A Study in Terror and The Detective

A Study in Terror (1965).  Murder By Decree (1979) may be the best known pairing of Sherlock Holmes and Jack the Ripper--but it wasn't the first. That distinction belongs to the mostly forgotten A Study in Terror. Produced with the cooperation of the Arthur Conan Doyle estate, A Study in Terror boasts an original screenplay that finds Holmes investigating a series of brutal murders in London's Whitehall area. His interest is peaked when he receives a case of surgical instruments that is missing the scalpel, the type of instrument that Scotland Yard believes was used in the murders. Holmes quickly discovers that the case belonged to Michael Osborne, the older son of Lord Carfax. Osborne vanished two years earlier, but could he have resurfaced as Jack the Ripper? Made on a modest budget, A Study in Terror recreates Victorian London convincingly and features a splendid performance by John Neville as the Baker Street detective. In fact, I'd rate Neville's portrayal as the fourth best, topped only by Jeremy Brett, Basil Rathbone, and Peter Cushing. Donald Huston makes an acceptable Dr. Watson, though he gushes over Holmes's deductions a bit too much. While the plot holds interest and moves swiftly, the fiery climax rushes to a conventional conclusion. Mostly disappointingly, the killer's motivation feels like an afterthought. Still, the primary reason to watch A Study in Terror is to see John Neville's Holmes. Fans of 1950s teen horror films might recognize one of the producers. Yes, that's the Herman Cohen, who made unforgettable drive-in classics such as I Was a Teenage Werewolf and I Was a Teenage Frankenstein. 

The Detective (1968).  Joe Leland (Frank Sinatra) is a no-nonsense NYC police detective who stands up defiantly to meddling politicians, cop corruption, and his superiors. His investigations into the brutal murder of a gay socialite and the mysterious suicide of an accountant take their toll on Joe--professionally and personally. His marriage is crumbling, in part because his wife Karen (Lee Remick) copes with her emotional insecurities by sleeping with other men. Used to bottling up his own emotions, the middle-aged Joe can't connect fully with Karen except on a physical level. Made in the turbulent late 1960s, The Detective is an ambitious, but shaky attempt to merge a Chandleresque crime drama with a character study. The former works better than the latter, with the flashbacks detailing Joe and Karen's relationship interspersed with Joe's investigations. It's a clunky structure that distracts the viewer from the best part of the movie. It also hampers Lee Remick's performance by relegating most of her scenes to poorly-written vignettes with Sinatra. The screenplay saddles some fine supporting actors with stereotyped characters: Ralph Meeker as a cop on the take, Robert Duvall as a bigoted detective, and Al Freeman, Jr. as a young Black officer who suddenly transforms from a naïve newcomer to a ruthless, overly ambitious detective. As a mystery, The Detective works well, though it's certainly not a surprise when Leland learns his two cases are connected. The NYC locations and Jack Klugman, in a small but pivotal part, are nice bonuses. Ultimately, The Detective doesn't compare favorably with Sinatra's best 1960s films (The Manchurian Candidate, Von Ryan's Express), but it is a worth a watch. You can view it for free on Hoopla if your local public library subscribes to that streaming service.

Basil of Baker Street is The Great Mouse Detective

Basil, the great mouse detective.

The 1980s was a rocky decade for Disney animated films. Several animators, led by Don Bluth, left the studio to create their own movies (e.g., The Secret of NIMH). Disney's much anticipated adaptation of Lloyd Alexander's The Black Cauldron--the studio's first PG-rated animated film--fizzled with critics and the public. Even The Fox and the Hound (1981) and Oliver & Company (1988) were considered disappointments, though each made a profit. Fortunately, Disney ended the '80s on a high note when The Little Mermaid (1989) redefined the animated musical and won two Oscars.

Yet, there was another memorable 1980s Disney film that seems almost forgotten today: The Great Mouse Detective (1986). Based Eve Titus's book series Basil of Baker Street, it features a mouse detective modeled closely after Sherlock Holmes. In fact, Basil lives in Victorian London at 221½ B Baker Street--underneath Sherlock's famous quarters. In lieu of Moriarty, Basil is obsessed with capturing another diabolical genius: Professor Rattigan.

Professor Rattigan, voiced by Vincent Price.

The fiendish rat has kidnapped an inventive toymaker called Flaversham as part of his plan to become "the supreme ruler of Mousedom." When Flaversham refuses to help Rattigan, the professor threatens to imprison the toymaker's daughter Olivia. What he doesn't know is that Olivia has sought the aid of Basil of Baker Street.

While the screenplay lacks the sparkle and wit of Disney classics like 101 Dalmatians (1961), it's still an entertaining yarn filled with colorful characters and clever details. Anyone who has watched a Basil Rathbone Holmes movie will take delight in the scene in which Basil and Dr. Dawson (the Watson equivalent) use disguises to infiltrate a seedy dive by the docks. However, the film's highlight is the climatic confrontation between Basil and Rattigan, which takes place inside and outside Big Ben during a thunderstorm. I think Sir Arthur Conan Doyle would have been pleased!

Miss Kitty performing her number.

