LONDON, MONDAY. In a development that has sent seismic shudders through the chintz curtains of the British film industry, the star of the Enola Holmes franchise has deigned to speak of her magical sibling rapport, and the entire nation has promptly wet itself with cultural triumph. This is the same UK film industry, recall, that previously celebrated a man in a tweed suit falling off a bicycle in 'The Mousetrap' for 70 years. But now: Enola Holmes. A franchise. With vibes. And apparently, siblings.
Let us parse this triumph. The actress, speaking to a journalist who likely nodded with the solemnity of a man receiving the last rites, explained that the dynamic between Sherlock and his teenage sister is ‘really special’. Special. As in, not normal. As in, not a barely concealed turf war over who gets the last cucumber sandwich at Baker Street. The ‘sibling vibes’ are, we are told, the secret sauce of this cinematic triumph. Forget the labyrinthine plot, forget the corset-free feminist posturing, it is the sibling vibes. The same sibling vibes that made Cain and Abel a smash hit in the Old Testament. The same sibling vibes that fuelled the Brontës to write about doomed siblings who die of consumption. Sibling vibes, folks. They’re infectious.
And the industry is celebrating. Champagne corks popping from Soho to Pinewood. The British Film Institute has reportedly commissioned a statue of the two stars locked in an eternal, loving hug, cast from the melted-down Oscar of some poor sound editor. The UK film industry, a beast that survives on a diet of stiff upper lips and tax breaks from the Cayman Islands, now sees its future: a franchise. A series of films. More Enola Holmes. Because nothing says ‘post-Brexit resilience’ like an anachronistic teenage detective who breaks the fourth wall with the frequency of a gin-sodden narrator.
Let us not forget the economics. The UK film industry, like a nervous landlord, relies on franchises to pay its rent. The last time this happened, it was Harry Potter, and we got a theme park where you can vomit butterbeer. Then James Bond, who is currently a skeleton in a tuxedo. Now Enola Holmes: a young woman who does not wait for a man to solve things. She solves things. And she has sibling vibes. This is progressive. This is modern. This is the kind of news that makes the Queen’s corgis stand up and clap with their paws.
But what of the actual film making? The article gushes about the ‘celebration’ of British talent, as if the film industry were a crèche. We hear of a new generation of actors, directors, and… vibes. No mention of the catering budget or the ungodly hours spent in a trailer named ‘Damp’ while the real British weather does its best impression of a cold shower. No. Just sibling vibes. The film is a hit. The franchise is secure. The nation can sleep easy, knowing that somewhere, a teenage girl in a pinafore is solving mysteries while her emotionally repressed brother sulks in a frock coat.
One wonders, however, if the sibling vibes extend to the actual sibling of the star. Does her real brother also enjoy solving mysteries over afternoon tea? Or is it just the cinematic one, the one with the cocaine habit misremembered for family audiences? The British film industry does not care. It is drunk on its own hype, a pub landlord who has just won the lottery and is buying everyone a round of warm prosecco.
In conclusion: Enola Holmes. Sibling vibes. UK film industry celebrates. I am off to the pub. The gin is cheaper there, and nobody talks about vibes.
