Period Pieces

TWO SHERLOCK PERIOD PIECES AT THE CARNEGIE

The Adventure of Sherlock Holmes

By TOM SOTER

from The Columbia Spectator
March 10, 1977

For a man whom George Bernard Shaw once called "a drug addict without a. single admirable trait," 'Sherlock Holmes has done amazingly well for himself. Besides his many radio, television and stage adventures, he's also appeared in about 130 films. Considering the fact that his creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, only wrote sixty Holmes mysteries, with the majority of those being short stories, that's quite a remarkable figure.

What's more remarkable, however, is that of all these movies; Precious few of them have actually hit upon the formula that made Doyle's tales so enduring: that odd mixture ()f believably unusual characters, intriguingly constructed pUzzles, and hansom-c~bbled Victorian melodrama. The silent films made between 1903 and 1928 were more adventure stories than'anything else, while the many talking ones since then have. removed much of the adventure and replaced it with rather far-fetched deduction.

In addition, there has been a noteworthy lack of originality in what the movie producers have chosen to dramatize. The Hound of the Baskervilles, for example, has been done nine times, the first in 1947 and the last in 1972. As Holmes himself once remarked, "Everything comes in circles. The old wheel. turns and the same spoke comes up. It has all been done before and will be again."

This Monday, one can see what he means when the Carnegie Hall Cinema presents one of those many versions of The Hound. This one, starring Basil Rathbone arid Nigel Bruce as Holmes and his friend Dr. 'Watson, was tremendously successful when it was first released in 1939. Seeing it today, however,'one wonders what all the fuss was about. It is a badly done rendition of Sir Arthur's original story which had involved a curse upon the life of young Sir Henry Baskerville whose uncle had been killed by a phantom hound. The tale naturally included foggy moors, threatening letters, and the prescribed red herrings. Unfortunately, the way things are staged in the film, the letters are more ludicrous than menacing, the red herrings obvious as just that, and the moors un·mistakable as studio sets.

The problem, then, is that the believability so necessary for a story like The Hound to work is woefully absent. In the book, fear was created by underplaying the supernatural elements just enough to make them frightening; things were ambiguous without being obscure. In the movie, though, obscurity is/more often than not the rule of thumb. In the climactic scene, f()r instance, when Holmes and Watson race across the moor to save Sir Henry, the fog-shrouded lens and extensive use of long-shots cause more confusion than tension. And the absence of, background music is definitely not a plus.

Even more . disturbing than all this, however, is the abundant critical praise. The Hound garnered during its recent rerelease, with comments ranging from "not bad" to "the definitive version." It's hardly that, and viewers would do better with the underrated Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, not coincidentally also on the Carnegie's doubie bill.

One of the first scenes in that film marvelous1y sets the tone for the rest of the story. "You have a magnificent brain, Moriarty," Sherlock Holmes intones coolly to his old foe, "I admire it. I admire it so much I'd like to present it pickled inalcohol to the London Medical Society."

"It would make an interesting exhibit," replies the Professor. unconcernedly. This kind of stylish hatred is what made Doyle's. stories so fun, and what adds tremendously to one's enjoyment of Adventures: a classy cat-and-mouse game between the detective and his arch-enemy.

Rathbone and Bruce

Rathbone's Holmes has never been better: impatient, incisive, and insolently friendly in the best Conan Doyle tradition ("Watson," he says kindly, "you really are the most incorrigible burglar."). The good doctor, too, is not as imbecilic as he was later to. become, and does have some nice comic turns. And in George Zucco's Moriarty we have a superb rendition of an often badly overplayed villain: controlled, coolly menacing. and, wholly believable; a man who operates on a completely different moral system and who is all the more threatening because of that ("You have murdered a flower," he says angrily to a negligent servant, "to think, !that for merely murdering a man I was incarcerated for six whole weeks ... But for this ... ") Outside of the performance, the story's pace is exhilarating, especially when compared to the leaden Hound .. And the climax is superb: melodramatic, exciting and great fun ("Quick, Watson!" cries Holmes in sudden alarm, "we're wasting time! ").

Why, then, is Adventures so often ignored today, while The Hound gets most of the praise? My guess is that childhood memories being what they are, and the rest of the Rathbone series being what it was· (a deteriorating set of B-movies involving Holmes in WWII) , most critics like to remember the first film more fondly than it deserves. Which is too bad, since contrary to the much-stated rule, the sequel is, in this case, better than the original.