Theatre review: The Secret of Sherlock Holmes

THERE'S a disastrous war in Afghanistan and at home the rich grow richer while the poor are neglected. But no, we're not contemplating the ill-tempered Britain of today; the year is around 1880 and the shy but charming Dr Watson has just returned from service in Afghanistan to take up residence in Baker Street with Sherlock Holmes.

The friendship between the two middle-aged late-Victorian bachelors is a famously fascinating one; but few admirers of Arthur Conan Doyle's stories can ever have given that relationship such a thorough imaginative work-out as it receives in this original 1988 play for two actors by Jeremy Paul, now revived in a handsome touring production by Robin Herford. Paul's 90-minute play begins well, weaving hints and conversations from Conan Doyle's stories together with newly-imagined material to create a moving and convincing portrait of two lonely men who find comfort in each other's company, and in particular of Watson's touching concern for his troubled and brilliant friend.

In the end, both play and production lose the plot slightly; Paul deals with his final sensational revelation in a strangely static way. Herford's production responds by losing pace and kinetic energy just when it needs it most.

But the production boasts two performances to treasure from an impressive Peter Egan as Holmes, and a wonderfully subtle and touching Philip Franks as Watson; and at its best, it offers a rich exploration of some of the darkest and saddest reaches of the Victorian psyche.