The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939)

 "For that's where crimes are conceived and where they're solved- in the imagination.

This is the first time, barring out-of-context clips, that I've seen any of the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films, which I'll be watching every now and then, in order. It's quite arresting to reflect that this film, in 1939, was made less than a decade after Conan Doyle's death and less than forty years after the first serialisation of what would become the novel- many who saw this film in 1939 would have read the story in 1901. The film is set in 1889, precisely thirty years before the film was made. Fifty years is what separates us, in 2021, from the death of Jim Morrison.

Rathbone's performance feels very straightforward to us now, with eight further decades of actors playing Holmes in various ways. But, with those actors preceding Rathbone leaving little mark on posterity, his performance is the template, the benchmark. He is excellent- charismatic and highly convincing. Again, Nigel Bruce's somewhat comical performance as Watson has become something for subsequent performers to rebel against but, judged as the comic role that it is, Bruce's performance is superb.

And so is the film. Unlike other versions, less straightfotwardly shot, this is easy to follow, despite the plot being far from simple, with some nice narrative touches like having the dramatis personae at an inquest scene for Sir Charles at the start, or the faded parchment in the background of the seventeenth century flashback with Sir Hugo. Yet it is the narrative that is simplified without much change to the plot- although having Beryl be Stapleton's sister rather than  his wife has awkwar implications of an incestuous marriage to Sir Henry. 

Moving swiftly on, the whole thing looks suitably atmospheric, with the moor set looking very eerie indeed, and the film has the sense to put storytelling first. A promising start.

It's an interesting ending, though- "Watson, the needle!"

Tales from the Crypt (1972)

"Who's next? Perhaps... you?"

At last I get to see a proper Amicus portmanteau film; I’ve been meaning to for ages. And this one certainly doesn’t disappoint. The format means the film never flags, and the top notch cast and direction make for a superbly unsettling experience.

I’ve never read any of the EC comics upon this was based (although I certainly do know that Dr Fredric Wertham smelled of poo, and was a quack to boot) but I get a distinct impression of the lurid style here, and highly entertaining here. The framing device is simple; a bunch of tourists get lost in a crypt and accosted by a sinister monk, who speaks with the actorly tones of none other than Ralph Richardson, who is having enormous fun here. We hear their sinister stories one by one until the conclusion gives us a delightful twist.

All of the stories are compelling, although some more than others, and there are standout performances from the likes of Peter Cushing in one of his best roles, but the segments are carried well by the likes of Joan Collins, Ian Hendry and an unrecognisable Richard Greene, too old for Sherwood Forest. There are powerful moments- the Balentine’s Card scene is heartbreaking- and the comeuppance of the mean major by the blind men he’s been mistreating is glorious. I’m not sure it’s an obvious leap from EC Comics to a film directed by Freddie Francis and crammed with British character actors, but it really works.

Sword of Sherwood Forest (1960)

"I absolutely forbid it!"

Oh dear, this just isn't any good, is it? The script is for kids in the worst possible way, casually tossed out in the belief that, if it's for kids, it doesn't need to be any good. Richard Greene is crap, hammy and over the top, possibly suitable for live telly in the '50s, but not for the big screen. And Peter Cushing, while he's hardly phoning it in, is wasted on a part that asks very little of him.

Nigel Green's casting as Little John is almost as ridiculous as, well... Nigel Green's casting as Hercules in Jason and the Argonauts. It says a lot that a young Oliver Reed is the best thing in the film, and he's bloody dubbed. Still, at least we get a speaking cameo from a pre-Q Desmond Llewelyn.

There's not a lot else to say though: perhaps Hammer should have stuck to horror.