The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes: The Cardboard Box

 "Pushing women's work at me? You keep that to yourself!"

So this is it. The final episode, complete with a final philisophical and setimental coda about all the violence in the world as a parting gesture from Jeremy Brett's undoubtedly definitive Sherlock Holmes, much as health problems clearly led to much less physicality in his later years.

And the final episode is a good one, if not exactly standing comparison with the excellence that was routinely reached in earlier, better seasons. An adaptation of a fairly obscure Conan Doyle short story, it still suffers from the overly foregrounded attempts at narrative cleverness that have been too prominent of late: non-linear storytelling certainly has its place, but not here.

Nevertheless, this is a decent send off with a decent cast and a solid story, anchored by the conceit of two severed ears given as a birthday present. It is ulimately a tale of passion, social class, adultery and murder which is told well, much as the trope of the temptress who corrupts a simple man into ruin is worryingly present. This is also, however, a warning against the killjoy busybodies of the temperance movement, who could certainly all do with a drink.

So this is the end. No more Granada Sherlock Holmes. It's now clear that, despite high spots, the once superlative quality has not been so apparent as late, but the series- and the late, lamented Jeremy Brett- will be much missed.

The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes: The Mazarin Stone

 "You know my methods...

What a very odd episode, which I uppose we could dub "Holmes-lite", given that Jeremy Brett hardly appears in his penultimate episode- was this perhaps forced upon the prosuction team by Brett's health?

It's also odd that this is a mash-up of two diparate Conan Doyle short stories- the less than classic The Mazarin Stone and the far more intriguing The Three Garridebs- with one allocated to Watson and the other allocated to a Mycroft Holmes who is drifting further and further from his Diogenes Club personality. It's good to see Charles Gray again, of course, but this simply doesn't work, especially as both stories are tied together at the end. This sort of thing is a far cry from the original mission statement of adapting all the stories.

There's also that syndrome again of directorial touches that are in practice meaningless and simply don't fit into an ITV detective show. This is an episode which simply fails. Without Brett, they should simply have made one less episode.

I really hope the final episode is a good one.

The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes: The Red Circle

 "Please vanish, both of you!"

Two superb episodes in a row: that's more like it. It looks as though there's hope for this final series after all.

I fear I recall little of the short story, but this is a nice little stiry about a very thinly veiled Mafia which manages to handle the tension well and to generate real fear. Never has the Granada Sherlock Holmes felt so much like The Godfather, but this is well written, and extremely well shot too.

Not only that, though- the cast is extraordinary. John Hallam makes an excellent villain, but it's truly delightful to see the lovely and talented Betty Marsden, as well as Kenneth Connor, both in straight roles- although sadly, for Connor, a posthumous one.

Yes, I know I've been critical in the past of adaptations of stories which are not really whodunits, or end up as something else following the adaptation. Yet The Red Circle, while abandoning all pretence of being a whodunit halfway through, still contains a gnuine mystery, and the shift to more of a suspenseful action thriller is, for once, handled well.

It's a nicely subtle ending, too: for once Holmes can't override the law and prevent a man ho acted in self-defence from being arressted for murder, even if we know damn well he will be acquitted.

The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes: The Dying Detective

 "Mr Holmes, you are the very worst tenant in London!"

Sigh. This second episode is better than the first. Jeremy Brett is, of course, superb as the strangely indifferent and, eventually, ill Holmes- or seemingly so. The cast is unusually strong, even if a very young Hugh Bonneville is going by "Richard" here. Roy Hudd is delightful as a ne'er-do-well. It all looks very good. And yet... it's all fundamentally misconceived.

The Dying Detective works well as a short story, but the short stoty works only because it essentially consists of what we see as the final scenes here, as Holmes pretends to be dying so the gullible Culverton Smith can, like a Bond villain, confess. To fit a fifty minute episode we need to have a long, awkward, preambe to establish the context. This is unfortunate, and not only because the denoument becomes rather obvious if we understand what has led up to it. Holmes behaviour, too, in refusing to suspect Culverton Smith (until he does) feels awkward and too blatantly plot driven. It's odd, too, that he would take up the case of yet another opium addict husband; the apparent encouragement of hs cousin would not make the case sufficiently interesting.