The outstanding voice cast features Barrie Ingham as Basil, Vincent Price as Rattigan, Alan Young as Flaversham, and singer Melissa Manchester as Miss Kitty. Price has a grand time as the bigger-than-life villain and even gets to sing in the film's biggest musical number "The World's Greatest Criminal Mind" (co-written by Henry Mancini). Although The Great Mouse Detective is not a musical, it includes two songs. The best of those is "Let Me Be Good to You," an amusing dance hall pastiche written and performed with style by Manchester.

Given Disney's propensity to revisit its animated classics, it's surprising that the studio never made a direct-to-video sequel or a TV series for the Disney Channel. I would have watched the further adventures of Basil of Baker and Dr. Dawson.

Cult Movie Theatre: They Might Be Giants

George C. Scott as Holmes, sort of.

When Blevins Playfair receives a blackmail note demanding $20,000, he decides to commit his wealthy brother Justin to a psychiatric institution. It solves two problems: Blevins can gain power of attorney and access to his brother's fortune and Justin (George C. Scott) is delusional--he believes he's Sherlock Holmes.

Justin makes an impressive Holmes, not only looking the part but acting it, right down to some impressive displays of deductive reasoning. Thus, psychiatrist Mildred Watson (Joanne Woodward) insists on a thorough evaluation before signing off on the institution's paperwork. For his part, Justin/Holmes has no time to dally with a psychiatrist--after all, he's chasing his arch-nemesis, Professor Moriarty. But then, he realizes that Mildred is Dr. Watson and it's obvious that she must become his partner and chronicle his exploits. Mildred quickly gets caught up in Justin's fantasy world and, before long, the game is afoot as the detecting duo scour New York City for clues to Moriarty's location.

Joanne Woodward as Dr. Watson.

Based on James Goldman's stage play, They Might Be Giants is an entertaining lark for most of its running time. It's also a showcase for the mesmerizing Scott, who effortlessly transitions back and forth from the confused Justin to the supremely confident Holmes. In the film's most touching scene, a tired Holmes reads the biography of Justin Playfair, a once influential judge who retired from the bench and lost his wife the previous year (thus explaining why Justin became Holmes).

One could argue that Joanne Woodward has the more difficult part. She must convince the audience that lonely, intelligent Mildred Watson could get swept up in Justin's delusional mystery. Even if parts of the mystery display a weird logic, her actions and sudden confession of love for Justin defy belief. Perhaps, that's the point. Heaven knows, there are many films from the late 1960s and early 1970s that throw logic out the window and I'm quite fond of some of them (e.g., I'll Never Forget What's 'isname).

Jack Gilford as Wilbur.

In addition to Scott's excellent performance, They Might Be Giants provides Jack Gilford with arguably his best film role. He plays Wilbur, a librarian who has known Justin from childhood, and wishes he could immerse himself in another identity. He would choose the Scarlet Pimpernel, fop by day and hero by night. (Gilford's recitation of "They seek him here..." is a little gem.)

As it builds to what appears to be a whimsical climax, with Holmes and Watson joined in a march by all the quirky people they've met, They Might Be Giants suddenly changes tone. It closes on an odd note, leaving one to wonder if the couple have lost their sanity forever or simply found contentment in their complete fantasy. (Although there are different running times for the film, I have not found any indication that the final scene was tampered with in any way.)

That's not a reason to dismiss They Might Be Giants. Even if its grand ideas don't ultimately come together, you shouldn't miss a chance to see George C. Scott play Sherlock Holmes.

Holmes on a Train in "Terror By Night"

Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes.

There are better entries in the Basil Rathbone-Nigel Bruce Sherlock Holmes film series. In fact, when I ranked all twelve films from best to worst in 2009, Terror By Night came in #6--and, after viewing it again recently, that still feels right. But it has one thing the other SH films don't have...and that's a train. I've always had a weakness for movies set aboard trains.

Terror By Night opens with Holmes and Watson about to board the Scotch Express for business, not pleasure. Holmes has agreed to guard a 423-karat diamond known as the Star of Rhodesia. Legend has it that the stone resulted in "violent and sudden death" to all who possessed it. The current owner, Lady Margaret, is headed to Edinburgh with her son Roland.

The train has barely left the station when Roland is found dead in his compartment and the Star of Rhodesia is missing. Although there are no signs of foul play, Holmes remains convinced that Roland was murdered. (By the way, when Lady Margaret asks about the whereabouts of her son, Holmes simply nods towards the corpse on the floor...with Roland's eyes creepily open. It may be the detective's most callous act in the entire series, though he does apologize promptly.)

Dennis Hoey as Inspector Lestrade, Bruce, and Rathbone.

There is no shortage of suspects among the passengers, which include: a mathematician and his wife, a mysterious young woman, Lady Margaret, and even Dr. Watson's friend Major Duncan-Bleek. Could one of them be in league with the notorious criminal Colonel Sebastian Moran?

Renee Godfrey as a suspect.

It's not hard to guess the identity of the villain, but there's a nice little twist at the climax and some bright dialogue along the way. Roy William Neill, who directed all but one of Universal's Holmes films, keeps the plot speeding along. The entire film clocks in at under an hour. He also injects some much-needed action with a near-fatal clash between Holmes and the killer.

