There's something gloriously satisfying about a story that throws off the weight of literary canon and asks, "But what if the smug genius got it wrong?" Moriarty: The Devil's Game, does just that, and in doing so, delivers one of the most enjoyably subversive takes on the Sherlock Holmes universe in recent memory.
The series, a sonic noir set in a fog-thick vision of Victorian London, is beautifully cast and tightly written but it's the reversal at its heart that really sings. In this retelling, we follow the supposed villain of Conan Doyle's creation, Professor James Moriarty, not as a cackling mastermind, but as something altogether more human. It's a choice that not only repositions the myth but gleefully pokes at its overpolished shrine.
Holmes himself (no spoilers, don't worry) is rendered with enough of his traditional traits, the clipped superiority, the endless deductive mansplaining, the moral aloofness, that one's long-held suspicions about his character finally feel vindicated. For those of us who've always found the man more insufferable than insightful, it's delicious.
This isn't just "Holmes but darker" or "Moriarty but misunderstood." It's a rethink, and one that doesn't feel like a gimmick. The writing is crisp without veering into the try-hard, the pace is tight, and the sound design does exactly what it should: immerses without distracting. Dominic Monaghan (yes, him) gives Moriarty a brooding energy that carries the thing with surprising depth.
It's not perfect, a couple of scenes wobble under the weight of their own exposition, but the overall impression is of something lovingly made, cleverly reimagined, and just cynical enough.
If you've ever wanted to see the world from the perspective of the so-called villain, and if you've ever quietly wished Holmes would, just once, shut up - then Moriarty: The Devil's Game is worth your ears.
And let's face it, stories are always more fun when the devil gets his say.
