While watching the new Guy Ritchie-helmed Sherlock Holmes last week, something just didn’t quite sit right with me. The plot certainly wasn’t memorable, but it wasn’t terrible either, and Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law filled their respective roles brilliantly. It wasn’t until closer inspection that I discovered what had been nagging me:
Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams) leaving Sherlock's home after their first meeting.
Don’t see it? How about a closer look:
Is there anywhere these vile behemoths don't turn up? Answer: NO!
Now what, pray tell, is a billboard advertising for giraffes doing in 19th Century London? You might say that its part of the set up for the circus that’s rehearsing in the subsequent scene, but i think the real reason is far more frightening. You see, when period films try and recreate a certain time or place, they generally refer to old photographs for authenticity . What if the Production Designers on Holmes (unbeknownst to them) actually stumbled upon a secret meeting place of the giraffe order in a 19th Century photograph? This would certainly explain why the giraffe movement was so well organized in 19th Century Europe.
19th Century photo of a giraffe outside the Moulin Rouge, shortly before heading inside and devouring the entire crowd.
Yet another theory is equally daunting. What if the creators were just being faithful to the source material? Could Sir Arthur Conan Doyle secretly have been a giraffe sympathizer? Lets look at the facts. Aside from Sherlock Holmes, Doyle wrote one other seminal work: The Lost World.
The Lost World focuses on a lost plateau in the Amazon that’s populated with dinosaurs. Now despite scientists best and brightest guesses, no one knows what dinosaurs really looked like. However, upon comparison, it’s clear that these prehistoric beasts were ancient giraffes.
They really have changed in appearance quite little, if you ask me.
If you're wondering what happened to the dinosaurs, don't. They evolved into giraffes.
Did Conan Doyle know this and infuse it in his work? How many of our other great writers were closeted giraffe-sympathizers? Could this be the single greatest literary cover-up of ALL TIME!?