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SHERLOCK
HOLMES
THE
CINEMA CLUB DVD COLLECTION
Starring:
Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes
There were six series of Granada TV Sherlock Holmes
adventures made between 1984 and 1994: two series of The Adventures of
Sherlock Holmes (thirteen episodes), two series of The Return of
Sherlock Holmes (eleven episodes), The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes
(six episodes) and The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes (six
episodes). Five feature-length special episodes, including adaptations of
two of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's four Sherlock Holmes novels (The Sign
of Four, in 1987, and The Hound of the Baskervilles, in 1988),
were also made, before star Jeremy Brett's untimely death ended
the series.
British fans of the Brett series have been lucky in that
all of the adventures have been released on VHS (initially by various
combinations of the Castle Hendring organisation, and later on Granada's
own imprint, via VCI). Many episodes of the series have more recently been released on
disc in the US, by MPI Home Video, and the entire series is available on
DVD from Japan, at astronomical cost. Now the series has been released in
the UK, on the Cinema Club label. Each single-layer disc contains two
episodes, at budget price. The discs are also available in a complete
series box set, offering a substantial discount.
I wasn't at all impressed with the only
MPI disc I sampled (the first one, featuring A Scandal in Bohemia, The
Dancing Men, The Naval Treaty and The Solitary Cyclist).
The series was shot on 16mm film. I'm quite familiar with the best existing PAL video transfers of the
series (which were probably taken from the 1" analogue tape masters), and,
even allowing for the reduced resolution offered by the DVD format, know
that the MPI discs were a poor facsimile. That's not to say that the
existing master tapes are terribly impressive. In the case of the early
episodes the 16mm negative would have been transferred to tape in the
mid-eighties. Telecine technology has improved dramatically since then, but returning
to the film negatives, or even to film prints, is a very a costly
exercise.
VCI is one of the most frugal video companies operating
in the UK, and by the time any product reaches their bargain basement
Cinema Club range, spending more money than is absolutely necessary is not
a consideration. In the case of the Sherlock Holmes series, the DVDs have
been made from masters with inherently dull contrast, and soft image. Film
flaws abound, including what would now be completely unacceptable amounts
of film and negative dirt, sparkle and other flaws. Like most filmed TV
from the era, there's also an annoying tendency for the film to twitch
slightly on cuts. Various fleeting minor analogue video impairments are
also present. Most, if not all, of these flaws could have been
eliminated if the series had been properly remastered.
All the episodes are presented in their original 1.33:1
(4:3) aspect ratio. (To be strictly accurate, because of the way the
episodes have been mastered, they're actually in a ratio of about 1.28:1,
but it makes little difference, because what's missing from the sides
would normally be lost in the overscan of most domestic TV sets). The good
news is that the transfer to DVD hasn't significantly degraded the
picture quality.
They're slightly softer than they perhaps could have been if a higher
bitrate had been allocated to them, but there are rarely signs of MPEG
artefacts. Contrast is often weak or excessively harsh, and black levels are
often poor, but this is a
fault on the video masters, and not something that has been introduced
recently. Picture quality is marginally better than could be obtained by
an ordinary domestic off-air recording. The UK discs have much more subdued hues than the American
disc, offering a much more naturalistic appearance. Colour balance is also
better on the UK discs, and they have less underlying chroma noise. The US discs have constant smeariness resulting from excessive video noise
reduction, which isn't present on the UK discs.
The average bitrate on each of the four MPI episodes was 5.6Mb/s. The four
equivalent episodes on the Cinema Club discs have an average bitrate of
5.56Mb/s, but examination of graphs showing bitrate over time show that
the Cinema Club discs have much higher peaks and much lower troughs, indicating more
adaptive coding. There's no doubt that the UK discs are superior to the US
disc available for comparison.
The
four episodes on the MPI disc suffered from horrendous audio wow and
flutter (particularly on A Scandal in Bohemia and The Naval
Treaty), which played havoc with Patrick Gower's mournful music.
