Two old men facing the end. Both loners, rather emotionally stunted, with loose ends to tie up before they shuffle. One does it the easy way by driving to Darwin through the good old Australian outback where, as always, opportunities for redemption await at every second roadhouse. See above. Mr Holmes, English and intellectual, does it the hard way, groping through mysteries and flashbacks to different stages of his incompletely remembered past. A clever idea to imagine Sherlock Holmes as a doddery bee-keeper still alive after World War II. Ian McKellen admirably conveys the anguish of a man who realises he was too coldly logical. But wasn’t that what we loved about Sherlock? Who would have wanted some empathetic social worker? Should fictional heroes have to grow old as we that are left grow old? What do you think?