What follows is a web of subterfuge, intrigue, and subplots that eventually reveal the scurvy hand of Professor Moriarty (James Cada). Along the way, Holmes's chum Watson (Steve Lewis) falls hard for Lillie, but she prefers the unattainable type (i.e., Holmes, whose passions run primarily for sleuthing and, we are reminded briefly, intravenous cocaine).
Katie Forgette's script is solid, and director David Mann opts to keep things light, with an emphasis on numerous one-liners. In a recurring gag, the arch Holmes steers Wilde to properly name his most famous play; the droll Johnson is hilarious throughout, clearly relishing the role of literary history's most endearing fop.
There is a danger to keeping things light, and despite Cada's dark machinations you never feel any palpable sense of danger or intense suspense. Hendrickson's cool-as-the-other-side-of-the-pillow mien works, but since Holmes never breaks a sweat, neither do we. But it's a show that succeeds on its own terms: a diversion, a confection, an entertainment. After all, as one local man about town remarked to me before the show: This in Minnesota. We don't necessarily need Ibsen in June.
Sherlock is all about fun, and supplies it in good measure.
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Jersey Lily runs through July 3. For tickets call 651.291.7005 or click here.