I had the pleasure of attending The Lost Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Innes Lloyd last night as part of the Melbourne Comedy festival and it was one of those intimate, slightly chaotic and genuinely enjoyable theatre experiences that remind you what live performance can feel like when it’s happening right in front of you and, occasionally, almost on top of you.
The venue, the Impro Melbourne Theatre, was comfortable but tiny and we were seated so close to the stage I could have comfortably rested my feet on it. My companion described it perfectly, it didn’t feel like watching a play so much as watching people. There’s something disarming (and slightly voyeuristic) about that level of up close and personal proximity. You can see every flicker of expression, every moment of hesitation or delight. At times it made it harder to fully drop into the world of the story, but it also created a kind of immediacy and shared experience that larger productions can’t replicate.
The premise is a clever one: three legendary “lost” Sherlock Holmes case files, mysteries Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself hinted at across his impressive written works but cases that while connected to existing Sherlock Holmes tales, are entirely improvised – which gives clever improv actors an awful lot of room to play in! From this simple starting point, the four-person cast built a series of unfolding stories, moving fluidly between characters and locations. We met the foul-mouthed Victorian street urchins (the Irregulars), various members of the landed gentry, Dr Watson, Sherlock Holmes himself plus his corpulent brother, Mycroft and bumbling, dim-witted Inspector Lestrade with a particularly memorable foot fetish. There was also a funny thread involving Cluedo that wove its way through the third story, adding another layer of playful absurdity.
What stood out most was the ensemble’s commitment to the form. Improv, at its best, is a kind of high-wire act – a balance between structure and spontaneity, where performers are constantly listening, adapting and building something together in real time. There were a few inevitable fluff-ups (it was opening night), but rather than detracting from the show, these moments often became highlights. The cast leaned into them, supported each other and turned small stumbles into shared jokes, which delighted and deepened the connection with the audience.
That willingness to embrace imperfection is part of what makes improv so engaging to watch. You’re not just seeing a finished product – you’re witnessing the process unfold. There’s a generosity in it – a sense that everyone, performers and audience alike, is in on the same experiment.
The audience appreciated the small facts and trivia woven in about Sherlock Holmes and his creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and are apparently something of an integral part of all Innes Lloyd shows. These touches added a layer of texture and gave the show a gentle nod to its literary roots, even as it gleefully departed from them.
The overall feeling of the performance was one of enthusiasm, wit and genuine enjoyment. The cast clearly put their heart and soul into it and that energy carried the show. Improv is rarely about polished perfection, but rather about play, presence and the joy of watching something take shape in the moment.
All in all, it’s a lively, inventive and warm-hearted night out – especially for anyone who appreciates the unique magic of improv and the thrill of seeing something created right before your eyes.
To book tickets to Innes Lloyd – The Lost Casebook of Sherlock Holmes, please visit https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/browse-shows/holmes-unbound-the-lost-casebook-of-sherlock-holmes.