Sadly, Neill would only make two more films before dying of a heart attack in 1946. His last film, the noir Black Angel, would turn out to be one of his best.

As for Rathbone and Bruce, they would team up as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's famous duo for one last film: Dressed to Kill (1946). It's only a so-so entry, but that doesn't diminish one of the most entertaining "B" mystery film series of the 1940s.

When Sherlock Holmes Was Young

Nicholas Rowe as a teenage Sherlock.

Holmes purists may quibble that Young Sherlock Holmes (1985) is an insult to the classic mysteries of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. After all, Holmes and Watson certainly didn’t meet as schoolboys, as this movie implies. But let those hardcore fans quibble all they want. Young Sherlock Homes is a fanciful “What if?” movie which--though it doesn't always succeed--might have pleased Doyle.

The gripping opening scene sets the tone for the rest of the lively mystery. A Victorian gentleman is shot with a blow dart just before entering a restaurant. When he starts to eat his favorite roasted poultry, his dinner suddenly comes to life and attacks him. As he fends off the snapping bird, we see what the other restaurant patrons see: a raving lunatic screaming and flinging his arms at the air. When the same gentleman's coat tries to strangle him later that evening, he jumps out a two-story window to his death. Thus, the mystery is afoot.

Watson finds a key clue.

Behind this cloak of crime is the story of teenagers Holmes and Watson, who meet when the bookish Watson transfers to a London boarding school. When Watson first encounters him, Holmes is frustrated that he has not yet mastered the violin--after all, he’s been playing it for three days. Considered egotistical by his peers and teachers, Holmes is bored until he, his girlfriend Elizabeth, and Watson become involved in murder.

Despite its intriguing opening, the mystery falters halfway through the film. The lack of viable suspects makes the villain obvious. And Holmes doesn't even have to use his famous deductive reasoning to solve the puzzle. One of the would-be victims tells him all the details. There are also a few too many special effects and a Steven Spielberg-inspired flying sequence (he was an executive producer).

The fact that the movie still entertains is a tribute to director Barry Levinson and his fine young cast. Levinson (“The Natural”) has lovingly created an atmospheric, snowy Victorian London. Filled with fleeting shadows and eccentric characters, the film unfolds like an amber-tinted postcard from the past. It’s rare when a film can be enjoyed for its sheer visual elegance.

As Holmes, Nicholas Rowe delivers a crisp, slightly aloof performance that is perfectly balanced by Alan Cox’s charming, awkward Watson. There is a strong rapport between the two that keeps the movie moving even when the plot is not.

Screenwriter Chris Columbus has fun explaining the origins of such famous Holmesian objects as the deerstalker cap, the briar pipe, and the Inverness coat. It's intriguing to note several similarities to the Harry Potter books which J.K. Rowling would write 12 years later. The first films, of course, were directed by Chris Columbus.

Be sure to stick around for the post-credits sequence.

Billy Wilder and Jack the Ripper Take on Sherlock Holmes

The 1970s featured two revisionist takes on Sherlock Holmes: The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes was released in 1970 and Murder By Decree appeared at the end of the decade. While neither film is wholly successful, they each boast a lot of star power either in front of or behind the camera. They also overcome convoluted conspiracy plots and miscast actors to justify a couple of hours of your time.

Murder By Decree opens atmospherically with the sounds of London--a dog barking, a baby crying, distant bells--accompanying a heavy fog. A quick scene at a local theatre, in which the Prince of Wales is jeered by the crowd, indicates a tumultuous political climate. Shortly thereafter, we experience the third of a recent series of Whitechapel murders through the eyes of the killer. 

Before you can say "Elementary, my dear Watson," the Baker Street sleuth (Christopher Plummer) and his companion (James Mason) are delving into a labyrinthine plot that involves Jack the Ripper, 33rd-degree members of the Secret Order of the Free Masons, a possible psychic, and a "decadent monarchy."

Holmes in disguise.

With an assist from screenwriter John Hopkins, Plummer transforms Holmes into an athletic hero who uses a weighted scarf as a weapon (sort of like a bola). He also makes jokes at Watson's expense and sheds tears at human injustice. It's a far cry from the more conventional Sherlocks portrayed by Basil Rathbone, Peter Cushing, and Jeremy Brett. There's certainly an audience for different Holmes interpretations, as shown by the success of Robert Downey, Jr.'s films, but one's appreciation for Murder By Decree will hinge largely on whether you accept Plummer as Holmes.

Holmes as action hero?

Plotwise, Murder By Decree squanders an interesting premise by layering it with too many complexities. It's also not the first film to pit Holmes against Jack the Ripper. A Study in Terror, a tidy 1965 mystery, holds that distinction (and also features a fine John Neville performance as Holmes). Interestingly, Frank Finlay played Inspector Lestrade in both A Study in Terror and  Murder By Decree. The 2001 Jack the Ripper film From Hell, although based on a graphic novel, shares some plot similarities with Murder By Decree (though there's nary a Sherlock Holmes to be found).

