Silver Blaze

"That was the curious incident..."

This thirty minute curiosity is a one-off, produced in November 1977 under the auspices of an anthology programme, The Sunday Drama. It's an adaptation of what, I believe, is considered to be one of the more cleverly plotted of Conan Doyle's short stories featuring Sherlock Holmes.

I won't discuss the plot here- either it will be familiar to you, or I'll risk spoilers. I'll confine myself to saying that this is a very faithful, straightforward version, and very well done indeed, with some nice visual touches- the exposition at the start is done with an admirable economy, in particular. It's an excellent version of the tale.

Thorley Walters is a perfectly good Watson, if a little traditional. But the real standout is Christopher Plummer as Holmes. I've seen his only other attempt at the role, in the slightly later film Murder by Decree. But, unlike that film, this is a faithfully and straightforwardly written version of the character, and allows Plummer to show what he can truly do with the part. He doesn't disappoint, showing us a playful yet focused Holmes.

I had to roll my eyes at the predictable pipe and deerstalker, but I enjoyed this little curiosity very much.

Petticoat Pirates (1961)

" You long haired idiot.

Meh. I mean, this film isn't exactly terrible, but there's a reason why it- and Charlie Drake- are pretty much forgotten.

Yes, the social attitudes on display here are different from today, and one must make allowances. But that's not really an excuse. The same could be said of the Carry On films, and they are far superior to this mildly amusing but underwhelming comedy about the hilarity that ensues when a Royal Navy frigate is taken over by women. The sexism on display is not particularly extreme by the standards of the time, and the whole "battle of the sexes" angle is good humoured, and the ladies pretty much come out on top. Regardless of social attitudes, a film is either good or not, and this film is not.

No, it's not that. And nor is it the script, which may not be brilliant but is perfectly serviceable. Nor, mostly, is it the cast. Anne Heywood, in particular, is superb.

No: it's Charlie Drake. He's just not very good. He's a very generic Norman Wisdom type comedy actor, with no charisma and no discernible talent. For him to have apparently become a star simply beggars belief.

Perhaps I'm being a little harsh. The film is harmless enough, and passes the time. But any humour is mild, and much of the interest comes from the fact that this film is an artifact from another time. I'd suggest, sadly, that this isn't exactly a film greatly worth bothering with.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy: Tarr Tells His Story

"It's the oldest question of all, George. Who can spy on the spies?"

Again the pace is positively glacial- plot-wise, Ricky Tarr reveals the presence of a mile high up in the circus, something Control knew about a good while ago, and Smiley is appointed to smoke out “Gerald”. That’s it.

But it isn’t plot that’s the purpose: this episode, an extended flashback with Hywel Bennett foregrounded as Tarr relates what happened, isn’t about that but about the pathos of Tarr, in Lisbon on assignment, coming across Irina, a Russian wanting to defect, and falling in love with her while trying to get out of her the big secret- there’s someone in Russia, known as Karla, who is running an agent called “Gerald” right at the top of the circus. And there’s more to it even than this; Irina is a complex character, with a deeply religious soul that thirst for meaning and the freedom to explore it.

And it is Tarr who almost certainly dooms her by reporting back to London in too much detail, and she is returned to Russia in circumstances which evoke the possible horrors and, indeed, martyrdom that await her.

Tarr’s broken reaction is real too, but not overplayed. And we find that only Smiley is brought back from retirement to which the mole, without involving the resources of the Circus itself.

It’s slow. It’s gripping. It stars Alec Guineas. This is extraordinary telly.

Sherlock Holmes and the Deadly Necklace (1962)

"I have only one ambition at the moment: to see you hanged."

Christopher Lee playing Sherlock Holmes; sounds fantastic, doesn't it? Thorley Walters as Watson? Terence Fisher directing? Why, that sounds amazing, right?  What could possibly go wrong?

What we have here is essentially The Valley of Fear with a bit of Moriarty stuff and a heist tacked on the end. It's an odd approach but it could have worked. Thing is, though, this was filmed in West Berlin with a German cast, and dubbed back into English so we don't even get Lee's voice. We see him playing Holmes... but we don't really experience it. It's so frustrating.

Worse, all the dubbing is awful, with ridiculous trans-Atlantic accents; the first thing we hear is a bunch of very American-sounding kids. And then there's the setting, and especially the cars- this seems to be set in about 1914 when the novel was written, whereas in fact Holmes was pretty much active (barring the very specific circumstances of The Lion's Mane and His Last Bow) from the early 1880s until about 1903. The cars feel wrong and jarring.

