So, it's interesting to see the Hammer Studios' "take" on Holmes. Hammer was the British equivalent of Roger Corman's AIP, but with a distinct advantage in that, although they trolled in the less-expensive features, they usually had better reputations than their American cousins. Like AIP, Hammer also purloined classics in the public domain for story material, but they had the advantage of employing Terence Fisher, with his flawless eye of direction, framing (and cleavage) and a repertory cast that included Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee.
Here Cushing plays Holmes and he's obviously devoured the Doyle stories for Holmes quirks, stabbing documents into his mantelshelf and writing notes on his cuffs. His Holmes is energetic and flinty, bordering on rude with a relish of the melodramatic—as any portrait of Holmes endeavoring to be true to Doyle should be. His skull-like face even recalls Sidney Paget's original drawings. Until Brett came along, Cushing, to this Baker Street Irregular, was the best of the Holmes portrayals. Christopher Lee plays the put-upon Henry Baskerville, and as the actor is quick to point out in a "Special Features" interview, it's one of only a handful of romantic leads that he's played in his long, long career.
Bear in mind this was the first attempt at a Holmes movie—in color, no less—since Basil Rathbone hung up the deer-stalker in 1946. Fox Studios had done their own version of "Baskervilles" in 1939, a significant film in Holmes cinema history as it was the first version that kept the time-period to Victorian times—previous Holmes films and subsequent films in the Fox series chose to set the film in contemporary times.
What makes this "Baskervilles" different from the others? Holmes is absent for far less time, for one thing. There's a lurid, rather manic, flash-back acquainting us with the bloody origins of the Baskerville curse, and combines the curse with some ritualistic mumbo-jumbo. It steams up the romance (of sorts) in a way that indicates the couple is in a hurry, and the ultimate dispatching by quicksand is given to someone entirely different. It is, although far more lurid than Conan Doyle envisaged, faithful in spirit, if not in detail. And Cushing's flinty, mercurial Holmes is a delight.
No comments:
Post a Comment