There's no Ripper to be found in Billy Wilder's ambitious The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes. It opens 50 years after Watson's death when a new manuscript is discovered in a sealed box in a bank. The document contains a letter from Watson, in which he states that in addition to his published Holmes stories, "there were other adventures which, for reasons of discretion, I have decided to withhold from the public until this much later date." 

Robert Stephens as Holmes.

Wilder and distributor United Artists originally intended The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes to be a three-hour "road show" attraction. However, such motion picture "events" were being phased out (one problem was that lengthy films often generated less profit because they could only be shown twice daily...in the days before multiplexes). As a result, the film was edited down to 125 minutes by removing two stories: the 15-minute "The Dreadful Business of the Naked Honeymooners" and the half-hour "The Curious Case of the Upside Down Room."

The two tales that remain are a mixed bag. The first is a slightly amusing, albeit silly, story of a ballerina offering to pay Holmes for a week of lovemaking so that she can conceive a child genius. She points out that Holmes was not her first choice, but there were problems with Tolstoy, Tchaikovsky, and Nietzsche. Not wishing to offend, Holmes implies that he and Watson are more than just friends--an insinuation that Watson fears will destroy his reputation.

The second tale starts with the appearance of a mysterious amnesiac woman and spirals into a mystery that involves a missing mining engineer, peculiar monks, midgets, the Loch Ness monster, and a conspiracy headed by none other than Sherlock's older brother Mycroft (Christopher Lee). Its outcome is a letdown, but there are delights along the way, such as the stunning Scottish scenery.

Blakely as Dr. Watson.

In fact, the same can be said of The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes in general. Wilder never quite finds the right tone, but Robert Stephens is a delightful Holmes (unfortunately, Colin Blakely's overexcited Watson is a liability). Wilder and his frequent screenwriting partner I.A.L. Diamond have a grand time debunking some of Holmes' famous traits. For example, Sherlock wears the deerstalker hat solely because the public expects to see him in it. Holmes blames Watson's magazine stories, while Watson claims it was The Strand's illustrator that added the now-famous head apparel.

The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes is a first-rate production, from the period sets to Miklos Rozsa's lovely score. Still, it was neither a popular nor critical success at the time of its release, though critics have grown more appreciative over the years. Billy Wilder would go on to direct four more films, the last one being Buddy Buddy in 1981.

The 5 Best "B" Movie Detectives

When it comes to celluloid detectives, some of the best ones hail from "B" film series of the 1930s and 1940s. Shown theatrically before a "major motion picture," some of these series gradually established their own fan bases. Their popularity grew significantly when they appeared frequently on local television stations in the 1960s and 1970s. My picks for five best "B' movie detectives:

1. Sherlock Holmes.  Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce first appeared as Holmes & Watson in the 20th Century-Fox "A" productions of The Hound of the Baskervilles and The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (both 1939). Three years years later, Universal launched a low-budget series of twelve Holmes films, set in contemporary London, with the same stars. Despite a handful of lackluster entries (e.g., Pursuit to Algiers), the overall quality is above-average, with the standouts being the clever, atmospheric Scarlet Claw (1944) and 1945's compelling The House of Fear. Fans are also fond of the train-set Terror By Night and the creepy Pearl of Death. Few directors got more out of a low production budget than Roy William Neill.

Toler (far right) as Charlie Chan.

2. Charlie Chan. Earl Derr Bigger's Chinese-American detective has been portrayed by several actors, but the most notable ones are Warner Oland and Sidney Toler. Both actors had long runs as Chan, with Oland making 15 films and Toler headlining 22. All of Oland films and Toler's first 11 were produced by 20th Century-Fox. When the studio decided to end the series, Toler boughts the film rights and the new (less costly) Chan mysteries were released by Monogram. The Chan films are admittedly inconsistent, with the comic relief provided by Charlie's No. 1 or No. 2 sons sometimes overpowering the mystery plots. Still, the series produced its share of snappy little gems like Charlie Chan at the Opera and Castle in the Desert. Plus, Oland and Toler were both delightful, especially when delivering wise sayings like: "Small things sometimes tell large story."

Conway (left) and Sanders (right)
both played The Falcon.

3. The Falcon. Gay Lawrence, better known as The Falcon, was a gentleman detective in the same vein as The Saint. In fact, just to make matters confusing, George Sanders portrayed both characters in 1941. Sanders' Falcon films are modestly entertaining, with the most famous being The Falcon Takes Over, which is based on the Philip Marlowe novel Farewell, My Lovely. By 1942, Sanders was ready for bigger screen roles--though RKO wanted to keep The Falcon series going. So, in The Falcon's Brother, Gay Lawrence is killed and his brother Tom Lawrence takes over--the nifty part is that Tom Lawrence was played by Tom Conway, George Sanders' real-life brother. I've always liked Conway, a solid performer who got stuck in "B" films. He elevates most of his Falcon movies, though (again) sometimes the comic relief is overpowering. That's not the case with The Falcon and the Co-eds. Ignore the lame title--it's one of the finest "B" mysteries ever with a great coastal setting, a sharp plot, and comic relief provided delightfully by three young girls from a boarding school.

