Wednesday 18 May 2016

The BBC Sherlock Holmes Collection, starring Peter Cushing

It’s been years since I’ve watched the Hammer version of The Hound of The Baskervilles, thus I came to Peter Cushing’s BBC Sherlock Holmes series with no preconceptions beyond some internet gossip about it being rather highly regarded at the time. And indeed it is marvellous – so much so that it’s an utter tragedy that only six of the series of sixteen episodes remain extant in the archives for us to enjoy today. And they are in colour too, which is wonderful. I can’t imagine many people saw them in colour when they were first shown in 1968, but the fact that we can see them that way now, and not just as 16mm black and white film telerecordings made for overseas sales instead, is almost miraculous.

Cushing is an actor I need to see more of; he surprises and impresses me in everything I see him in. For years I’ve known of him as the bumbling eccentric ‘Dr Who’ from the two Dalek films of the mid-sixties, or the efficient Grand Moff Tarkin in Star Wars. But seeing him here makes me want to check out more of his work – the countless Hammer appearances for example, or the infamous 1954 BBC dramatization of 1984. He has a very precise delivery and a delightful twinkle to his performances which make him an endearing and human Holmes, still retaining the sharp brilliance and the deep brooding but without the need to be morose. One can understand more why Watson would want to remain with this Holmes, at times jovial and pleasant. And in fairness Cushing’s Holmes needs to have a modicum of humour and patience about him to cope with Nigel Stock’s wonderful Watson – a complete bumbling boob, the sort of ‘by Jove, Holmes’ wobbly-jowled stalwart that it seems for many years Watson was imagined to be; invalided out of the army and straight into mutton-chopped middle age. Stock is a consummate performer, always working while the camera is on him with little gestures and expressions - he’s like Holmes' faithful dog. Could he be accused of pulling focus? Maybe, but in my view there was a battle royale going on between Cushing and Stock that gives the viewer far more entertainment than might otherwise be expected.

In the main the short stories fare better from these fifty minute adaptations, judging from the two extant examples The Blue Carbuncle and The Boscombe Valley Mystery. They feel a little less rushed, as if they’re allowed to set their own narrative pace. Indeed I’m surprised The Blue Carbuncle isn’t wheeled out each Christmas in the maelstrom of festive repeats. The Hound of The Baskervilles is allowed the honour of two episodes, but the other novels A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four are removed of their excess trappings and condensed down. They still work as stories, but we miss a little colour and breathing space in the process. One of the charms of this particular Baskerville, easily the most often adapted and popular of all the Holmes stories, was the enactment of the social evening and the events leading up to the death of Sir Charles, in their correct narrative place, rather than having it all related by Doctor Mortimer in Baker Street after. Unlike Hammer’s Hound of The Baskervilles, for whom the hound itself must have been the selling point, this BBC version is aware of its limitations and shows the dog as little as possible. I’ve never been entirely satisfied with the hound bearing down on Sir Henry in any of the versions I’ve seen (how wonderful it is in prose, though) so this one does a good job in not even trying to show it until it pounces.

Television is rarely ‘timeless’, and these episodes – highly enjoyable as they may be - are very much of their time, belying the haste and ephemerality with which the programmes were produced. It is doubtful anyone at the time imagined that they’d still be being watched fifty years down the line. There are uneven performances from guest actors (my wife was convinced all the young females were picked on looks not acting talent!) the odd boom mic in shot and the odd wobbly set here and there that one associates with old TV and its limited time and money – but these things don’t matter; it wasn’t trying to be a perfect slice of real life. It’s theatrical television, mainly studio-bound and often presented almost proscenium arch-fashion. If the actors took a bow at the end it wouldn’t seem too out of place. Personally I take great delight in the theatricality of it all, the exaggerated gestures, the slightly delayed responses by extras (check out the pair of yokels waiting for Holmes and Watson to enter the pub in The Boscombe Valley Mystery – I howled for ages over that but at the same time I LOVED it for its imperfections). How many viewers would be fooled by Joe Melia’s old woman in A Study in Scarlet? I love this because it shows television at work – not in a postmodern, self-referential way, but in a way that says ‘we’re not trying to make this real, we’re just trying to do as good a job as we can with what we’ve got and we hope it gives you some escapist enjoyment along the way.’ There’s no sense of the producers trying to ‘get one over’ on the audience.
 
The BBC Sherlock Holmes is also wonderful for old actor spotting. Who gets to see James Beck in anything other than Dad’s Army these days? And then there are actors like John Stratton, Jack Woolgar, Frank Middlemass, Joe Melia – great jobbing actors of the time who could always be relied upon for a solid characterful performance be it in drama or comedy. Their appearances in these episodes feel so much more special to me now, so much less pretentious than the lengthy list of stellar names that Agatha Christies or period dramas get these days. Now it seems to be more about a show boasting of certain actors, using it as a selling point to legitimise itself.

I love these six episodes, and it is heart breaking to think there would have been up to ten more but for the junking of the video tapes or 16mm film copies for overseas sales that no doubt happened when it seemed they’d served their immediate purpose. But what we do have left to posterity is very enjoyable (though not to everyone’s tastes, I’m aware) and I know I will watch them over and over.
 
But before I go I have to ask, what's with Watson and the ornamental dagger in the opening titles - he looks VERY suspicious..!

Tuesday 17 May 2016

Paul & Nessa's Happy Hour Show 32


After a break of three, yes, THREE Happy Hours, I'm very happy to feature some material once again on Paul & Nessa - although long time listeners may spot that the wildlife shorts were used previously in an earlier show (no harm in re-using good material!)

With thanks as always to Paul Dunn, Vanessa Karon and all the boys and girls at Cranked Anvil Productions for letting me post these shows here on my Blog. For more information check them out at http://crankedanvil.co.uk/

Show 32. Voyage From Titan Episode 5 written by Paul Dunn, music by Derry Pope, featuring James Barton, Helen Bowie, David Foster, Steven Jobson, Nicola Redman, Craig Richardson and Rachel Walsh. Sketches by Tim Gambrell, Andrew Stephenson and Matt Watson.  Performed by Sarah Boulter, Carol Cooke, Paul Dunn, David Foster, Harriet Ghost, Michael Grist, Vanessa Karon, Wayne Miller, Craig Richardson and Stephen Sullivan.  Script editor was Paul Dunn. First broadcast 16.03.16
You can follow the show's presenters on Twitter via @PNHappyHour, Cranked Anvil Productions on @CrankedAnvil, radio station Spark Sunderland on @SparkSunderland, or even my good self (if you don't get enough of me here) on @Mr_Brell

Tuesday 10 May 2016

42

So, yesterday I became 42.

Cue massive revelations about the meaning of life, the universe and everything..?

No.

Typical.

In lieu of anything more profound I shall instead add some images of things related to the question, the great question, of life, the universe and - well - everything, to which the answer is, as we know, 42...






Just remember where your towel is.