Why The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother Is Still a Weirdly Brilliant Comedy

Why The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother Is Still a Weirdly Brilliant Comedy

Honestly, the 1970s were a wild time for cinema. You had the rise of the gritty New Hollywood directors on one hand, and on the other, you had this explosion of high-concept, slightly chaotic comedy that felt like it was breaking all the rules. Right in the middle of that whirlwind sat The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother. Released in 1975, it wasn’t just a random spoof; it was Gene Wilder’s directorial debut. That matters. It matters because Wilder wasn’t just looking to mock Arthur Conan Doyle. He was looking to celebrate the absurdity of being the "lesser" sibling in a family of geniuses.

Most people think of Sherlock and Mycroft. They’re the heavy hitters. But Wilder introduced us to Sigerson Holmes.

The Sigerson Holmes Problem

The premise is basically a giant "what if." What if the world’s greatest detective had a younger brother who was desperately insecure and constantly trying to prove his worth? That’s Sigerson. The name isn't just a random choice, either. True Sherlockians know that "Sigerson" was the alias Sherlock used during the period he was presumed dead after the Reichenbach Falls. Wilder took that tiny crumb of canon and baked a whole cake out of it.

He’s jealous. He’s frantic. He’s incredibly talented at fencing and singing, which are arguably less useful than deductive reasoning when you're trying to stop a master criminal.

You’ve got to appreciate the casting here. It’s basically a Young Frankenstein reunion party. You have Marty Feldman playing Sacker, a police clerk with a "photographic hearing" (a joke that still lands because Feldman’s timing is impeccable). Then you have Madeline Kahn as Jenny Hill, a music hall singer who may or may not be a damsel in distress. She’s classic Kahn—high-pitched, neurotic, and utterly magnetic.

Why the 1975 Context Matters

If you watch it today, the pacing might feel a bit off compared to a modern Marvel movie or a snarky meta-comedy. But in '75, this was a big deal. Mel Brooks had just changed the game with Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein. People wanted more. Wilder, however, had a different touch than Brooks. While Mel goes for the jugular with Every. Single. Joke. Gene was more interested in the "Victorian-ness" of it all. He wanted it to look like a real Holmes mystery.

The sets are lush. The costumes are intricate. It looks expensive.

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That contrast between the dignified aesthetic and the sight of Gene Wilder doing a choreographed dance number in a Victorian drawing room is where the magic happens. It’s a specific kind of humor. It’s slapstick, sure, but it’s anchored by a very real, very human performance from Wilder. He plays Sigerson with a sincerity that makes the comedy hit harder.

Breaking Down the Plot (Such as it Is)

The story kicks off when Sherlock (played by Douglas Wilmer) and Mycroft (Thorley Walters) decide to pass off a particularly annoying case to Sigerson. They do it mostly to get him out of their hair, but also because the case involves a stolen document and a blackmailer, Eduardo Gambetti.

Gambetti is played by Dom DeLuise. If you know anything about DeLuise, you know he doesn’t just act; he consumes the scenery. His character is an opera-obsessed villain who is constantly singing his dialogue or getting distracted by his own ego. It’s chaotic. It’s loud. It’s exactly what the movie needed to balance out Sigerson’s repressed Victorian energy.

  • Sigerson is contacted by Jenny Hill.
  • She claims to be being blackmailed.
  • Sacker (Feldman) joins the fray with his weirdly specific memory skills.
  • The trio ends up at an opera house for a finale that is pure madness.

There’s a specific scene involving a "sliding" room that is a masterclass in physical comedy. It doesn’t rely on CGI or quick cuts. It’s just actors, a tilting set, and perfect timing. It’s the kind of thing you don’t see much of anymore because it’s hard to do and even harder to film.

The Smarter Brother vs. The World

The title of the film is a bit of a lie, and that’s the joke. Sigerson isn’t actually smarter than Sherlock. He’s just more emotional. He’s more reactive. While Sherlock is a cold, calculating machine, Sigerson is a ball of nerves. He’s the "Smarter Brother" only in his own mind, or perhaps in his ability to actually connect with people—something Sherlock famously struggles with.

Leo McKern turns up as Professor Moriarty, and he is a delight. He plays Moriarty not as some untouchable mastermind, but as a man who is genuinely frustrated by the incompetence around him. It’s a grounded take on a legendary villain that fits the satirical tone perfectly.