Lee's physical performance is ok, from what I can see; Walters is, I'm afraid, the bumbling type of Watson. The plot is engaging enough, but the whole thing is shot very flat and often feels am-dram with much of the acting. But the dubbing, in the end, makes it impossible to take the film seriously. You thought Dick Van Dyke's cockney accent was bad? Wait until you see Holmes in disguise here...

A real shame.

Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1966)

"There'll be no morning for us!"

Christopher Lee is the nominal star of this film, but he doesn't get to do much other than be a frightening presence: his only line is "Go on!", twice, and that's only to horses. He doesn't even appear until halfway through the film, and his appearances are rationed. Nevertheless, this is a splendid example of mid-'60s Hammer, with Terence Fisher providing atmosphere aplenty and superb performances from Barbara Shelley and Andrew Keir.

We begin with a flashback, glossing over the fact that this is the second sequel, after Brides of Dracula, to Hammer's original Dracula, but we move swiftly on to our new take, centred on four English travellers and a substitute for Peter Cushing's absent Van Helsing in the person of Keir's Father Sandor.

The eerie mystery of the castle is well-set up and well developed to maximise. Both effects and the  an early sense of foreboding. A young Philip Latham (we Doctor Who fans know him as President Borusa from The Five Doctors) is superb as a sinister butler in the early part of the film, but Thorley Walters also puts in a strong turn as Ludwig, an obvious Renfield substitute.

The central scene of the film- Dracula's resurrection- is superb, comparable I. Effect to a regeneration in Doctor Who. Both the effects and the framing of the scene are utterly masterful. Sufficiently so, in fact, as to successfully gloss over how easy it is for the supposedly dead vampire to be revived.

The ending is sudden, perhaps, but better this than it outstay its welcome. This is an excellent example of Hammer during its golden years.

Vampire Circus (1972)

"They play no games. They are death."

I love old Hammer movies, especially vampire ones. The combination of camp humour and genuine creepiness is such fun, and there's such fun to be had with the subtext, too. Take the opening sequence here, for example. It's your typical Hammer setting: somewhere vaguely Mittel-Europa-ish in what looks like Napoleonic times, and everyone has vaguely German or Slavic names. Yet there's a nasty old Count, living in a suitably gothic castle, who's cuckolding the local gentry by stealing their wives, which has mediaeval droit de seigneur overtones, and drinking the blood of their daughters, which has paedophile overtones. Oh, and he's a vampire. Naturally. There are all sorts of sexual and class subtexts here already.

We also have lots more of the usual tropes- mobs with burning torches, sinister forests, even the music. (Incidentally, does anyone know whether the David Whitaker who composed the music here is the same chap who script edited Doctor Who? It's not a common spelling of the surname so I wonder…). Most obviously, of course, there's a very direct equivalence of vampirism with sex; every single scene of necks being bitten in the whole film is so wonderfully erotic. Anna's lust for the Count probably implies that Albert, her husband, is a bit rubbish in the sack. Of course, being a woman who is seen to enjoy sex, she has to be punished by all the men, by being whipped. Which, er, obviously has no sexual overtones whatsoever.

All of this is just the set-up, though, in a pre-titles sequence, something surprisingly rare in films. A lesser film would have this as its main plot, but here it's a mere preamble to establish a curse and get on with the films main purpose; scaring us, titillating us and reminding us that circuses, and not just clowns, are the creepiest things ever. Because they are, aren't they? The mysteriousness, the feeling of a closed world, the highly dodgy treatment of animals and, yes, the clowns. I'm a little worried to see the treatment of a dwarf as "other" and therefore scary, and also the overtones of Gypsies being sinister ("Hey, woman! Gypsy woman!"), but circuses are well creepy. A circus like this would, I suppose, have been recognisable in 1972 but now, thankfully, it isn't.

The plot is wonderful and satisfying, although it's not at all clear why the townsfolk keep going to the circus if they all suspect it of extreme dodginess! There are some nice touches and some nice set pieces. I like the way the strongman (Dave Prowse, no less!) is unaffected by a crucifix as he's not a vampire, and that the quick-thinking (if wet!) Anton is able to use a crossbow as a crucifix. It all looks gorgeous (particularly the large quotient of beautiful young ladies!) and the direction, by Robert Young, is excellent, with lots of particularly brilliant shots. The film is let down by a lack of charismatic actors, however. The cast is mainly competent, or better, but there are no real lead actors to be seen. The exception is John Moulder-Brown, who is eye-poppingly awful and, unfortunately, in a very major role. With a better cast, this would have been a much better film.

Still, there's not a lot wrong with the script or the look of the film. I'm surprised that Robert Young doesn't seem to have done much else. The later Hammers certainly tend to be a lot more erotic, but there's some very good stuff.