Dialogue frequently sounded choppy (this may have been the result of a
sampling-rate error). The wow and flutter
isn't entirely absent from the UK discs, but it isn't anywhere
near as prevalent. The audio on the UK discs is Dolby Digital mono,
presented in 2.0 format (at 192kbps). Dialogue is generally clear, if occasionally
slightly sibilant.
The Cinema Club discs are the very definition of
"bare bones". They have only one menu screen, offering the choice of
episodes (even though the episodes themselves are broken down
into chapters, at apparently random six or seven minute intervals). The
menu screen on each disc uses a photo' of Edward Hardwicke as Watson, even
for the episodes that feature David Burke! Purists
will be disappointed - but not surprised, surely - to find that the
episodes no longer have the Sidney Paget advert bumpers that graced the
original UK transmissions. Some of the episodes have the old yellow and
blue Granada logo at the head or tail, however.
THE ADVENTURES
OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
A Scandal in
Bohemia
Adapted
by:
Alexander Baron
Director:
Paul Annett
Featuring:
Gayle Hunnicutt, Wolf Kahler, Max Faulkner
Holmes
encounters "the woman", Irene Adler, in Jeremy Brett's first
outing as the great detective. Adler is in possession of a compromising
photograph which reveals her intimate relationship with the King of
Bohemia, and threatens to destroy the King's forthcoming wedding.
The
episode is a rollicking start to the series, giving Holmes a formidable
opponent and the opportunity to slip into disguise not once, but twice, as
a swarthy groom, and a twittery clergyman (both very closely based on
Sidney Paget's illustrations for The Strand magazine). Gayle
Hunnicutt gives a charismatic performance as Adler, in what's actually a
rather slim role, one that's certainly less substantial than many other
female characters in the Canon. Adler's reputation is largely built on
what others have to say about her: the part offers only a handful of lines
and a few minute's of screen time. Wolf Kahler is rather stiff as the
King, but no more so than may reasonably be expected. Paul Annett's
direction is unremarkable, and marred by the use of cheesy
starburst filter effects during the flashback sequences, but his contributions
included two nice touches not found in the original story: the blindfolded
orchestra, and Irene's gender-swapping nightclub visit (which foreshadows
the later scene where Holmes, relishing victory on the steps of 221B Baker
Street, is bid a good evening by a passing gentleman). This
adaptation also adds a final piece of the jigsaw that doesn't appear in
the original story: the scene showing Adler discarding the incendiary
photograph into the sea.
Look
out for an early, un-credited appearance by Eastenders star (and
latterly football pundit) Tom
Watt, as one of the two brawling ruffians. Adler's manservant, John, is
played by Max Faulkner, an experienced stuntman whose credits include a
couple of James Bond movies and various 70s Doctor Who
stories (most memorably in The Android Invasion, where he plays an
malfunctioning android soldier who walks over the edge of a cliff!)
A
Scandal in Bohemia was the fourth story to be filmed, after The
Solitary Cyclist, The Speckled Band and The Naval Treaty.
Many of Conan Doyle's original stories, including this one, take place after Watson is married, and
living apart from Holmes, but for the sake of the series' internal
continuity, this, and other, episodes are relocated to the time where Holmes and Watson are
still sharing 221B Baker Street.
The Dancing
Men
Adapted
by:
Anthony Skene
Director:
John Bruce
Featuring:
Tenniel Evens, Betsy Brantley, David Ross
The Dancing Men is one of
the Canon's great tragedies, featuring a loving relationship torn apart by a secret from the
past. The mystery of the dancing men (a row of cryptic
figures chalked upon a garden bench, which causes great consternation to
the mistress of the house) is one of Conan Doyle's slightest tales, but
one that John Bruce and Anthony Skene have adapted beautifully. It
could be argued that once any of the Holmes mysteries is explained to the
reader - or viewer - it's subsequent appeal is diminished, but the appeal of the books - and TV episodes - rarely
rests entirely on the plot alone.
