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..!
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