Currently on Twitter...

As part of an ongoing project on my Twitter feed, I'm delivering stories from the Sherlock Holmes canon in tiny installments of 140 characters or less. I recently finished up "The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire," a seasonal story in which Sherlock Holmes famously states, "This agency stands flat-footed upon the ground, and there it must remain. The world is big enough for us. No ghosts need apply."

The current story is "The Beryl Coronet," in which Watson imparts some sage advice about the treatment of madmen, and Holmes shows that even the most damning evidence does not necessarily indicate a concrete conclusion.

Check out my Twitter feed for a daily installment, although I am usually inspired to post more than once a day. And don't forget you can read through the original canon online.

“The Meaning of This Extraordinary Performance” (COPP): Granada Television’s “Silver Blaze”

“Another of Colonel Huggins' interests was riding, an enthusiasm also embraced by Jeremy. As a child, Jeremy had a pony named ‘Babs’ whom he trained to climb stairs. Jeremy actually rode Babs into the Grange, which didn't sit well with Nanny Clifford, especially when it came to the inevitable by-products of Jeremy's four-legged, unhousebroken guest. (Nanny wasn't too pleased when Jeremy rode a donkey up into his room, either – the donkey had no trouble going upstairs, but balked on the way down.) Jeremy took riding lessons and competed in gymkhanas (equestrian field days consisting of exhibitions of horsemanship and pageantry). Although Jeremy decided at an early age that he wanted to become an actor, he once said that he wished he could have been a jockey, too. (He probably enjoyed filming the Holmes story ‘Silver Blaze’.)” (Lisa Oldham, The Brettish Empire)

“My ignorance cries aloud to heaven,” wrote Sir Arthur Conan Doyle about “Silver Blaze,” a short story appearing in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes. “I read an excellent and very damaging criticism of the story in some sporting paper, written clearly by a man who did know, in which he explained the exact penalties which would come upon everyone concerned if they had acted as I described. Half would have been in jail, and the other half warned off the turf forever.” And the 1988 adaptation of “Silver Blaze” by Granada Television certainly included its own share of mistakes. The episode famously exceeded its allotted budget due to its need for an on-location shoot, and the large number of horses and human extras needed for the race scenes. The episode was preceded by Granada’s rendering of “The Devil’s Foot,” another episode that had required an expensive on-location shoot. This confluence of factors meant that by the time Granada was ready to produce their adaptation of “The Hound of the Baskervilles,” the series’ budget was already seriously compromised, and the fate of the HOUN adaptation with it (Davies 139). There are many arguable reasons as to why Granada’s HOUN failed when it had every expectation of success – not the least of these being that because of the DEVI and SILV adaptations, producer Michael Cox simply could not afford to construct the HOUN film that he had envisioned.

But its role in the failure of the HOUN adaptation does not necessarily mean that the production of SILV was not a success in its own right. The episode’s location, expensive as it must have been, is atmospheric in a way that a sound stage or even a cleverly set-dressed local field could never be.  The vast and unforgiving loneliness of the fields of Wales, Cheshire and Lancashire in the north of England are desolate and forbidding in the way that the moorlands of Dartmoor must certainly be. The stables of King’s Pyland appear as a mere dot on the landscape as Sherlock Holmes (Jeremy Brett) and Dr. Watson (Edward Hardwicke) travel in with Colonel Ross (Peter Barkworth). The neighboring stable of Backwater is miles away and likewise the odds of finding the missing Silver Blaze seem remote in the extreme. It is the expansiveness of the landscape that impresses upon the viewer the enormity of the Detective’s task. A horse lost on the sprawling moor – even a racehorse as extraordinary as Silver Blaze – will be as difficult to locate as a black cat in a coal cellar. “I expect a miracle from you, Mr. Holmes,” says Colonel Ross. The atmosphere created in the episode (of which the landscape plays no small part) is a testament to the extent of the miracle that was produced.

Photo Credit: bookishadventures.tumblr.com

And in regards to those costly horses and extras that seem to adorn every scene in SILV? The presence of more horses makes the absence of Silver Blaze even more profound and even more significant. King’s Pyland appears to be positively brimming with horses – why is the missing one so important? It is clear that none of the other horses can match Silver Blaze in strength, speed or skill – and the horse in question is not even present for the comparison! Bayard, the only other horse mentioned as being remotely in the same league as Silver Blaze, is admitted by Colonel Ross as just “intended for a pacemaker.” Indeed, Colonel Ross seems to be going to great lengths to reacquire Silver Blaze – even calling on Sherlock Holmes against his better judgment. The identity of the murderer of John Straker, Silver Blaze’s trainer, feels almost secondary to locating the missing horse. Sherlock Holmes even goes so far as to chide Colonel Ross for his neglect. He asks Colonel Ross, “[The location of Silver Blaze] is a minor point, of course, compared with the question of who killed John Straker?”

As for the extra cast members – what is a dramatic reveal without a crowd of people to witness it? When Holmes theatrically reveals the identity of Straker’s killer (who was Silver Blaze, of course, acting in self-defense), it is in the Winner’s Circle of the Wessex Cup, surrounded by a large crowd of well-wishers. As the realization dawns on Colonel Ross that he has been horribly deceived by a man that he trusted implicitly, the slowly encroaching crowd makes his error in judgment seem palpable. For a moment the man seems surrounded by his mistakes – rather than by onlookers – unable to escape them. But perhaps even more simply: what is a story about a racehorse without other horses to race against, and people to watch the race?

Photo Credit: bookishadventures.tumblr.com

The episode also lends the necessary weight and grandeur to one of the most vaunted and recognizable canonical lines. But before Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock Holmes ever speaks a word about the infamous “dog in the nighttime” (the one who did nothing, of course), there is a scene in which he enters the missing racehorse’s stable and is subjected to the snarling and vicious barks of the resident canine. There is a pause, a moment of utter stillness, marked by nothing more than the subtle upward curve of Brett’s mouth. This is not the frenetic silence of a man frozen in terror by the unexpected onslaught of an unruly dog, hoping to avoid injury. This is a moment of intensity and gravitas, as understood by a man for whom the moment of knowing supersedes all other factors and distractions.

There is quite a lot that is tangible about Granada’s adaptation of SILV – moments that are so significant and weighted that the viewer can seemingly reach out and touch them. Holmes reaching out to gently touch the hand of a distraught maid as she recounts finding John Staker’s corpse. Holmes reaching barehanded into the muddy landscape to retrieve a hidden nail. Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson, and Inspector Gregory (Malcom Storry) passing around a cataract knife as if it were some precious artifact. The Great Detective hanging his cane on the door of the stable with a significant look and gesture, just before he washes the black paint from a horse, only to reveal the animal beneath as the missing Silver Blaze. Holmes grinning and snickering as he collects his winnings after the Wessex Cup race (one of those moments of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s “ignorance” that mentioned earlier). Finally, Holmes reaching out to stop an annoying ringing dinner bell with his hand, as he recounts the solution of the case to Colonel Ross and Dr. Watson.

Photo Credit: bookishadventures.tumblr.com

The viewers of Granada’s Sherlock Holmes series can wistfully speculate what would have become of their adaptation of HOUN had budgetary mistakes not been made in the production of DEVIL and SILV. Even Jeremy Brett was known of having wished that they could go back and re-film that episode (Davies 144). But speculation is a fruitless endeavor, changing nothing. And it distracts from the fact the Granada’s SILV episode is outstanding and artfully constructed in its own right, with unforgettable moments that linger after the episode ends – which leave an indelible impression on the screen.

oOo

Sources:

• Stuart Davies, David. Starring Sherlock Holmes: A Century of the Master Detective on Screen (January 2006).

“Better Holmes & Gardens” now has its own Facebook page.  Join by “Liking” the page here, and receive all the latest updates, news, and Sherlockian tidbits.

Currently on Twitter...

As part of an ongoing project on my Twitter feed, I'm delivering stories from the Sherlock Holmes canon in tiny installments of 140 characters or less. I recently finished up "The Bruce-Partington Plans," which features an appearance by Mycroft Holmes and is one of only two stories from the Canon to feature the elder Holmes brother (he is also mentioned indirectly in two others). In this story, Sherlock Holmes somewhat reveals the true nature of his brother's work for and as the British Government.

The current story is "The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire," a seasonal story in which Sherlock Holmes famously states, "This agency stands flat-footed upon the ground, and there it must remain. The world is big enough for us. No ghosts need apply."

Check out my Twitter feed for a daily installment, although I am usually inspired to post more than once a day. And don't forget you can read through the original canon online.

Some Thoughts on Character: The Recurrent American

“Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your company,” said Sherlock Holmes. “It is always a joy to meet an American, Mr. Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the folly of a monarch and the blundering of a minister in far-gone years will not prevent our children from being some day citizens of the same world-wide country under a flag which shall be a quartering of the Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes.” (“The Noble Bachelor”)

Sherlock Holmes found Americans really fascinating. Upon greeting Mr. Francis Moulton in “The Noble Bachelor,” Holmes proceeds to treat the young man like some sort of fantastic oddity – like he has just encountered a white tiger or a new species of honeybee in his sitting room. It’s as if Holmes wants to analyze Moulton, to extract the young American’s secrets through scientific inquiry and research, to study him intensely under a high-powered microscope. Indeed, it is not so difficult to imagine Holmes turning to Watson and saying, “Oh, please let me keep him! I need more information for my index and he’ll make just the perfect addition. I promise to feed him, water him, and walk him every day!” 


Fine, Lord St. Simon. You can leave.
I don't want to share my new American friends anyway.

Francis Moulton, and his wife Hatty, are far from the only Americans to appear in the Canon. The appearances of colonials span from clients, informants, criminals, even some detectives, and everything in between. There seems to be a role for an American in every frame and facet of the original stories. Even The Woman, Irene Adler “of dubious and questionable memory,” was an American – Holmes’s index indicates that she was born in New Jersey, of all places, in 1858. In “The Adventure of the Red Circle,” readers are introduced to Mr. Leverton, of the Pinkerton Agency, who is assisting Inspector Gregson. The American detective is described rather agreeably as “a quiet, businesslike young man, with a clean-shaven, hatchet face, [that] flushed up at the words of commendation.” Sherlock Holmes is quite pleased to meet Leverton, who has made something of a name for himself as a detective in America. For his part, Holmes has heard of the man’s work, and appears to find it exceptional.

Not all Americans in the Canon are depicted in such glowing terms, of course. While “The Dancing Men” features the young American woman Elsie Cubitt (née Patrick) whose devotion to her husband causes her to attempt to take her own life after his murder, it also features the villainous Abe Slane – “the most dangerous crook in Chicago.” It is Slane who murders Hilton Cubitt, but only after he torments poor Elsie with a series of haunting coded messages, culminating in the rather nightmarish missive: “ELSIE - RE – ARE TO MEET THY GO-.” And while Slane contends that “…there was never a man in this world loved a woman more than I loved [Elsie],” needless to say, Slane’s monstrous behavior more than eclipses any love that he can profess to feel.

I told you I wanted to know more about Chicago.
I wasn't kidding.

Likewise the Americans featured in A Study in Scarlet and The Valley of Fear do not all come off as shining beacons of virtue. In “The Country of Saints,” the second part of STUD, the reader is introduced to a less-than-righteous clan of Mormons, who exhibit a murderous intent on the acquisition of persons and property at all costs. VALL features a secret order, the Ancient Order of Freemen, filled with seemingly every type of unsavory individual, whose criminal deeds appear to run the gamut of almost every type of illegal activity. The actions of the Order influence how the entire town functions. Of course, the villainous Americans of these stories find their more honorable counterparts. In STUD, the American Jefferson Hope has been on a decades-long quest to avenge the death of his beloved Lucy Ferrier, dying only just after succeeding in his pursuit. In VALL, the Freeman John McMurdo is revealed to be Birdy Edwards, another Pinkerton detective, and the secret society is swiftly brought to justice for their crimes. More interestingly, these particular passages actually take the reader to America, rather than bringing the American to England and Baker Street. If Americans are some sort of exotic curiosity in the Canon, then the curiosities in these stories are being presented in their natural habit, interacting with others of their own species.

Chronologically speaking, Sherlock Holmes’s American experiences culminate with “His Last Bow.” The story finds Holmes having just spent two years undercover as an Irish-American named “Altamont.” However, if the Sidney Paget’s illustration is to be believed, the extent of his disguise involved growing an unsightly goatee and adopting an American accent. Anyway, Holmes’s American journey took him on a rather circuitous route, as he says he has been from Chicago to Buffalo, and those are just the places he mentions. But the reader is left behind on this journey, and does not get to experience America with Sherlock Holmes. And, it would seem, his excursion has left him weary of America, if not Americans. As he says to Watson, "Tomorrow [the goatee] will be but a dreadful memory. With my hair cut and a few other superficial changes I shall no doubt reappear at Claridge's tomorrow as I was before this American stunt - I beg your pardon, Watson; my well of English seems to be permanently defiled - before this American job came my way” (LAST).

Well, that is some very American facial hair indeed.
I can see why Von Bork was fooled. I think.

William Gillette, the man who brought Sherlock Holmes so famously to life on the stage, was an American, born in Connecticut in 1853. When Conan Doyle and Gillette first met, the actor surprised Conan Doyle by emerging onto the train platform, kitted out in a full Sherlock Holmes ensemble, complete with magnifying glass. After recovering from his shock, Conan Doyle laughed, completely charmed, and Gillette and Conan Doyle became lifelong friends. What an oddity Conan Doyle must have thought Gillette was upon that first meeting, how strange and otherworldly. But that didn’t stop him from entrusting the man with the care of his most famous – if not beloved – creation. Similarly, Sherlock Holmes may have found Mr. Francis Moulton a neat little marvel upon their first meeting – something on par with a new type of tobacco ash or particularly fascinating chemical equation – but that peculiar fascination didn’t stop Holmes from entrusting himself to the national identity of Francis Moulton, Birdy Edwards, and even Abe Slane. The recurring presence of Americans and American themes in the Canon is striking in its frequency, but their peculiarities have purpose, even if it is occasionally disagreeable.

oOo

“Better Holmes & Gardens” now has its own Facebook page.  Join by “Liking” the page here, and receive all the latest updates, news, and Sherlockian tidbits.

Currently on Twitter...

As part of an ongoing project on my Twitter feed, I'm delivering stories from the Sherlock Holmes canon in tiny installments of 140 characters or less. I recently finished up "The Engineer's Thumb," which is one of only two cases that Dr. Watson's was able to bring to Sherlock Holmes's attention (the other being the unpublished case of Colonel Warburton's madness).

The current story is "The Bruce-Partington Plans," which features an appearance by Mycroft Holmes and is one of only two stories from the Canon to feature the elder Holmes brother (he is also mentioned indirectly in two others). In this story, Sherlock Holmes somewhat reveals the true nature of his brother's work for and as the British Government.

Check out my Twitter feed for a daily installment, although I am usually inspired to post more than once a day. And don't forget you can read through the original canon online.

BOOK REVIEW: “The Consulting Detective Trilogy Part I: University”

Darlene A. Cypser; Publisher: Foolscap & Quill (May 2012)

[Note: This novel is a direct sequel to Darlene Cypser’s The Crack in the Lens, which was published in December 2010. You can read my review of it here. Spoilers for The Crack in the Lens potentially lay ahead, although I always endeavor to avoid them.]

oOo

“Perhaps it would help if they understood what drove him to it,” Sherlock suggested.

“Do you believe that anyone can truly comprehend what goes through a person’s mind at such times?” Dr Mackenzie asked.

“Not if they haven’t been there. But perhaps they can understand the stresses that drove him over the edge of reason.”

It sometimes seems that Sherlock Holmes’s greatest asset is time. His character is at once both timeless and demonstrative of the values and mores of a particular age. It is “always 1895” as the Sherlockians say, but a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, who texts and uses the internet, has found himself at the center of a breathtaking upwelling in popularity – and a likewise resurgence of interest in the original Great Detective from whom he was built. Sherlock Holmes always knew how to make use of time. The Canon is full of instances in which the Detective demonstrates an almost transcendental patience in puzzling out a case (TWIS) or waiting for a quarry, but he also knew how important even one second could be in capturing a suspect, or how disastrous one ill-timed movement could be in the course of a chemical experiment (NAVA).

And at the onset of The Consulting Detective Trilogy Part I: University, by Darlene A. Cypser, it would seem that all Sherlock Holmes has going for him is time. The events of The Crack in the Lens have devastated him. Physically, he is weak, unable (or unwilling) to leave his room for extended periods of time, consuming food is necessary but a struggle, and even doing something as simple as climbing stairs is a trial. Emotionally, he is far worse off. Even the smallest triggers seem to send him into stress-induced trances. He cannot bear to set eyes on and compulsively avoids most female members of the household staff. The eldest Holmes brother, Sherrinford, is expecting his first child and the timing of the child’s birth (or perhaps the child’s mere existence) fills Sherlock with anger and guilt. He cannot even look at the snow, and keeps his curtains constantly drawn.

But he is determined to move on, move away. Sherlock’s first experience with time in the novel is how little of it he is willing to waste in getting into university and away from Mycroft Manor. He finds himself enrolled at Sidney Sussex College in Cambridge with what almost seems like lightening-speed, perhaps a testament to Sherlock’s determination to prove that he is well. Unfortunately, he has drastically underestimated how much time his recovery would take, and the first snowfall of the season finds Sherlock hugely unprepared, with devastating consequences. Later, he will make another gross miscalculation as the plot of the novel convergences with that of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s “The ‘Gloria Scott’”. The encounter is unquestionably illuminating. As the elder Trevor states:

“I don’t know how you manage this, Mr. Holmes, but it seems to me that all the detectives of fact and of fancy would be children in your hands. That’s your line of life, sir, and you may take the word of a man who has seen something of the world.”

But Holmes’s offhand remarks have devastating consequences for Victor Trevor and his father, and certainly there are lasting results for Holmes himself. He learns a lot from his encounter with the Trevors, but more than anything, he learns what he still does not know, and how much time it will take to learn it. Cypser has artfully constructed a Sherlock Holmes who is utterly wrought, his foundation undermined, and all his components stripped away. The Great Detective is a man under construction in this novel; his entire framework has been brought to earth and he is trying to build again from scratch – with all the dangers that entails. The journey is long, and arduous, but Cypser’s young Holmes is certainly a man with the mettle for it.

Sherlock Holmes finds himself flanked on his journey by two companions: the young Jonathan Beckwith, who readers may remember from The Crack in the Lens, has joined Sherlock at university as a personal servant; and Dr. George Mackenzie, who is introduced into Sherlock Holmes’s life when it seems to be at its absolute worst. In The Crack in the Lens, Cypser introduced her readers to Sherrinford Holmes, the eldest of the three Holmes brothers, who seemed a forerunner for Dr. John Watson – earnest and compassionate, a companion for Sherlock Holmes when no one else seemed willing or able to fill the role. Now, Sherrinford is married, with young children, and Sherlock is living away from the manor. It would be unfair and inaccurate to somehow classify every single one of Sherlock Holmes’s pre-Watson companions as a precursor for the Good Doctor, but Jonathan’s and Dr. Mackenzie’s presence prove crucial to Sherlock’s development, nonetheless. From Mackenzie, Sherlock Holmes first learns the necessity of time and patience in the application of knowledge and diligent study (both within and without). From Jonathan, he learns the importance of a companion who remains devoted over any length of time, and through any circumstance.

The transformation of Cypser’s young Sherlock of The Crack in the Lens into the maturing Sherlock Holmes of The Consulting Detective is both subtle and brilliant. By the end of Cypser’s second novel, the reader stands in full knowledge and awareness of the man before them, and you wonder how you missed it, so understated was his development. Where previously there was only the merest hint of the man that would become the Great Detective, Sherlock Holmes now stands tall, assembled, if not yet fully-formed. There are miles and years of distance between the “Sherlock” of Mycroft Manor and “Sherlock Holmes” of Baker Street, and while he is not quite yet the man of Doyle’s stories, the readers recognize him. Moreover they know him, and they are glad to see him again. Cypser’s novel is only the first in a trilogy that will take the Great Detective to Baker Street, but right now his path is clear, even if the road is not. And for now, Sherlock Holmes’s greatest asset is still time.

oOo

The Consulting Detective Trilogy Part I: University is available in paperback and e-book formats from Amazon and Barnes & Noble.  A full list of booksellers is available here.  More information about the novel and its author is available on its website, follow the novel on Facebook, or Darlene Cypser on Twitter.

 “Better Holmes & Gardens” now has its own Facebook page.  Join by “Liking” the page here, and receive all the latest updates, news, and Sherlockian tidbits.

Sherlock Holmes on Screen: “The House of Fear” (1945)

“Viewed today however, one is inescapably reminded of a ‘reality TV’ format: seven diverse housemates are nominated one-by-one for permanent eviction until just one is left to scoop a prize of exactly £100,000. So if The House of Fear fails as both a Sherlock Holmes film and a properly satisfying murder-mystery, its premise is at least enduring.” (Alan Barnes, 92)

Occasionally, I think that Nigel Bruce gets a bad rap. Once in a great while, his performance as Dr. John Watson touches a soft place in my heart. I find myself susceptible to moments like his rendition of “Loch Lomond” in Pursuit to Algiers (and from the same film, his recounting of a recent adventure with Sherlock Holmes using a celery stalk as the Detective and a hunk of cheese as himself); or his utterly crestfallen expression in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes when the Detective snappishly refers to his companion as “an incorrigible bungler” (though he is soothed by a gentle pat on the shoulder). For all his foolishness and sometimes blatant stupidity, there is warmth and openness in Bruce’s interpretation, with a certain guilelessness that goes a long way towards explaining how he has managed Holmes’s peculiarities for so long – perhaps it is simply because he sees no malice in the Detective’s actions, no animosity, and cannot bring himself to harbor any resentment or bitterness towards his friend.

But in the 1945 film, The House of Fear, such moments of softness and affectation are notably absent. Despite one rather astute and crucial observation, and one poignant moment between the two friends at the conclusion of the film (Holmes does seem rather touchingly grateful for his friend’s survival), Bruce’s Watson is at his vaudevillian worst. It’s hard to find any redemptive qualities in a scene in which Watson – unearthing a grave while Holmes stands about smoking a pipe – finds himself embroiled in an Abbott and Costello-style argument with an owl. Holmes’s comment of “Having a nice little chat, Watson?” is the only one of his many needle-like barbs throughout the film that is utterly deserved. According to Alan Barnes:

“Despite furnishing Holmes with the one last vital piece of evidence, Nigel Bruce’s Watson does not fare well, being a source of irritation to the detective (Holmes loudly informs the entire household that Watson snores ‘like a pig’) and the butt of a semi-jokey five minute sequence in which, guarding downstairs on his own, he flaps hither and thither while attempting to track down the source of a number of strange noises. (He shoots a suit of armour and a cat before asserting, ‘They’ve got me completely surrounded!’)” (94).

To be fair, Rathbone’s Holmes does not come across at his very best in this film either. As Barnes points out, the Detective makes a rather pointed, public and personal joke at the Doctor’s expense: “You snored like a pig!” Later, Watson is attacked in the sitting room while Holmes investigates upstairs. Watson screams rather ardently for his friend, to which Holmes responds by descending the stairs at a pace that could best be described as a “saunter,” or perhaps a leisurely stroll. There is no urgency in his manner, while Watson, for all appearances, has just escaped a brutal death. Holmes’s most animated moment comes only when his own life is in danger – as well as the Doctor’s – at the hands of a falling boulder.

However, Basil Rathbone might have been as much to blame as the film’s screenwriters for the Detective’s apathetic characterization in this film. According to David Stuart Davies: “It was becoming noticeable that Rathbone was beginning to tire of the role of Sherlock Holmes. After nine features and numerous radio broadcasts, the character was so familiar to him that he felt there was nothing fresh he could bring to the part. The reviewer in the New York Times called his performance in this movie ‘as pedestrian as a cop on patrol’” (59). There is a tiredness to Rathbone’s performance in this picture, as if he is trying to summon energy and enthusiasm for the role that he simply does not have. In response, Bruce’s Watson and Dennis Hoey’s Inspector Lestrade (inexplicably present in Scotland in his role as a police inspector, despite being rather clearly out of his jurisdiction) appear to move ever further into the role of caricature, seemingly becoming mere parodies of their roles. Lestrade, for example, loudly and brazenly takes credit for the capture of Professor Moriarty.

To its credit, The House of Fear has much going for it in the way of atmosphere – an eerie, gothic manor seated on top of a high cliff in Scotland, a morose and sinister housekeeper who acts as the harbinger of ill-tidings and death, and a strange men’s club shrouded in secrecy and strange ritual. Even the manners in which the “Good Comrades” are murdered demonstrate a distinct variety and creativity. They are gruesome and evocative, summoning an array of horrifying images with the simple phrase: “No man goes whole to his grave.” The House of Fear’s link to the Canon story “The Five Orange Pips” is tenuous at best – the only reference to the source material being the orange pips each Good Comrade receives prior to his death. But the film does manage to invoke the violence of the original story, the grim and sometimes coldhearted nature of humanity.

There are elements of The House of Fear that are reminiscent of the earlier Rathbone/Bruce picture, Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943). As Davies says, “…Sherlock Holmes Faces Death brings Holmes back to the world of creepy old houses, wild windy nights and mysterious unsolved murders. The mood is Victorian Gothic but the presence of the Second World War is still in evidence…” (50). Unfortunately, The House of Fear demonstrates little to none of the strength of its earlier counterpart. Perhaps, this is demonstrative of how much of a Sherlock Holmes film’s success is derived from the strength and vitality of the actor in the title role, and how much the film suffers if he finds himself indifferent.

oOo

“Better Holmes & Gardens” now has its own Facebook page. Join by “Liking” the page here, and receive all the latest updates, news, and Sherlockian tidbits.

Sources:

• Barnes, Alan. Sherlock Holmes on Screen. (September 2011).

• Stuart Davies, David. Starring Sherlock Holmes: A Century of the Master Detective on Screen (January 2006).