Following
the success of The Curse of Frankenstein and
Dracula, Hammer Studios decided to turn their attention to the
work of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In keeping
with the tone of their recent films, their choice of The Hound of
the Baskervilles seemed a solid concept. Certainly
it was the most famous of Doyle’s many Sherlock Holmes stories,
and it was arguably also the one that was best suited to
feature length adaptation. On
top of that, it had a macabre component – even if the
inevitable intervention of logic would render its supernatural
elements easily explained by the master
sleuth by the time the film faded to black. The casting
of Peter Cushing
as Holmes was a given, even if Hammer executive James Carreras’
assertion that he would be the screen’s first
“sexy” Holmes remains highly questionable. Had the
film been made a few years later, it would not be
inconceivable to picture Holmes as being played by
Christopher Lee (who would indeed later essay the role several
times, beginning with the bizarre West German production Sherlock
Holmes and the Deadly Necklace, 1962, directed by Terence
Fisher), with Cushing supporting as Dr. Watson. In
1958, however, Lee was only beginning to establish a name
for himself, whereas Cushing was more of a proven
quantity.
Sensibly realizing that Lee was too young and too
imposing to play Holmes’ right hand man and confidante,
Dr. John Watson, he was instead given a chance at playing the
romantic lead, a bit of casting which Lee openly relished; he
would therefore become one of the few actors to lend much
in the way of presence and color to the usually disposable
role of Sir Henry Baskerville. To play Dr. Watson, Hammer turned to veteran actor Andre Morell. Morell
was known as a prickly sort, given to speaking his mind,
and he and Lee apparently did not hit it off at all – but neither
ever made much of a commentary on this, leading one to suspect
that perhaps they were simply too similar in disposition. Happily,
no such conflict would come into play with Morell’s
relationship with Cushing – they had already acted together in
the controversial, Nigel Kneale-scripted adaptation of George
Orwell’s 1984 (1954) for the BBC , and following
Hound, they would appear in Cash on Demand (1960), Cone of
Silence (1960) and She (1964). Sadly, however,
this would mark their one and only outing as Holmes and Watson
– while Cushing would go on to play the role many more
times (always on TV, it should be noted), Morell’s association
with the world of Conan Doyle would begin and end on Hound.
The film itself is a problematic one, and this is down more to the screenplay than anything else. While
some Hammer fans have praised scenarist Peter Bryan for
structuring the film so that it would
have some consistency with the “sins of the fathers”
motif that was so common in Hammer horror (and in British horror
in general, if truth be told), it seems to this writer that his
attempts to “Hammerize” the material results in a film that
sits unsteadily between two different styles of
filmmaking. The more sensational elements
feel rather grafted on, while the mystery angle becomes
negligible in the bargain. Viewers unacquainted
with Conan Doyle’s story might hope to have some sense of
surprise when the killer is finally unmasked, but thanks to the
heavy handed approach, there’s never any real doubt as to
“who done it.” As such, the film fails as a
mystery, and while there are token gestures towards the horror
crowd, it’s a little too tame and
restrained to really work on that level, either.
Director Terence Fisher does manage a tremendous set piece
at the beginning, however, as he details the cruelty of Sir
Henry’s infamous ancestor, Sir Hugo (David Oxley). Oxley
tears into his role with ferocious abandon, teerting on the
verge of camp overstatement yet remaining a credible villain. His
presence is sorely missed when the film switches to the present
day, with Ewen Solon’s sour-faced Stapleton proving to be a dull
and rather listless villain. Fisher and
cinematographer Jack Asher work hard to create a sense of
menace on the moors, but the cramped production values
sometimes conspire against their efforts. Hammer’s use of
standing
sets was beginning to show through at this juncture, though
Hammer’s great production designer, Bernard Robinson,
certainly does what he can to disguise the subterfuge. With
James Bernard’s music booming away, it’s clear that this
Hound is meant to be as scary as their previous Dracula and
Frankenstein pictures – but it never quite catches fire.
One would be hard pressed to fault Hammer for their casting of Cushing and Morell, however. Cushing’s
hawk-like visage and thin frame made him ideal casting, though
his average stature is rather unfairly shown up by Fisher on
occasion – when playing scenes opposite very tall men like Lee
and Francis De Wolff (as the sour-pussed Dr. Mortimer), it
would have made better
sense to minimize this, but Fisher elects to have the
other actors towering over Cushing, who has little choice but to
look up at his co-stars when he should be firmly in control of
the scene. Cushing’s devotion to the role was
absolute, and he added bits of business straight from Conan
Doyle, as well as from Sidney Paget’s famed illustrations
from the original Strand Magazine publications of the
stories. He brings intensity to the role, but he does sometimes rely too much on favored mannerisms. There
are moments when his decision to emphasize the
character’s theatricality verges on ham acting, but he manages to
convey the character’s aloof nature and addiction to cocaine
without becoming as over the top as Jeremy Brett would later
be in the rightly celebrated
Granada TV adaptations of the Conan Doyle canon. It is a
performance that compares favorably with Basil Rathbone’s
iconic, possibly definitive, portrayal for Fox and
Universal in the 1930s and 1940s, but he would arguably grow into
the role and play it with greater subtly and effectiveness when
he took over the deer stalker from Douglas Wilmer for the
BBC television series of the 1960s.
Morell’s
challenge was arguably greater, in that the
character of Dr. Watson had been reduced to the level of
caricature courtesy of Nigel Bruce’s portrayal opposite
Basil Rathbone in the afore-mentioned series of films.
Make
no mistake, Bruce was a charming and engaging performer,
and his blustery portrayal had
tremendous chemistry opposite Rathbone’s aloof and somewhat
acerbic master detective, but it was a portrayal that was
far removed from Conan Doyle. In the stories, Watson is
really the author’s mouthpiece, and it is he who narrates
the action and fills the reader in on the characters and
their motivations. Far from being comedy
relief, Watson is a solid, dependable medical man with a
military background; he may seem “dim” compared to Holmes, but
that’s merely because Holmes represents a kind of intellectual
ideal. Watson is the everyman, and Morell’s
interpretation is faithful to this conception. Morell resists
the urge to play up the comedy, though he does have a few
moments of subtle humor along the way.
It
is, in short, an ideal pairing of two fine actors – and
it is this, above anything else, that makes Hammer’s Hound linger
in memory. Cushing’s wound up, energetic
portrayal contrasts nicely with Morell’s more restrained
approach, and the two men clearly have genuine respect and
affection for each other. They make a wonderful team,
though other vehicles – notably Cash on Demand and 1984 –
would play them off as rivals. It’s to be
regretted that Hound was something of a flop at the box
office, as this killed off a potential series of
Cushing/Morell/Hammer Holmes adaptations. Had they had a chance to
grow into the roles and establish more audience familiarity,
it’s possible that
Cushing and Morell would have eclipsed Rathbone and Bruce in the
mind of the public. As
it stands, however, we only have this one, flawed vehicle
to judge them from – and if the film itself has problems,
there’s little doubt that the two actors acquitted themselves
beautifully and were determined to remain as faithful as
possible to Conan Doyle’s original conception. For this
reason alone, the Hammer Hound remains an essential entry
in the Holmes on film canon.