4. The Crime Doctor. Warner Baxter was one of the biggest stars of the late 1920s and 1930, winning an Oscar for In Old Arizona and headlining classics such as 42nd Street. Yet, by 1943, he was relegated to "B" films like the Crime Doctor series. Based on a hit radio show, 1943's Crime Doctor was about an amnesia victim who becomes a leading criminal psychologist--only to recover his memory and learn that he was a criminal. It's outlandish, but Baxter makes it work and he's solid throughout the series. Most of the entries are quite satisfying, with the best being The Millerson Case. It has Dr. Ordway vacationing in the Blue Ridge Mountains when a typhoid epidemic causes the town to be quarantined...and then a murder is committed.

5. The Lone Wolf. Louis Joseph Vance introduced Michael Lanyard--a jewel thief who became a private detective--to readers in 1914. Vance's book provided popular material for the movies and there were several Lone Wolf films between 1917 and 1939, including The Lone Wolf Returns with Melvyn Douglas in the title role. In the late 1930s, Columbia Pictures launched a "B" detective series with The Lone Wolf Spy Hunt, starring Warren William as Lanyard. Like Baxter, Williams was on the downside of a very successful screen career. He brought class and charm to the role, with very able assistance from the always amusing Eric Blore as his valet, beginning with the second entry, The Lone Wolf Strikes.

Honorable Mentions:  Peter Lorre as Mr. Moto and Chester Morris as Boston Blackie.

The 5 Best Sidekicks in a Film/TV Series

Sidekicks in a series can be an essential ingredient to a film or TV show. The best sidekicks will enhance the story and characters, whereas the not-so-good ones are fruitless, empty vessels just taking up space. Still others, through no fault of their own, may wind up stealing the spotlight from the person(s) intended as the star. The following is a list of sidekicks that my wife and I assembled. These so-called sidekicks are people (or furry things) with whom we wouldn’t mind sharing adventures -- which should explain the absence of Robin from the TV series, Batman, who can stay at Wayne Manor with Bruce... not that I’m verifying that Bruce Wayne is Batman...

1. Chewbacca (the Star Wars series) Chewbacca, affectionately dubbed Chewie, belongs to a species known as Wookiee, from the planet Kashyyyk. He was the sidekick to Han Solo in the Star Wars original trilogy (1977-83). Chewie’s presence is an amazing union of ferocity and geniality. He’s both lethal and lovable. It’s perfectly reasonable that stormtroopers might flee at the sight of Chewbecca, but as he’s one of the good guys, it would be difficult as part of the Rebel Alliance to not monopolize time on the battlefield giving Chewie sneak-attack hugs. Chewbacca’s euphonic and beloved growls are actually a language, Wookieespeak (or, more formally, Shyriiwook). Speakers of Galactic Basic (a common tongue in the Star Wars world and similar to English) can understand Wookieespeak but, due to anatomical distinction, cannot necessarily speak it, in the same way that Chewie comprehends Basic but cannot physically articulate the language. This is how Han Solo and Chewbacca can have arguments in their native tongues. The 7’3” Peter Mayhew portrayed Chewie in the original trilogy and appeared in Episode III: Revenge of the Sith and the infamous The Star Wars Holiday Special broadcast on TV in 1978. He also voiced Chewie for the animated series, The Clone Wars.
2. Daigoro (the Lone Wolf and Cub series) The Lone Wolf and Cub films (1972-74), based on a popular manga, detail the lives of Ogami Itto and his son, Daigoro. After his wife is killed and he is disgraced, Ogami offers Daigoro the choice of a sword or a ball: follow his father and wander as an assassin, or be with his mother. Daigoro, who is merely a year old, crawls to the sword. Ogami chauffeurs Daigoro (around three years of age when the series begins) in a wooden carriage that’s armed to the teeth. In an unforgettable scene from Baby Cart at the River Styx (the second of the series and a fan favorite), father and son are halted by a line of would-be assassins. Ogami pulls weapons from the cart and pushes it, with Daigoro, towards the samurai. Daigoro’s tiny foot triggers blades that protrude from the cart’s wheels and slice through a couple of ankles. In the same film, the little boy tends to his injured father by bringing him water and food. In one of the most endearing moments, Daigoro takes rice cakes from the foot of a Buddha statue, and drapes his vest over the Buddha as an exchange. Akihiro Tomikawa plays young Daigoro in all six films, made within three years. Shogun Assassin (1980), sometimes listed as a seventh entry, is actually a composite of mostly the second film and some of the first, and dubbed in English. Sequels to said movie were likewise reedits.