As a result, the episode may be well-made but fundamentally doesn't work. The short story needs to be a short vignette in order to work. Expanding it to a full fifty minute episode simply doesn't work.

Still, I'm glad they kept in Homes' apparent fear of oysters...

The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes: The Three Gables

 "Is murder a woman’s secret...?”

Oh dear. After the mainly not very good overlong specials I was hoping for a return to the good stuff now that we're back to the proper length episodes. Alas, on the evidence of this episode, I have every reason to be concerned about what the rest of the series may bring. This really is the most appallingly muddled and messy script I've ever seen from the Granada Sherlock Holmes. 

There's only really one plus point- the splendid performance of the then ninety-six year old Mary Ellis in her final acting role before her death... aged 105. Otherwise, this is dross. Admittedly the original Conan Doyle short story was hardly one of the best (this is one of those stories described as "drivel" by Nicholas Meyer in The Seven-Per-Cent Solution. Yet the changes made here, and the padding out to include a wasted Peter Wyngarde as a pointless gossip-monger, are pointless, yet the treatment of the character of Steve Dixie faithfully translates the casual racism of the original, reminding us that Conan Doyle, while progressive on racial matters in The Yellow Face, was nevertheless a man of his time. I'm less inclined to excuse the use of the character here, though, in 1994, with no thought seemingly given to the issue.

Essentially, this episode is a mess, incoherent and giving very little for Brett to do. Please let the rest of the series not be like this.

The Eligible Bachelor (1993 TV Film)

 "Dull, dull, dull!

Well, at least this isn't as bad as The Last Vampyre. But it's pretty bad, nevertheless. I'm well and truly glad to have put these three long, pretentious specials behind me.

There are some redeeming features, I suppose. I'm not sure departures from Conan Doyle are quite the thing for a series originally predicated on doing no such thing, and the plot twsts don't exactly arrive through deduction, but the departures from Conan Doyle's The Noble Bachelor (with a pinch of The Veiled Lodger) are clever and well thought-out, Simon Williams is excellent as Lord St Simon and it works well to have the character ultimately revealed to be a bounder and a cad, who had his first (rich) wife killed and his second declared insane. It's a shocking revelation, and his confrontational scenes with Hetty cleverly reveal him as an abuser, charming but frighteningly good at gaslighting, asking "What have you made me do?" as he tries to throttle her.

Yet that isn't enough. This film is interminably long, with Lord St Simon not even engaging Holmes on the case until we're forty minutes in. And the direction, while arty and well done, is meaningless and pointless as the artistry isn't really saying anything. It's good to see Holmes in one of his depressive, drug-addled phases (bipolar?), but it's dwelt on far too long, with the trippiness just a retread of the far less pretentious The Devil's Foot and the nonsense about precognitive dreams being utterly unsuitable for both the character and the series.

I really hope the final six, proper length, episodes are better than this.

The Last Vampyre (1993 TV Film)

 "Are we to give serious attention to such things? It's pure lunacy."

This is the second of the three Granada TV films based on short stories before we return to six proper episodes for the final stretch. It was... challenging to watch.

I found The Master Blackmailer, while by no means great, not to be as bad as its reputation. I can make no such claim for this turgid nonsense.

It's instructive, however, to take a look at why. There is, indeed, a bit of allusion to the supernatural here but there's a more or less rational explanation for everything; this episode is essentially no more supernatural than The Hound of the Baskervilles. Also, while I would have preferred a shorter and more faithful adaptation of Conan Doyle's The Sussex Vampire, the changes work well enough on their own terms and could have worked. This isn't bad because it's overlong: it's just bad television.The introduction of the character of Stockton as a red herring and extra sub-plot could have worked, but fails to do so through sheer dullness, and the scenes in the ruined house are just silly..

Fundamentally this is style over substance, except the directorial fanciness isn't actually as good as it thinks it is. Also, despite the rather good location filming, the guest cast, Maurice Denham aside, is just rubbish and dull- Keith Barron, in particular, is terrible. And the script is just formulaic. Yes, it's good that we get the "Giant Rat of Sumatra" line from the original short story for Sherlockian fanboys, and even a reference to the Gloria Scott. But this is a sad and limp piece of television that is no better now than when I saw it aged fifteen on its original broadcast.