Kenyan-born Tenniel Evans is one of Britain's finest character actors, with
dozens of notable TV appearances to his credit, in everything from The
Avengers to The Liver Birds. Episodes of the hit
comedy series The Navy Lark, which featured him as Abel Seaman
Goldstein, have been airing regularly since the 50s. His appearance as the soft-spoken
Hilton Cubitt doesn't disappoint. Fans of Red Dwarf's talking
toaster are unlikely to recognise David Ross here (as Inspector
Martin), but long-suffering fans of Granada TV's Coronation Street may
remember Wendy Jane Walker (who plays the maid, Saunders) from her days as
Ken and Valerie Barlow's daughter, Susan, who married Mike Baldwin in
1986. British actor Eugene Lipinski demonstrates his versatility as the
villainous American Abe Slaney. His other credits include playing a Polish
professor, a German clerk, a Czech guard and a Russian Cosmonaut! He
also had a recurring role in the Canadian children's TV
series Animorphs, and played a Todt worker on the run in the
Enemy
at the Door episode From a View To a Kill.
THE ADVENTURES
OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
The Naval
Treaty
Adapted
by:
Jeremy
Paul
Director:
Alan Grint
Featuring:
David Gwillim, Gareth Thomas, Alison Skilbeck
A
politically-sensitive, top secret document is mislaid, much to the
distress of the Foreign Office clerk charged with its safe care. Sick with
worry, the clerk, Percy Phelps, summons help from an old school friend,
Doctor Watson. The
plot presents an engaging whodunit, with several elements - like the
mystery of who rang the office bell, and why - that will keep new viewers on their
toes throughout. No wonder Holmes calls Phelps' case "one of the
darkest I have ever investigated". There must have been much
scratching of heads up and down the country, though, when Holmes veers off at a
tangent with his poetic musings on a rose.
Blink
and you might miss the eldest of the Tangey children, who is played by Eve
Matheson, who would gain a modicum of fame a couple of years later,
playing Becky Sharp in the 1987 BBC adaptation of Vanity Fair (which,
incidentally, was written by A Scandal in Bohemia's Alexander
Baron). Pressure of time forced the episode's rather poorly staged shadow play
finale between Holmes and the villain of the piece, with its decidedly odd
insert shots. Nevertheless, it adds an unexpected kink to an otherwise
straightforward episode.
Most
of the episodes on the Cinema Club discs are too dark, and this one is
especially bad. Well-lit scenes are generally fine, but scenes set in shadow are
mired in blackness.
The
Solitary Cyclist
Adapted
by:
Alan
Plater
Director:
Paul Annett
Featuring:
John Castle, Barbara Wilshire, Michael Siberry
A
young governess is stalked by a mysterious stranger in The Solitary
Cyclist, which was the first story to be filmed. It's common
practice that the first episode to be shot is rarely intended to be the first
to air. This allows the production team a chance to iron out the bugs
before making the episode which will be the first one that viewers - and
critics - will see. Many members of the production team were already very
experienced in making period drama, since they had previously worked on
the detective series Cribb (the main difference was that Cribb
was shot on video, and the Holmes series was shot on film).
The
Solitary Cyclist was selected as the first episode to go into
production by producer Michael Cox, who saw it as an archetypal Holmes
story. Cox credits John Castle with establishing the tone that the actors
should take when, as was often the case, they had somewhat archaic
dialogue to deliver. Castle's performance as Bob Carruthers is exemplary, but his character
is dull. His shameful admission that he lost Violet to Woodley in a card
game provides a moment of poignancy. Far more entertaining is the leering Jack Woodley, played by
Michael Siberry. Siberry would return to the Holmes universe in the 1990 TV
movie Sherlock Holmes and the Leading Lady, playing Franz
Winterhauser in another version of Conan Doyle's A Scandal in Bohemia.
Pay
close attention to the scene where Violet's stalker mysteriously disappears, like a pantomime
genie, in a puff of steam from a train passing under a railway bridge. In
reality there was no train - not even any tracks - and the illusion was
created using smoke and sound effects!
This
episode contains a minor audio snit, and unusually clumsy edits where the
advert breaks used to be.
