Here’s a more one-to-one example for you:
William Gillette’s 1899 play Sherlock Holmes versus 2020’s Enola Holmes.
How William Gillette got permission, only six years after the end of the (then) final story, to write his play: asked Arthur Conan Doyle nicely, since he intended to do something that might be out of character for Holmes. ACD’s response was the now-famous (and should be more famous) “you may marry him, or kill him, or do any thing you like with him.”
Although the first copyright law in England (the Statute of Anne) was passed in 1710, copyright-as-we-know-it wouldn’t exist in England for another few years after Gillette’s play. Yes, I’m saying the first Sherlock Holmes stories were technically not under copyright as such when they were first printed, which is why stories like “My Evening With Sherlock Holmes” were completely and unambiguously legal and published by respected magazines, and the famous “Sherlock Holmes Baffled” mutoscope performance of 1901/1903 was so titled with no involvement from ACD whatsoever. I should note that as far as I’m aware, ACD had no rights to any royalties from Gillette’s play. They may have had a financial agreement between them, but this would have been at Gillette’s discretion. Technically he didn’t even have to ask Conan Doyle’s permission, he just felt like it would be the classy thing to do.
How the writers of Enola Holmes got permission to write their movie: used public domain stories and promptly got sued by the estate for “copyright infringement.”
It was easier to be not-ACD and write a Sherlock Holmes story in 1893 than it was to be not-ACD and write a Sherlock Holmes story in 1993.
If that doesn’t say it all, I don’t know what does.