3. Dr. John Watson (Sherlock Holmes) One of the earliest examples of a sidekick, Dr. Watson almost acted as a sounding board for the brilliant mind of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s literary sleuth, Sherlock Holmes. But Watson was more than a simple assistant. He was also a moral compass for Holmes, an intelligent man of action, and a friend to the socially awkward detective. Nigel Bruce played Watson, with Basil Rathbone as Holmes, in the popular series of films beginning in 1939 with The Hound of the Baskervilles. Some fans, however, did not appreciate the interpretation, as Watson was little more than comic relief. Frequent Hammer Films star Andre Morell fared much better in his portrayal of the doctor in Hammer’s 1959 Baskervilles adaptation, with Peter Cushing as the detective. Audiences were likewise receptive to David Burke in the first British TV series featuring the renowned Jeremy Brett, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1984-85). Burke stayed true to the nature of Watson’s literary roots, while Edward Hardwicke appeased fans with a winsome, affable Watson in three additional series that ran to the mid-90s, for a total of 28 episodes (and five of those feature length).
4. Fozzie Bear (The Muppets) Fozzie is, for all intents and purposes, a walking, talking teddy bear. He’s fuzzy and squeezable, and much like a teddy bear always by a child’s side (or an adult’s side, for those who weren’t so cruel as to neglect a faithful and cuddly companion), he often accompanies Kermit the Frog. They regularly appeared with one another on the TV series, The Muppet Show (1976-81), but perhaps their greatest pairing was in The Muppet Movie (1979), when Kermit, on his way to Hollywood, is picked up by Fozzie Bear. This leads to Fozzie’s now classic line: “A bear in his natural habitat -- a Studebaker!” Fozzie was a stand-up comedian, and though the Muppet audience was generally unappreciative, his honest nature and cheerful confidence put a smile on the faces of those watching at home. Created by Jim Henson, father of the Muppets, Fozzie was originally voiced by Frank Oz, who also voiced fellow Muppets, Miss Piggy and Animal, Cookie Monster in Sesame Street and Yoda in the Star Wars films. Oz moved on to directing humans, and Eric Jacobson is now the voice of Fozzie, as well as Miss Piggy and Animal.

5. Kato (the 1966-67 The Green Hornet) Before his rise to stardom in Hong Kong, Bruce Lee earned a starring role in a U.S. TV show, The Green Hornet. In the show, wealthy American newspaper publisher Britt Reid decides to become a vigilante for justice, and, like most people with money and power, has someone else do the majority of the work. Kato, a skilled mechanic, was Reid’s driver and, in essence, his muscle. The series only lasted a season, but Lee’s portrayal of Kato was so popular in Hong Kong that The Green Hornet was aired as The Kato Show. Retrospectively, of course, one can clearly see Lee’s charisma shine through the supporting character, even with Kato in disguise. But Hong Kong saw it first, and Lee made a trio of hugely successful films in said country. He only achieved fame in America with Enter the Dragon (1973), which had been released after his untimely death. With Lee a household name, episodes were edited together and released as feature films, The Green Hornet (1974) and Fury of the Dragon (1976), both movies focusing on Lee’s fight sequences. In the serials, The Green Hornet (1940) and The Green Hornet Strikes Again! (1941), Kato was portrayed by Keye Luke, who also played Charlie Chan’s “Number One Son” in numerous films, dubbed Mr. Han’s (Kien Shih) voice in Enter the Dragon, was a regular on the TV series, Kung Fu (Lee was considered for the lead but lost to David Carradine), and was Mr. Wong in the Gremlins films (1984/1990), unfortunately selling a Mogwai to irresponsible owners. Taiwanese musician/actor Jay Chou was Kato in the Green Hornet feature film in 2011.

Honorable mention: Q (the James Bond series) -- Though he was rarely in the field with 007 (1989’s Licence to Kill is an exception), Q (Demond Llewelyn, who was in nearly every Bond film) provided the MI6 agent with all of his gadgets and weapons. Perpetually exasperated by Bond, Q’s blasé attitude towards the spy is always a welcome sight.; KITT (Knight Rider) -- KITT (Knight Industries Two Thousand), a Pontiac Firebird Trans Am with artificial intelligence, was so capable that one can’t help but wonder why Michael Knight (David Hasselhoff) was even necessary. Had KITT any arms or desire to bed women, Michael may very well have been unemployed.

A Heaping Helping of Sherlock Holmes

TCM kicks off a Christmas Day 2009 Sherlock Holmes marathon at 8:00 pm EST--on the same day that Sherlock Holmes, starring Robert Downey Jr. as the famous detective, debuts in theaters nationwide. To prepare for this outbreak of Sherlockian sleuthing, you may want to check out my earlier post Universal's Sherlock Holmes Series with Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce--A Top to Bottom Review.

Finally, every Holmes fan has a favorite film interpretator of the 221B Baker Street master detective. I've love to hear if you're a Rathbone afficionado, favor some of the one-time portrayers (e.g., Christopher Plummer in Murder By Decree), or go for a lesser-known one like John Nelville in the cult fave A Study in Terror. By the way, I like all of the movies just mentioned. But my two favorites are:

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959)

Throughout the late 1960s and early 1970s, I tried in vain in see the Basil Rathbone version of The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939). Every time it was listed in the newspaper, I’d tune in eagerly—only to see Hammer Films’ 1959 version starring Peter Cushing. I later learned that copyright issues prevented the Rathbone film from airing for many years. When it finally popped up on TV (on The CBS Late Movie, of all places), I was somewhat disappointed. Though Basil was entertaining as always, his Hound was surprisingly inferior to the 1959 version. Indeed, the Hammer Hound has improved with age, like a fine wine or, more appropriately, a glass of sherry (the vicar in the film has a fondness for it).

