The Curious Case of Enola Holmes 3: When Franchises Lose Their Spark
There’s something oddly bittersweet about watching a franchise you once adored stumble in its third installment. Enola Holmes 3 is a prime example of this phenomenon. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is how a series that started with such promise—blending wit, historical intrigue, and a fresh take on the Holmes legacy—ends up feeling like a contractual obligation rather than a labor of love. It’s as if the filmmakers checked all the boxes (wedding? check. Malta? check. Sherlock cameo? check) without bothering to infuse the story with the soul that made the first two films so endearing.
The Wedding That Wasn’t
One thing that immediately stands out is the film’s obsession with the idea of a wedding. Enola, the fiercely independent detective, is suddenly grappling with the prospect of marrying Tewkesbury, her upper-class beau. On paper, this should be a compelling conflict—a young woman torn between her identity and societal expectations. But in execution, it feels hollow. What many people don’t realize is that Victorian-era marriage wasn’t just a personal choice; it was a societal cage, particularly for women. Yet, the film barely scratches the surface of this tension. Instead, it treats Enola’s cold feet as a plot device rather than a profound exploration of her character.
From my perspective, this is where the film loses its way. Enola’s internal struggle should have been the heart of the story, but it’s overshadowed by a convoluted kidnapping plot and a parade of returning characters. It’s as if the writers were more interested in ticking off fan service boxes than in deepening their protagonist’s arc.
Malta: The Forgotten Backdrop
The decision to set the film in Malta is intriguing—a colonial outpost with its own rich history and tensions with British rule. Yet, the film squanders this opportunity. The subplot involving Mikiel Mizzi, a Maltese man with a grudge against British imperialism, could have added layers of complexity. Instead, his character is reduced to a repetitive gag, his name turned into a punchline. This raises a deeper question: Why introduce such a politically charged setting if you’re not going to engage with it meaningfully?
What this really suggests is that the filmmakers were more interested in exotic visuals than in telling a story rooted in the cultural and historical context of Malta. It’s a missed opportunity, especially in an era where audiences crave narratives that challenge colonial narratives rather than gloss over them.
The Mystery That Wasn’t
A detective film without a compelling mystery is like a cake without flour—it simply doesn’t hold together. Enola Holmes 3 tries to juggle the kidnapping of Sherlock Holmes, shady wedding guests, and Enola’s personal dilemma, but none of these threads are given the attention they deserve. The whodunit aspect, in particular, feels phoned in. If you take a step back and think about it, the lack of suspense is almost insulting to the audience. We’re not here for a greatest-hits compilation of characters; we’re here for a story that keeps us guessing.
What makes this particularly frustrating is that the screenwriting hasn’t changed hands. Jack Thorne, who penned the first two films, is still at the helm. So, why does the writing feel so flat? In my opinion, it’s a symptom of a larger issue: the film lacks a clear vision. It’s as if the creative team was more focused on delivering a product than on crafting a story.
The Decline of Style and Substance
One of the standout features of the first two Enola Holmes films was their visual flair and fourth-wall-breaking narration. These elements gave the series its unique charm, setting it apart from other period dramas. In Enola Holmes 3, however, these touches are noticeably absent. The film feels more like a generic period piece than a continuation of the series.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how the shift in directors—from Harry Bradbeer to Phillip Barantini—seems to have stripped the film of its personality. Barantini’s style, while competent, doesn’t mesh with the tone established in the earlier films. It’s a reminder that a director’s vision is crucial to a franchise’s identity. When that vision changes, the result can feel disjointed, like a puzzle with missing pieces.
The Broader Implications
Enola Holmes 3 isn’t just a disappointing film; it’s a cautionary tale about the challenges of sustaining a franchise. In an era of streaming, where content is king, there’s immense pressure to churn out sequels, often at the expense of quality. This film feels like a victim of that mindset—a product of deadlines and contracts rather than creative passion.
What this really suggests is that franchises need more than just a beloved cast or a proven formula to succeed. They need a clear vision, a willingness to take risks, and a commitment to character development. Without these elements, even the most promising series can lose its way.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on Enola Holmes 3, I can’t help but feel a sense of missed potential. Millie Bobby Brown’s performance as Enola remains a highlight, but even her charisma can’t salvage a film that feels directionless. It’s a reminder that not every story needs a sequel, and not every sequel needs to exist.
Personally, I think the film’s greatest failure is its inability to engage with the themes it introduces. Marriage, colonialism, identity—these are rich topics that deserve more than a superficial treatment. Instead, Enola Holmes 3 settles for mediocrity, leaving us with a film that’s neither memorable nor meaningful.
If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just a review of a film; it’s a commentary on the state of storytelling in the age of streaming. As audiences, we deserve better. And as storytellers, we should demand better. Because at the end of the day, a franchise is only as strong as its weakest link—and Enola Holmes 3 is a link that threatens to break the chain.
