The Irregulars

Its coming of age by coming to terms with whatever outside forces, natural or unnatural, that would seek to exploit, subject or destroy it. And it handles that very well. The show is full of feeling — its subject, stated explicitly and often, is family and friends and the people who have your back: your Scooby Gang, your Bowery Boys, your indivisible team.

The further the season goes on, the more it sheds its procedural strengths and leans toward a more overarching story that gobbles up some of the potential to get to know its main characters better. ... Still, the pieces put in place over the course of these eight episodes provide a sturdy foundation for more exploring.

The Irregulars serves as a conduit, especially for fans of Sherlock Holmes in all his many forms, into some goosebump-inducing, jump-scare-filled mysteries—intriguing to be sure, but not for the faint of heart.

There’s nothing special about the acting, directing or writing, which foregrounds monster-of-the-week plots. That’s not a complaint, though. The reason to watch The Irregulars is because it’s fun. And it’s most fun when it leans into dark pastiche: opium dens, taxidermists, occultists staging murder scenes to resemble tarot cards.

There have been so many variations on Sherlock Holmes that the idea of another -- especially built around teenagers -- didn't provoke much enthusiasm going in. But The Irregulars proves unexpectedly fun, in what amounts to a Victorian version of "The X-Files," revising the most familiar characters while introducing a major dose of the supernatural to Baker Street.

The first episode is shaky, but the series stabilizes as it progresses. Nothing’s all that startling or original, but it all flows along until you realize you’ve watched four shows in a row and you’re wondering whether life has any meaning.

The Irregulars has a lot of good qualities and some fun ideas, but as a whole it doesn’t quite mesh. Clearly, this particular case was a tough one to crack.

A supernatural spin on Sherlock’s sidekicks that, while far from ground-breaking, is a big step up from The Baker Street Boys.

An appealing cast saves The Irregulars from being a messier show. Not all the elements come together, but watching this group gel is enjoyable enough to keep viewers engaged.

Though never less than a romp, The Irregulars is puckishly irreverent towards Holmesian lore, feeling as much inspired by 19th-century ghost stories as by Arthur Conan Doyle. But it at least tries to be different. And whatever hardcore Baker Street buffs make of it, lovers of hokum will find the time passing at a giddy clip.

The flaws point to a show that wants to be for everybody, just not anybody specific. The references here and there will appeal to the presumptively erudite, but that audience will recognize how far The Irregulars falls short of "literate." ... The performances, given through continuity-jeopardizing designer coal smudges, are mixed. ... For all of my tepidness, I thought The Irregulars did a couple of satisfying things in the last of its eight episodes.

Part of the problem is the direction here too often feels flat and shapeless, bouncing characters around a costume drama in which they don’t always look comfortable or genuine. The show is most effective when it gets the gang together and drops them in an atmospheric setting and case.

A story that’s all gruesomeness and little joy. For all that we’re told these kids are special, they confront their duty with a sense of glum obligation; there’s little of the high-stepping curiosity and possibility that is present in the best of Holmes, and that one might expect from a show in which teens attuned to voices from other worlds avert the apocalypse in Holmes’s London.