The opening scene is a spirited retelling of the legend of the Hound of the Baskervilles, with David Oxley shining as the utterly despicable Sir Hugo Baskerville. After the hound disposes of Sir Hugo, we learn that Dr. Mortimer is telling the tale to Holmes and Watson at 221B Baker Street. It's a shrewd way to introduce the backstory and inject some action in what it is basically a low-key mystery.

The rest of the plot follows Conan Doyle’s novel fairly faithfully. Indeed, the minor variations in the adaptation make the story more interesting. The climax is a bit disappointing. The vicious hound, when finally glimpsed, turns out to be a Great Dane with a leather mask on its head. When it attacks one of the villains, you can see the actor grab the dog as it starts to run by him.

Still, The Hound of the Baskervilles is a highly enjoyable affair. Peter Cushing makes a superb Holmes, all nervous energy as if his brain can barely contain his superior intellect. His interpretation is every bit as good as Basil Rathbone’s more acclaimed one. Andre Morrell plays Dr. Watson straight, instead of providing comic relief (as Nigel Bruce, whom I still love, did in the Rathbone films). His Watson is intelligent, affable, and observant—very much like the character in Conan Doyle’s novels and stories.

Director Terence Fisher was on a roll, having previously helmed Hammer’s Dracula (1958) and Curse of Frankenstein (1957). As he did in those films, Fisher brings a colorful atmosphere and brisk pacing to the Holmes mystery. He also carefully masks the film’s modest budget. Listen closely and you can hear James Bernard’s music from Dracula being recycled. Also, the night scenes look very much like twilight or late afternoon (of course, even Hitchcock had trouble making night scenes look dark enough in color).

Ironically, Christopher Lee (who played Sir Henry Baskerville) would take his turn as the Great Detective in the mediocre German film Sherlock Holmes and the Deadly Necklace (1962). Cushing played Holmes again in a short-lived British TV series. Sadly, Hammer could never secure the rights to make additional Holmes films with Cushing and Morrell. (TCM will show it Dec 26, 2:45 am EST.)

The Scarlet Claw (1944)

Basil Rathbone spent much of his acting career stereotyped as a dastardly villain in films such Captain Blood, The Adventures of Robin Hood, and The Mark of Zorro. He played those parts so often that he spoofed himself—delightfully—in The Court Jester. Nigel Bruce fared no better, being typecast as a bumbling buffoon in The Charge of the Light Brigade, Rebecca, and many others. These two supporting players unexpectedly found themselves top-billed when, in 1939, Twentieth Century-Fox cast them as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson in The Hound of the Baskervilles.

With his sharp features and abrupt delivery, Rathbone made an ideal Holmes—his interpretation is still considered the standard by which all others are measured. Although Bruce’s Watson is nothing like the cultured physician in the detective stories, the actor remains immensely likable and provides memorable comic relief. In addition to The Hound, Rathbone and Bruce made a well-received sequel, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Then, unexpectedly, Twentieth Century-Fox decided to end its Sherlock Holmes series.

In 1942, Universal convinced Rathbone and Bruce to reprise their roles in a series of 12 Holmes pictures. These movies featured smaller budgets than the Fox films and, most significantly, they updated the action to modern day. In addition to his arch nemesis Professor Moriarty, Holmes got to battle the Nazis (Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror) and dabble in espionage (Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon). The best of the Universal series—indeed one of the best of all Holmes films—is The Scarlet Claw.

All but the opening scene takes place in La Morte Rouge, a small Canadian village surrounded by marshes and enshrouded in fog. Holmes and Watson go there in response to a letter from a dead woman (well, she wrote it while she was alive). The detective duo soon discover a trail of corpses and a glowing phantom that runs across the marshes at night. Oh, yes, and the murderer turns out to be a master of disguises, too.

There is much to like in The Scarlet Claw. Although never shown, the murders are appropriately grisly. In one scene, Holmes displays the five-pronged garden tool used to rip open the victims’ throats. The “ghastly apparition” on the marshes hints of a supernatural explanation. The settings, particularly the murderer’s riverside house, are impressive for a backlot film. And, above all, director/co-writer Roy William Neill compresses the mystery into a well-paced, compact 74 minutes. Like all the Holmes films produced during World War II, The Scarlet Claw ends with a patriotic wartime ode, this one a tribute to Canada.

The other Holmes films in the Universal series pale in comparison to The Scarlet Claw. Still, several of them are enjoyable little mysteries, in particular Sherlock Holmes Faces Death, House of Fear, and The Pearl of Death. (TCM will show it Dec 26, 12:15 pm EST.)

Universal's Sherlock Holmes Series with Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce--A Top to Bottom Review

Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce made their debuts as Holmes and Watson in two 1939 films produced by 20th Century-Fox, The Hound of the Baskervilles and The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Set in Victorian times, these classy mysteries featured high-end production values befitting of literature’s most famous sleuth. Alas, Fox chose not to pursue a series and that opened the door for Universal, which approached Rathbone with a novel concept: Why not update Holmes to present-day and pit him against modern villains?

