutionary political discussion where his voice would have weight and persuasion. When Enola confronts him about the fact that he won’t help her escape Mycroft’s cruel demands, he chastises her for being emotional — because women under duress expressing any emotion is often “too much.”
In film, young, female protagonists who lack emotion or compassion because of their overwhelming burden to fix the calamities around them — like Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games franchise — are more overdone than Sherlock Holmes adaptations. But Enola is a refreshing injection of hope, tenacity, and intelligence. Her carefree, gentle attitude illuminates her as a character to root for and believe in. She is never handed gimmicky plot devices such as convenient eclipses or a deus ex machina in order to progress through the film but instead cleverly handles each situation with her smarts and eagerness. Her humanization is an enchanting touch when the name Holmes is often equated with a pompous, unemotional white man never capable of fumbling or imperfection — for example, his portrayals in BBC’s Sherlock and Robert Downey Jr.’s Sherlock Holmes.
The portrayals of the three central characters are what make this film so engaging, and that unfortunately includes the villainous Mycroft. I could never tolerate a man — fictional, historical, or alive — who lacks empathy toward women and dismisses teenage girls as silly, frivolous things unworthy of their own autonomy. Mycroft situates himself as an upper-class nobleman, a hand to the British government, and vastly superior to his rural mother and unpretentious little sister. The only woman he shows warm regards to is the head of the finishing school, Miss Harrison, who is dutifully subservient and viciously punitive toward Enola during her free-spirited ascent into womanhood.
Mycroft is an incorrigible character, all too human in his unkindness, and all too familiar in his obsession with gender roles and the inferiority of women. It’s not fresh commentary by any means, as the discussion of feminism and patriarchal villains has cropped up notably in shows like The Handmaid’s Tale and Agent Carter. But in these conversations, we often omit the specific disdain directed at teenage girls who are subjected to alienation, ridicule, and condemnation when they pursue feminist philosophy or independence. Enola centres this discussion on young women; she is desperate to regain the autonomy she had under her mother’s guardianship yet is condemned for this by nearly every character she comes across in the film. Her mother’s teachings encourage her to persevere, even when the world is telling her she doesn’t deserve more than the role of a bride. As she uncovers her mother’s radical plot to further the women’s suffrage movement, Enola comes to understand firsthand the significance of this fight, and that she’s been instilled with the skills to make it on her own.
As delightful as the storyline proves to be from start to finish, Enola Holmes has little to offer in terms of diverse representation. Only two characters of colour have speaking roles, and while their roles are prevalent to the plot — Edith is a black jiu-jitsu fighter who secretly trains women, and Inspector Lestrade is the head detective searching for a missing lord — they have little screen time to show for it. It’s hard to see where the writers stand on this — too often we see writers try to scapegoat diversity by claiming their all-white cast is for historical accuracy, but the truth is that immigraton was prevalent throughout London in the 19th century, the largest non-white communities being African and Indian. At the very least, both Edith and Lestrade’s roles could have been expanded on.
Despite the disappointing handling of race and Mycroft’s frustrating antics, Enola’s spectacular command of her narrative makes her seem as if she’s always belonged to the Sherlock Holmes franchise. It’s a film worthy of a sequel, with a lead character you’ll hope to meet again. After a year saturated with protests, election buzz, and pandemic woes, Enola Holmes speaks on the significance of voting, solidarity of the marginalized, and the pursuit of justice, unravelled in a charming, whimsical film.