The Master Blackmailer (1992 TV Film)

 "Give us a kiss."

"I don't know how..."

It is hardly novel to make the assertion that is an overly padded out version of Charles Augustus Milverton, a rather anonymous Doyle short story. Nor is is original to point out that it is directed in a pointlessly and pretentiously artistic manner, something wich has occasionally threaened to happen before but it is here that the line is crossed. Indeed, the film seems to break the fourth wall to concede both of these points in a scene where Holmes and Watson visit some snakes at a zoo or some such place for the sole seeming purpose of comparing them to Milverton as an overly laboured and clumsy metaphor. Even Watson asks Holmes whether they really have nothing better to do.

And yet, if only one film-length episode is to be made in 1992, this story is as good a choice as any. There are two full novels by Conan Doyle yet to be adapted, yes, but both A Study in Scarlet (assuming we ignore the fact it is the story where Holmes and Watson meet, something made impossible by the ages of the actors) and The Valley of Fear feature extended flashbacks in the United States, which would be problematic for many reasons.

Indeed, if we acccept that The Master Blackmailer has its obvious flaws, there are good things to be found here. This is a broadly faithful, albeit embellished, adaptation, and the excellence we typically expect from both Brett and Hardwicke is joined by a deliciously slimy performance from the great Robert Hardy as Milverton. The film also delves more deeply into Holmes' morally dodgy behaviour in becoming engaged to Milverton's maid, who genuinely likes him, while posing as a plumber. This is bastardly behaviour, and the film makes this clear in a way the short story does not.

On the other hand, the fact that Milverton's chief victims are two aristocratic engaged coulples is shown near the beginning by an absurd scene of them all cavorting in the garden of a stately home which reminded me of the late Monty Python "anyone for tennis" sketch.

In short, this is a flawed piece of work, and the criticisms often made of it are fair. And yet there are good things ro find in here too, and it could likely have been edited into a decent sixty minute drama. I wonder if the two films to follow will fare as well. I shall do them as quickly as I can but ther length will restrict when I can blog them.

Oh, and it seems this episode, and not the last one, is Lestrade's last. Oops.

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes: The Creeping Man

 "Always carry a firearm east of Aldgate, Watson."

Oh dear. It has to be emphasised that Granada can hardly be blamed for the fact that this is one of Conan Doyle's less well-regarded short stories (Nicholas Meyer goes so far as to have Watson describe it as fake "drivel" in his excellent novel The Seven-Per-Cent Solution), but they chose to adapt it where many other options were available- and this is a tale about a professor who chooses to inject himself with the essence of a primate in order to rejuvenate him ahead of a marriage to a girl about a third of his age.

Worse, the adaptation- while generally well-made and written- chooses to lean into the sci-fi silliness of its premise by adding a subplot of primates stolen from zoos, and features both a man in a gorilla suit, which makes one wince to see, and Charles Kay in a tree whooping like a gorilla. It's embarrassing to watch, and Watson's instincts at he beginning of the episode are quite correct..

There are redeeming features in pretty much everything other than the above. Brett and Hardwicke are never less than superb, and Charles Kay is excellent as the Professor, undignified though his final scene may be. The script, quite rightly, emphasises the ickiness of the Professor's  proposed marriage to a girl he calls "my dear child". It's also good to see Colin Jeavons for the last time as probably the definitive Lestrade. Nevertheess, this episode is hardly the series' finest hour.

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes: The Illustrious Client

 "You go your way. Let me go mine."

This is one of those rare Sherlock Holmes stories which are not whodunits at all. A fairly late short story, it is perhaps surprising that Granada should have adapted this most unusual tale ahead of others. But here we are.

This is a well-made piece of television with some strong performances. It's just odd that the plot concerns an attempt to prevent a naive young lasy from marrying one Baron Gruner- a bounder, a cad and a foreigner to boot- who has numerous crimes, including murder, in his past, and "collects" women to abuse. He's a deeply disturbing and loathsome individual, and t's instructive to hear Conan Doyle's dialogue explaining gaslighting before the term was coined.