From 1942 through 1946, Universal produced the 12 “modern day” Sherlock Holmes films. These were “B” films with running times under 70 minutes. Director Roy William Neill, who specialized in getting the most out of his small budgets, helmed all the films except the first (Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror). Mary Gordon appeared as the 221B Baker Street housekeeper Mrs. Hudson in most of the entries and Dennis Hoey made several appearances as a fairly inept version of Inspector Lestrade. Here are my ranking of all 12 series entries from best to worst.

1. The Scarlet Claw (1944) – One of the best of all Sherlock Holmes films, this smart little mystery finds Holmes and Watson chasing a “phantom” over the marshes of Canada. The murderer, a former thespian, is a master of disguises—which sets the stage for several tense sequences. Bruce adds just the right amount of humor in this one and Neill keeps the atmospheric proceedings moving at a snappy pace. This is easily my favorite Rathbone Holmes film, to include the more expensive Fox pictures.

2. Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943) – Arthur Conan Doyle’s story “The Musgrave Ritual” serves as the inspiration for this clever entry that finds Watson working at a country mansion being used as a convalescent home for soldiers. There are ancestral rituals, would-be ghosts, and—of course—murder. Best of all, there’s a giant chessboard on the floor that provides the key to the mystery. Milburn Stone (Doc on Gunsmoke) co-stars; look quickly for a young Peter Lawford.

3. The Pearl of Death (1944) – This entertaining adaptation of Conan Doyle’s “The Six Napoleons” features Rondo Hatton as the series’ most distinctive villain: The Oxton Creeper, who kills his victims by breaking their backs at the third vertebrae. Actually, the Creeper is a supporting player as Holmes and Watson investigate the theft of the Borgia Pearl. But Hatton does make a pretty scary killer and director Neill creates a chilling atmosphere.

4. House of Fear (1945) – At the Drearcliff estate in western Scotland, seven middle-aged men have formed a club called “The Good Comrades.” With no next of kin, each club member agrees to make his fellow members his beneficiaries in case of death…then two of them die after each receives an envelope with five orange seeds. The resolution may be a little disappointing, but this compact adaptation of Conan Doyles’s “The Adventures of the Five Orange Pips” is a bit of a pip itself.

5. The Spider Woman (1944) – The always reliable Gale Sondergaard elevates this entry as the sinister villainess behind the “pajama suicides.” Her verbal sparring with Rathbone accounts for several delightful scenes. It’s too bad she didn’t return for an encore (although she did star in The Spider Woman Strikes Back, as a different character in a non-Holmes film).

6. Terror By Night (1946) – A young man and his mother hire Holmes to accompany them on a train to Edinburgh and protect the Star of Rhodesia diamond. The villain turns out to be Colonel Sebastian Moran, whom Holmes describes as Professor Moriarty’s “most sinister, ruthless, and diabolically clever henchman.” It’s a solid entry, buoyed by the train setting and Watson’s chance to play the hero for once.

7. Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1943) – Professor Moriarty makes his first appearance in the series in the guise of Lionel Atwill. Unfortunately, he’s not in much of the film. As a result, the film’s entertainment value rests mostly on Rathbone’s enjoyable disguises and an overly-complex cipher (the only part retained from the short story "The Adventure of the Dancing Men").

8. The Woman in Green (1945) – With Henry Daniell as über-villain Moriarity, this should have been an instant classic. Instead, it’s only a sporadically interesting yarn about a surprisingly grisly blackmail scheme that involves the murder and mutilation of random young women.

9. Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror (1942) – Holmes battles the Nazis in the first of the Universal series. It’s an interesting premise: A Nazi radio broadcast predicts disasters—such as a train derailment—which then take place. Unfortunately, the film’s execution is pedestrian and its propaganda overdone. This film, like the others shot during World War II, ends with a stirring Rathbone speech about freedom and the defeat of evil.

10. Sherlock Holmes in Washington (1943) – Holmes and Watson journey to the States to retrieve a valuable document stolen by enemy spies. Fortunately, this is the last film to pit Holmes against the Nazis. It’s a rather ho-hum affair, except for George Zucco as Holmes’s nemesis. Zucco portrayed Moriarity memorably in Fox’s The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

11. Dressed to Kill (1946) – The theft of an inexpensive music box intrigues Holmes enough to pursue a case that leads to a planned crime of far greater proportions. Except for Patricia Morison as the villain, there’s not much to recommend in this stale entry. It was Rathbone’s last appearance as Holmes on the big screen.

12. Pursuit to Algiers – Holmes and Watson accept the mission to protect a young royal heir who is returning from London to his (fictional) home of Rovenia. Most of the action takes place aboard a stagey ocean liner filled with supposedly mysterious suspects. There’s an obvious twist, which is sadly the best thing about this soggy tale.

If you're in the mood to read more about Mr. Holmes and Dr. Waton in the movies and on television, check out ClassicBecky's post Elementary, My Dear Fans. Just go to the index at the bottom right of the Cafe's main page and click on sherlock holmes.