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The Musical Element

One thing that catches modern viewers off guard is how much singing there is. Gene Wilder loved musical theater. He loved the spectacle. The "The Kangaroo Hop" sequence is a prime example. Is it necessary for the plot? Absolutely not. Does it make the movie better? A hundred percent. It captures that 1970s obsession with old-school vaudeville and music hall culture.

It’s whimsical. That’s a word we don't use enough for movies today.

Why It Still Holds Up (and Why It Doesn't)

Look, not every joke in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother is a winner. Some of the slapstick feels a bit dated, and the middle section drags if you aren’t invested in the characters. But the reason it stays in the conversation—the reason people still hunt down the Blu-ray—is the chemistry.

Wilder, Kahn, and Feldman were a comedy trifecta. They had a shorthand that you can’t manufacture. When Jenny Hill is lying to Sigerson, and he knows she’s lying, but he’s too enamored to care, you see the blueprint for so many modern romantic comedies.

  • The Visuals: Cinematography by Gerald Hirschfeld gives it a rich, moody look that rivals actual Holmes adaptations of the era.
  • The Score: John Morris (who did almost all of Mel Brooks’ films) creates a soundtrack that feels authentically Sherlockian while still nodding to the comedy.
  • The Tone: It manages to be a parody without being mean-spirited. It loves Sherlock Holmes. It just thinks he’s a bit of a pill.

Misconceptions About the Film

One major misconception is that this is a Mel Brooks movie. It isn't. Brooks has nothing to do with it. Because of the cast, it often gets lumped into that "Brooksian" category, but Wilder’s directorial voice is much softer. He’s less interested in breaking the fourth wall and more interested in the internal life of his characters.

Another mistake people make is thinking this was a flop. It actually did quite well at the box office. It proved that Gene Wilder was a bankable star and a capable director in his own right, leading to his later projects like The World's Greatest Lover and Woman in Red.

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The Legacy of Sigerson

While we’ve seen dozens of Sherlocks—from Benedict Cumberbatch to Robert Downey Jr. to Henry Cavill—we’ve never really seen another Sigerson. The idea of the "forgotten sibling" was later picked up by the Enola Holmes series, but that’s a much more serious, YA-focused take. Wilder’s version remains unique because it’s so unabashedly silly.

It tackles the theme of living in a giant's shadow. That's a universal feeling. We’ve all felt like the "Sigerson" in our professional or personal lives at some point.

If you’re going to watch it for the first time, don't expect a tight mystery. Expect a character study wrapped in a farce. Expect Madeline Kahn to steal every scene she’s in. Expect Gene Wilder to look incredibly handsome in a waistcoat while also looking like he’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

How to Appreciate the Film Today

To really get the most out of it, you should probably watch a "real" Sherlock movie from the 70s first. Something like The Seven-Per-Cent Solution. Once you have that dour, serious atmosphere in your head, Wilder’s antics become ten times funnier.

  1. Pay attention to the background details in the sets. The production design is genuinely top-tier.
  2. Watch Marty Feldman's eyes. I know, that sounds obvious, but his physical comedy is so subtle in the way he reacts to the chaos around him.
  3. Listen to the lyrics of the songs. They are cleverer than they have any right to be.

The movie ends not with a massive explosion or a grand revelation, but with a sense of personal victory for Sigerson. He doesn't need to be Sherlock. He just needs to be himself.


Actionable Next Steps for Fans

If you've just rediscovered or are newly curious about this corner of the Holmes mythos, here is how to dive deeper:

  • Track down the soundtrack: John Morris’s work on this film is underrated and perfectly captures the transition from Victorian tension to comedic release.
  • Compare the "Sigerson" alias: Read Conan Doyle’s The Adventure of the Empty House to see how the author originally used the name, then re-watch Wilder’s interpretation to see the creative leaps he took.
  • Double-feature it: Pair this film with Young Frankenstein. It provides a fascinating look at how the same core group of actors can shift tones from gothic horror parody to Victorian mystery spoof.
  • Look for the DVD/Blu-ray commentary: If you can find the version with Gene Wilder’s commentary, grab it. His insights into his directing process and his love for the source material add a whole new layer of appreciation to the film.

The film is a reminder that even the most legendary figures in literature are ripe for a little bit of deconstruction. Sometimes, the best way to honor a character like Sherlock Holmes is to look at him through the eyes of the brother who just wants him to shut up for five minutes.