This is a thriller, not a murder mystery, and feels intended as an adaptation of a piece of classic literature to a greater extent than is usually the case even with Granada. Nevertheless, it works, and gives the ever-sublime Jeremy Brett the chance to play different angles as Holmes while Anthony Valentine twirls his moustache with aplomb. Surprisingly decent, but I wouldn't hope to see too much more in this vein.

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes: The Boscombe Valley Mystery

 "Watson, all this fresh air will kill me."

It's odd, at this late stage and after sdaptations of so many of Conan Doyle's later stories, that now should appear an adaptation of one of his earliest, first published in The Strand in 1891. It's an excellent episode, though, probably this series' best at this point. It helps that a strong cast is led by a young Hames Purefoy, and both Leslie Schofield and Peter Vaughan appear in short but powerfu scenes. Genial Harry Grout, in particular, gives a spellbinding performance.

The story is, sensibly, relocated to Cheshire to be closer to the Granada studios, and the rural location enhances the episode enormously. There are some nice little character moments between Holmes and Watson- I love the nuances of Jeremy Brett's mannerisms as he tries to persuade Watson to interrupt his fishing holiday for the case.

It's odd, perhaps, to see such an early short story made so late in the Granada series' run, with Brett not, sadly, looking well at all, but I'm very glad we have this.

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes: Shoscombe Old Place

 "You're not the only one that likes a plunge on the horses from time to time, Doctor."

This is an interesting episode, based on the last ever Sherlock Holmes story ever written by Conan Doyle on the one hand (penned in 1927, three years before he died) on the one hand, and featuring a very young Jude Law on the other, long before his days of Hollywood stardom.

It's a decent story, faithfully and expertly told. Yet the episode fails to catch fire, in spite of the satisfying conclusion where we learn of the nature of Sir Robert's deception, his debts and the troublesome moneylender being but a massive red herring. Perhaps it's because it's a little too obvious that the lady in the carriage is keeping "her" face hidden and may not be Lady Beatrice, but this was always going to be difficult to hide in any translation of this story from print to screen. No: I think it's simply that the guest cast, while never committing any acting sins, simply lacks presence and charisma. We can't depend on young Jude for that; he's probably still in sixth form.

Jeremy Brett, it must be said, is as excellent here as ever, but he seems to look older, frailer and, may I say, podgier with every passing episode. If it was, indeed, the part of Holmes that was to kill him, the process of this happening may already be quite visible.

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes: The Problem of Thor Bridge

 "I'm falling into your involved habit of telling a story backward."

This is, surprisingly, one of the finest episodes of the Granada Sherlock Holmes series to date. Surrising, I suppose, partly because the popular Conan Doyle stories have all been done and that now, in the '90s and after a gap, and with a visibly frailer Jeremy Brett (significantly more pronounced in this episode, I would say, than in the previous one) we are left with the less well-known short stories from His Last Bow and the Case-Book; this episode is the first adaptation from the latter.

Yet I'd forgotten how good these later stories, written by Conan Doyle in the 1920s, could be. Here we have an ingenious whodunit which begins, on the face of it, with damning evidence of Miss Dunbar's guilt yet, through devilish clever plotting, has Holmes reveal a very different and ingenious truth- and the gold magnate Neil Gibson is a nuanced and not altogether pleasant figure. He may be rich and powerful, but he has an acknowledged history of domestic abuse; is Miss Dunbar truly so fortunate as Holmes and Watson assume?

This is a superbly made episode, with excellent guest performances from Daniel Massey and Catherine Russell. The setting of Miss Dunbar's cell as she awaits trial and potentially the gallows is suitably chilling- and this is, I believe, the first episode to feature a car. This series promises to be better than I perhaps expected.

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes: The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax

 "I've failed".

Granada's Sherlock Holmes, after a couple of yars' absence, is back for the '90s, a new decade and a new title. It's interesting that we begin with an adaptation of a later short story, written in 1911, and one clearly set after the the turn of the century- Suffragettes are mentioned, and the Boer War has ended, so it can be no earlier than 1902. Holmes and Watson are middle-aged, and it is no longer obviouly trues that Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke are really too old to play their characters, wh would both have been aroung fiftyish.

There's also a hint that Holmes' faculties may be declining with age; he solves the case- and prevents poor Lady Frances from being buried alive- soon enough to save her life but too late to prevent what appears to be severe PTSD. His sense of failure and guilt is very much played up by the direction and the excellent performance of a mildly frailer-looking Brett.

The filming in the Lake District is breathtaking, and the early scenes, with Watson on holiday writing to Holmes. Lady Frances' delightful eccentricity in these scenes is in horrible contrast to the tragedy that is to befall her- and Michael Jayston's superb performance as her aristocratic brother reminds us that, privileged though she may be, Lady Frances exists at the whims of men who control the purse strings.

The air of religiosity around the earlier scenes feels most odd in a Sherlock Holmes story but it is, of course, a clever piece of misdirection: it is the saintly missionary who turns out to be not only a confidence trickster but a murderer.

This is a strong opening, but possibly one that may herald an older and less confident Holmes?

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1988 Film)

 "Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!"

And so we end the 1980s for Granada's Sherlock Holmes adaptations- they will next resume, after a gap, with The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes in 1991, a new decade, unless one happens to be gulping them all up thirty years later. Nevertheless, The Hound of the Baskervilles- the most famous, most often adapted, and most familiar story that Conan Doyle ever wrote- is a fitting coda to the decade.

It is, of course, only right that Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke should get their own Hound, and this does not disappoint. Yes, the budget is clearly lower than with the previous year's The Sign of Four- some of the mire scenes are fairly obviously done in the srudio- but the programme hardly looks cheap and, above all, the story (as ever with Hound) and performances, barring a few dodgy Mummerset accents, make this a quality production nevertheless, although perhaps the ending is a little rushed. And the much-maligned hound itself looks pretty decent, I think. It's hardly B movie stuff, and I should know.

Ronald Pickup impresses with a nuanced performance as Barrymore, and it's a delight to see good old Bernard Horsfall as Frankland. But it's James Faulkner (looking just a little older than he was in I, Clavdivs) who stands out as that rotter Stapleton, and never mind that the emphasis on Stapleton in this production makes it perhaps a little too clear that he's the killer.

Overall, though, this is an enjoyable version of the story, much better than its reputation.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: The Bruce Partington Plans

 "All the Queen's horses and all the Queen's men cannot avail us in this matter."

This is the final episode in the guise of The Return of Sherlock Holmes; sees the return of Charles Gray as Mycroft; and is one of the finest episodes thus far, after a couple that were perhaps a little below par. It's a fitting end to the eighties for the regular episodes.

Brett and Hardwicke are very much on form, with plenty of character moments, and the deduction in this episode is first class- the way Holmes sees the significance of the points, and what they mean for Cadogan West's place of death, is an extraordinary sequence. We also have some superb guest actors, not least of which is Catweazle himself.

It's also exciting, especally at the end, so see Sherlock Holmes straying into spy territory. It's also interesting to see how Mycroft is far more important within the Civil Service than we had previously been told, beng a kind of proto-Cabinet Secretary. This is an appalingly small Civil Service, too, with "clerks" being given what seem like senior responsibilities. On the other hand, "junior clerk" Cadogan West appears to be paid rather well, so some Victorian values are certainly worth emulating. It's also instructive that MI5 does not yet exist, so Inspector Bradstreet is called in.

Diversions aside, though, this is a truly fine episode.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: Wisteria Lodge

 "We must not confuse the unlikely with the impossible."

This episode is... well, not bad, but disposable. It's well made, produced, shot and (mostly) acted, but this is not one of my favourite Conan Doyle short stories. The initial premise- a house guest (splendidly dressed in Victorian pyjames and one of those pointy hats for sleeping in) wakes to find himself alone in the house- is intriguing, but the resolution (the machinations of a deposed former Central American dictator) seem to owe little to the beginning.

Still, any episode of this programme is bound to be entertaining, and both Brett and Hardwicke are, as ever, outstanding. Freddie Jones gives a bizarrely mannered performance as this episode's inspector- are we supposed to admire his skill, as per the short story, or patronise him? It's an odd way to portray Inspector Baynes, the only police detective to have ever matched Holmes. Yet the Victorian locations are superbly shot and done, as ever, with plenty of period detail.

There's also a piece of period dialogue that jars ("negroid features, mulatto-like"). Otherwise, this is hardly an episode that stands out. Still, we shouldn't expect that, and the episode is decent enough.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: Silver Blaze

 “That was the curious incident..”

This episode, and the short story upon which it is based, is in fact quite atypical, yet paradoxically very much the popular impression of a typical Sherlock Holmes story. There is a purity in how what we get is a pure murder mystery, told methodically with no cheating, with all the clues laid before us.

It is an excellent whodunit, of course- the short story is a standout classic- but difficult to adapt well for a series that depends far more on Victorian colour and idiosyncratic acting for its success. Indeed, while Jeremy Brett is superlative as ever, there is little here in the way of windows into Holmes’ soul for him to latch on to. 

Nevertheless, the tale is told well, with gorgeous Devon location filming and a nicely nuanced guest performance from Peter Barkworth. There’s nothing really to fault the episode. It’s simply a very straight whodunit with very little else happening.

It must be said, though, that this is a fine whodunit, and the final summing up is most satisfying. That this episode does not really stand out is simply a matter of the story not translating well to the visual medium.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: The Devil's Foot

 "John!"

This is a very interesting way to begin a new season, to say the least. I suppose this episode is known for two things. One, of course, is the glorious Cornish location filming, which truly sells the austere, ship-wrecking beauty of the peninsula which is not quite, really, a part of England. The other is the unexpected trippy sequence where Holmes and Watson get high on some bad acid, man.

The thing is, though, it works. It has a plot-related reason and, indeed, is part of the original Conan Doyle short story- this is yet another faithful adaptation. Yet we see some rather well done trippy direction as well as flashbacks including the Reichenbach Falls and, rather randomly and interestingly, some William Blake woodcuts. Jeremy Brett is extraordinary here, as he is always. He is also good at presenting us with hins of the psyche of a Holmes who is close to breakdown and recuperating for the good of his mental health. There are some excellent scenes, in particular, of Holmes alternately taking cocaine and trying to get rid of it, and Watson's reaction. None of this, in a nice subtle touch, is referred to at all either in the dialogue or Watson's narration, which is thus given the air of euphemism.

As for the mystery itself, it is executed very well indeed, with a strong cast. But this episode lingers in the mind for the ancient wildness of the land beyond the Tamar, as well as the land behind the doors of perception.

The Sign of Four (1987 TV Film)

 "Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains- however improbable- must be the truth."

This is the first feature length episode of the variously titled '80s ITV Sherlock Holmes starring Jeremy Brett, and the first of Conan Doyle's novels to be adapted. It certainly feels like a big event: with a strong cast- John Thaw is superb as Jonathan Small despite his accent being all over the place- and some truly luscious location filming for the scenes in India told in flashback at the end.

It is, as usual, a rather faithful adaptation- and, of course, an adaptation of only the second Sherlock Holmes story, before Conan Doyle had quite found his style. Hence, while there are momens of decuction, the whole thing feels more of an adventure story, with more weight on Smalls story than the usual format would prescribe- echoing A Study in Scarlet, with its lengthy postscript in Utah which I skipped, any you probably did too.

There's a little vague racism in the original, inevitably for a novel published in 1890. At least this adaptation discreetly corrects the name "Mahomet Singh", although the use of a rubber mask for Kiran Shah playing Smalls diminuitive Andaman Islander friend, despite the lack of screen tim, is excruciating, and could not be shown today. Then there's Emrys Jones and his comedy Welshman...

It's amusing to see such early Holmes tropes as the Baker Street Irregulars, and that Watson's marriage to Mary Morstan is downplayed. Yet the whole thing is sumptuously shot and made, the cast is superb and, as ever, Brett is superlative.