Title: Lestrade of Scotland Yard
Format: Feature Film Treatment
Tone: Dry wit, bureaucratic noir, gallows humor with a splash of self-important memoir
Logline:
Long dismissed as a bumbling foil to Sherlock Holmes, Inspector G. Lestrade sets the record straight in this sly, revisionist retelling of the great detective's adventures—through the eyes of the public servant who filed the actual paperwork, dodged the press, and cleaned up the mess.
OPENING MONOLOGUE (VOICEOVER):
“History remembers the violin. It forgets the chalk outline. The scarf. The bribed stable boy. The bar tab. My name is Lestrade. You’ve likely heard of Holmes. You’ve definitely heard of Holmes. But I was there too. Every bloody time.”
ACT ONE: THE SHADOW OF GENIUS
Inspector Lestrade is introduced as a wiry, pressed-suit figure with a fondness for regulation, punctuality, and bitters. He has an office cluttered with unsolved cases, half-smoked cigars, and volumes of The Police Code Annotated. He narrates Holmes’ rise to fame with gritted admiration and side-eye.
We relive iconic Holmes cases—but from outside the flat at 221B. When Holmes disappears into thought, Lestrade is the one soothing victims, corralling reporters, and persuading parliamentarians not to panic.
Lestrade’s recollections are tinged with weary bemusement:
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The Hound of the Baskervilles? “A bloody dog, a peat bog, and a man with daddy issues.”
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A Study in Scarlet? “Two murders, one Mormon, zero jurisdiction.”
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The Woman? “He called her The Woman. I called her a hostile witness.”
ACT TWO: THE CASES YOU NEVER HEARD ABOUT
Lestrade recounts “the real work”: boring murders, petty thefts, and misplaced noblemen. He solves some, botches others, always with stiff-upper-lip resilience. In one case, Holmes is notably absent—"off decoding Persian telegrams or injecting something unsanctioned." Lestrade prevails using stubborn legwork, institutional memory, and a reluctant informant named Sidney.
A recurring motif: Lestrade in the background of The Strand Magazine illustrations—blurry, sneezing, or ducking. “Watson had the pen. Doyle had the market. I had the arrest warrants.”
Lestrade’s greatest nemesis? Scotland Yard’s own bureaucracy. Reports must be double-stamped. Forensics are underfunded. Promotions are political. The Chief calls him “dependable,” which is code for “non-threatening.”
ACT THREE: THE FINAL PROBLEM (AND FINAL STRAW)
Holmes dies at Reichenbach. Or doesn’t. No one tells Lestrade. He finds out via The Times. “I sent a condolence basket. He sent back a monograph on Swiss hydrostatics.”
With Holmes gone, Lestrade briefly flourishes. He even becomes Acting Superintendent. But the shadow remains. He’s asked to speak at schools “about Holmes.” They invite him to banquets “for Holmes.” His memoir draft is rejected by five publishers. “Too procedural,” they say. “Not enough deductive fireworks.”
In the final scene, Lestrade visits a wax museum. Holmes’ figure towers, pipe and all. Lestrade leans in. “For what it’s worth...I never thought you were mad. Just lonely. And a bit of a twat.”
CLOSING SCENE:
Back in his dim office, Lestrade lifts a glass of gin and murmurs:
“To the cases no one remembers. And the men who filed the paperwork.”
THEMES & ELEMENTS:
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Unsung Labor: The tension between brilliance and drudgery.
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Institutional Comedy: A loving lampoon of Victorian-era government inefficiency.
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Unreliable Narrator: Lestrade might be exaggerating his own importance. Or not.
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Character Cameos: Watson (polite but dim), Mycroft (alarming), Mrs. Hudson (landlord from hell), and Irene Adler (who steals his wallet).
TARGET AUDIENCE:
Viewers of The Death of Stalin, The Favourite, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, and Paddington 2—if it had been directed by Armando Iannucci.
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