Watching The Baskerville Curse (1983 animation)
by Mark Wallace
Yet more Sherlock Holmes-watching in recent days. This time it’s the Australian-produced animated series from 1983, with the legendary Peter O’Toole providing the voice of the Great Detective. This series by Burbank Studios comprised adaptations of the four novels by Doyle: A Study in Scarlet, The Sign of Four, The Hound of the Baskervilles and The Valley of Fear, to put them in order of original publication (IMDb reverses Four and Hound in the chronology of the adaptations). This series has not garnered much attention, and have been called “tame and somewhat insipid” by well-known Sherlockian scholar David Stuart Davies. A few reviews on IMDb have called the Hound adaptation the best of the four, so I’ll focus on that for the moment.
Firstly, it’s actually called The Baskerville Curse, the only one of the novels to have its name changed for the series, for reasons unknown. On the whole, the series stays very faithful to the novel, changing as little as possible. At 67 minutes, it’s longer than the other instalments (47-ish minutes each), and really that’s plenty long enough for adapting a short novel (under 200 pages in most editions) whose central mystery is not very mysterious and whose list of suspects is fairly limited. Not to mention that Holmes is absent for much of the action on fairly spurious grounds. Indeed, I’m not one of those who think Hound is the best of the stories, though it is clearly the most famous. Compare it to the other 3 novels: it has the least clever plot of them all. Its main USP would appear to be the Gothic element not otherwise prominent in the Holmes canon, and the Gothic has always lent itself to film.
Just as all of the Brett Holmes adaptations do, the Burbank series change the introductions to the tales. Doyle’s classic opening is a dialogue scene between Holmes and Watson, at Baker Street, usually preceding any mystery – Holmes might complain about the boredom of life; do some clever reading of Watson or somebody else around, etc. