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

Jeremy [Brett] was always in danger of playing some kind of grotesque if he wasn’t directly properly. I remember [Jeremy] Paul saying to him one day, “Jeremy, isn’t there going to be anything of you in this portrayal?” Brett responded well, replying, “What a good thought. You’ve pulled me up short and made me realize that I could be going too much into the area of a bizarre character.” Paul agreed, noting, “Don’t, because there is a place in this for things of your own, Jeremy – your magnetism, your ability to charm people, to deal with people – use those in playing Holmes. Don’t put them aside. Don’t think this man is a wierdo [sic] because he’s not” (David Stuart Davies).

Perched anxiously on the edge of the sofa in the sitting room of 221B Baker Street, Hilton Cubitt (Tenniel Evans) bristles at a pointed question directed at him by Sherlock Holmes (Jeremy Brett): “You have a way of putting things, Mr. Holmes,” he says. Dr. Watson (David Burke) has already apologized once for his friend’s gruff behavior, and now he can do nothing except shake his head and look back down at his notes, hoping that Holmes will not irreparably offend their client. Brett often commented on the nature of the relationship of his Holmes to his Watsons: “And so I've had wonderful Watsons – I’ve had two who kind of go [groans], ‘Holmes is doing it again.’ And, I mean, I've even had people in the studio, when I had suddenly crawled across the floor, say, ‘Not another of those’ [laughs]. And that's the lighter side.”

Holmes, will you please stop playing "Keep Away" with the cipher?

And there are a lot of both elements in Granada’s adaptation of “The Dancing Men.” Viewers successfully seek and find the physicality and vitality that Jeremy Brett so famously brought to the role, as well as a Watson that seems equal turns flabbergasted and charmed by his eccentric friend. Brett’s Holmes is at his charming, vivacious best, and Burke’s Watson is at his most endearing and earnest. The episode opens with one of Granada’s most enduring scenes: Holmes successfully outlines how he was able to deduce that Watson has declined a new investment opportunity, to which Watson responds that the deduction was an “absurdly simple” one – despite the promise Holmes had secured just moments earlier that he would not say precisely that. Holmes looks petulant, but not surprised, and Watson looks briefly contrite – until a moment later when he correctly deduces that Holmes has found himself a new case.

Granada’s 1984 adaptation of “The Dancing Men” was the second episode in their Sherlock Holmes series, airing just after their adaptation of “A Scandal in Bohemia.” It is notable that the studio chose to adapt this story very early in the production, when the original tale was, in fact, the third story in The Return of Sherlock Holmes, and according to William Baring-Gould’s chronology, took place in 1898. Despite this chronological deviation, the episode reaches out to the Canon in interesting ways. For example, there is Holmes’s mention of his monograph on secret ciphers, which Watson uncomfortably confesses he found “rather heavy going.” But the episode is at its most riveting when Brett is at his most dynamic. Audiences remember this episode’s Sherlock Holmes with a telegram between his teeth, leaping about in a vigorous demonstration of the various “Dancing Men” figures, in a desperate bid to convey their meaning to Dr. Watson. Less memorable, but no less powerful, is the scene in which Holmes and Watson receive the final telegram from Hilton Cubitt (unaware of the man’s death), revealing the partially decoded message: “ELSIE - RE – ARE TO MEET THY GO-.” Watson is still in his shirtsleeves and Holmes in his dressing gown, but in a brilliantly acted moment, the pair need only exchange a meaningful glance before rushing off in aid of their client.


Photo Credit: www.jeremybrett.info

But the death of Hilton Cubitt takes the wind out of the Detective’s over-inflated sails in a very obvious way. When asked how he could have possibly known about the crime and come down to Ridling Thorpe Manor from London so quickly, Holmes replies: “Mr. Hilton Cubitt… was my client” [emphasis mine]. There is so much effort in that pause – in admitting to his client’s death, and therefore his own perceived failure in the matter – and it weighs visibly on his face. Even the police inspector’s kind words about the pleasure of working with Holmes and his hope that he should have the Detective at his side again one day, seemingly fail to register with Holmes in any meaningful way. He gives only the merest nod to this compliment. The words do not register, and Brett’s performance manages to manifest physically for the viewer, everything that Holmes has already managed to internalize.

Photo Credit: bookishadventures.tumblr.com

Likewise, the death of his client seems to soften Sherlock Holmes, making him more susceptible to Dr. Watson’s improving influence. While Holmes is interviewing the household staff about the night of the murder, Watson whispers a mostly unheard suggestion to the Detective that he invite the elderly housekeeper to sit down. If Holmes seems slightly annoyed by the suggestion, it should be noted that he does comply. Furthermore, in a later scene, Holmes goes out of his way to inform the same housekeeper that her mistress – Mrs. Cubitt – is quite innocent, a kindness which appears to go a long way towards easing the woman’s troubles.

The episode ends with Watson attempting to decode the “Dancing Men” cipher sent by Sherlock Holmes, which had brought Abe Slane to Ridling Thorpe Manor and neatly ensnared him in Holmes’s trap. Watson stumbles for a moment before reading: “COME HERE AT ONCE.” Holmes smiles at the Doctor’s successful attempt at decoding and says, “How absurdly simple.” His words echo back to the episode’s opening scene, but this time there is no bite or petulance in the words. Only the easy understanding of a comfortable companionship, colored by the spent energy of a case concluded – if not in an entirely satisfactory way for all parties. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson ran the gamut of human interaction in Granada’s adaptation of DANC – from magnetism to charm to shear physical undertaking – but every element has a place, every point perfectly plotted.

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

“There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as in religion,” said he, leaning with his back against the shutters.  “It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner.  Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers.  All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance.  But this rose is an extra.  Its smell and its colour are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it.  It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.”

A few months ago, a friend of mine read “The Naval Treaty,” for the first time, in response to one of my earlier blog posts.  When she reached the famous “soliloquy on flowers,” she set the book down and leaned in towards me, conspiratorially.  “Was this,” she asked, “One of those moments when Holmes was…well...you know…” Her question trailed off for a moment, but then her voice dropped to a whisper.  “Was this one of those times when Holmes was…on drugs?”

“Oh, for goodness sake…no,” I replied, quite defensively.  As if the Great Detective’s honor were in question, and for some reason it was my job to defend it.  And I wasn’t even sure if my answer to her question was correct, not in the fullest sense.  How could I be?  Watson certainly did not record every single one of Holmes’s actions, and even then, who can say what the Detective got up to when the Doctor’s back was turned.  So, it was entirely possible that Holmes was on drugs (as my friend had so furtively put it) when he spoke on the goodness of flowers.  But I understood what she was really asking, what she could perceive even from reading this single tale: Sherlock Holmes is acting a little strange here, isn’t he?

Monday of this week, September 12, marked the sixteenth anniversary of the passing of Jeremy Brett, who played Sherlock Holmes in the Granada Television series from 1984-1994. The series was famous for the manner in which it remained faithful to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original stories, and exhaustively captured the minutest details in setting, costume, and performance.  Granada’s interpretation of NAVA manages to be both nuanced and theatrical, and thus successfully captures the scope of the original story.  Brett’s performance manages to mitigate some of the strangeness of Holmes’s dialogue, and as a result, the passage becomes a part of Holmes’s character, rather than a deviation from it.  As Dr. Watson says in NAVA, in regards to Holmes’s speech: “It was a new phase of his character to me, for I had never before seen him show any keen interest in natural objects.”  Likewise, David Burke’s Dr. Watson seems perplexed, and perhaps a little embarrassed by his friend’s behavior, but his expression is mostly gently accepting.  His face reads more, “Oh, he’s off again,” and less, “What is he on about?”

According David Stuart Davies, author of Starring Sherlock Holmes: A Century of the Master Detective on Screen:

“Fidelity to Doyle was always at the forefront of [Producer Michael] Cox’s and Brett’s minds.  At the start of the project, both men agreed to use the Sidney Paget drawings as ‘their image’, and in the early shows at least one shot was set up to mirror a Paget illustration.  ‘The Naval Treaty’, which contains the famous rose speech—‘What a lovely thing a rose is’—is a case in point.  The passage and the Paget drawing present Holmes as a dreamer and philosopher, and Brett reproduces the pose very effectively” (124).

This is a moss rose, apparently.  I learned something today.

Unfortunately, canonical fidelity can only go so far in a story where most of the action occurs off-page, and is related secondhand to Dr. Watson and Percy Phelps, on the next morning, by Sherlock Holmes.  Upon spying Holmes’s injured hand, Watson says: “That bandage tells of adventures…Won’t you tell us what has happened?”  The reader has no reason to believe that Holmes tells anything but the complete truth, but it is one thing to hear an account of how Holmes netted the villainous Joseph Harrison, and returned the missing treaty, and quite another to see the story acted out widely, vividly, and in full dramatic fashion.

Granada’s version of NAVA shows the audience firsthand, all that the original text relates indirectly, or perhaps only vaguely implies.  There is Holmes communing kindly with the horses in the stable, and then a shot of the Detective buried in a pile of hay as he waits for Harrison to make his move (it is quite uncomfortable, and there is a light-hearted moment as he tries to surreptitiously scratch his nose).  There is also the very peaceful scene of Holmes resting contentedly under a tree, his light-colored jacket (off-setting Holmes’s normally black, or otherwise dark-colored clothing) over his shoulders.  The sun is setting, and the landscape is bathed in a golden light, and the viewer perhaps gets a brief, rare glimpse of the Detective as he prepares for confrontation.

Photo Credit: bookishadventures.tumblr.com

That confrontation is also filmed dramatically, with the actions played out mostly in shadow on the wall of the room.  There is a bright red splash of blood as Harrison attacks Holmes, and the glint of steel as Holmes draws a blade from inside his cane.  The audience does not see the Detective strike at Harrison, or hold the blade against his neck, but the large, expressive shadows show the actions slowly, languorously; the conflict more of a choreographed dance than a ferocious battle.  The slight lilt in his voice as he says to Harrison: "Now...run," aptly shows how amusing Sherlock Holmes finds the whole thing to be.  NAVA is an early episode in the Granada series, and shows some evidence that the production team was not always quite sure how they wanted to capture Sherlock Holmes and his adventures.  The slightly theatrical fight scene is one moment.  Additionally, it is unclear at the beginning of the episode as to whether or not Watson is in residence at Baker Street.  This is also the only episode that makes reference to “Billy the Page.”

When Holmes unexpectedly parts company Dr. Watson and Percy Phelps, as the trio was supposed to be leaving Woking for London, Phelps says of Holmes: “He really is the most inscrutable fellow, Watson.”  And NAVA certainly demonstrates some of Sherlock Holmes’s more inscrutable moments.  But the Granada adaptation of this tale goes a long way towards translating some of that inscrutability for the reader, and like Watson, allowing them to see “a new phase of his character.”

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Less than one week remaining!  Share your thoughts about the Master Detective on screen, and you can win the original canon on audiobook, read by the incomparable Edward Hardwicke.  Contest is open until 11:59p.m., on Saturday, September 24.  Details here.

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