THE ADVENTURES
OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
The Blue
Carbuncle
Adapted
by:
Paul
Finney
Director:
David Carson
Featuring:
Brian Miller, Ken Campbell, Frank Middlemass
This
disc contains the rather unfortunate pairing of the final episode from the
1984 season of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (The Blue
Carbuncle) with the fourth episode of the 1985 season of The
Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (The Resident Patient).
Veteran
TV Producer John Hawkesworth is credited with establishing the house style
for the Granada Holmes episodes, which often opened with a teasing
flashback scene that would establish elements of the mystery to follow.
Perhaps none is more memorable than the one for The Blue Carbuncle,
thanks in part to Paul Finney's use of the fabled Blue Carbuncle itself to
vignette snapshots of the Chinese gemstone's troubled history. The jump
cut from a young, happy woman being presented with the stone to her present, more troubled countenance is an
especially nice touch. Most of this sequence was the invention of Paul Finney,
extrapolating from Conan Doyle's story to provide a very dramatic first
act. Finney, incidentally, is a pseudonymous credit for a writer who chose
not to be credited after being unhappy with some of the changes
that Hawkesworth had made to his script.
The
Blue Carbuncle continues in much the the same vein, including a couple
of terrific scenes between Holmes and Watson: the first as Holmes deduces
Baker's character and personal details by studying his discarded bowler
hat; the second his sly questioning of its owner.
The
episode is packed with winning performances, including those by Ken
Campbell as the scheming footman James Ryder, Ros Simmons as his
partner-in-crime, Desmond McNamara as plumber John Horner and
Rosalind Knight as the imposing Countess of Morcar. Frank Mills, a well-known
face from his recurring roles in three popular TV series (as Frank
Rudd in Nanny, Fig Newton in Rumpole of the Bailey, and
Frank Wainthropp in Hetty Wainthropp Investigates) plays Petersen
beautifully, but is overshadowed by Frank Middlemass, as the impoverished
Henry Baker and Eric Allen as Breckenridge, the belligerent Covent Garden
poultry dealer.
If
there's one criticism to be leveled at the episode, it would be about Patrick Gower's syrupy Christmas carol-tinged score. Gower's music, one
of the key strengths of the series, is somewhat irritating in this
episode.
Watch
carefully the shot where Ken Campbell feeds the jewel to the goose, and
you might spot him slyly palming the stone in his other hand!
The Resident
Patient
Adapted
by:
Derek Marlowe
Director:
Alan Grint
Featuring:
Patrick Newell, Nicholas Clay, Tim Barlow, John Ringham
Many
of Conan Doyle's best Holmes stories feature a protagonist who is unwittingly
participating in a fiendish plot. When their suspicions are finally
roused, they inevitably seek advice from Sherlock Holmes, which is
generally where we join the story. The Resident Patient is an
archetypal example: a talented young doctor is lifted from poverty by an
apparently benevolent patron, who has his own dark motives for this
munificence.
The
late Patrick Newell, a TV icon from his regular role as Mother
in The Avengers, is typically wonderful as the terrified
Blessington, aided by some great make-up work. Fans of the actor will
doubtless recognise his voice during the dream sequence at the beginning of
the episode, removing some of the surprise when the coffin lid is removed.
Tim Barlow, who plays the cataleptic Russian Count, Biddle, has one of the
most distinctive faces on television; one that's often put to good use in
period drama. Nicholas Clay has never particularly impressed, and is
merely adequate as Doctor Trevelyan. On the other hand John Ringham, a great character actor
who's never received the recognition he deserves, plays Inspector Lanner
with some panache, although, typically, he's merely there to pay Holmes
complements
Further
reading and acknowledgments:
A
Study in Celluloid by Michael Cox (Rupert Books, 1999)
The
Television Sherlock Holmes by Peter Haining (Virgin Books, 1994)
Sherlock
Holmes on Screen: the Complete Film and TV History by Alan Barnes
(Reynolds and Hearn, Revised 2004) |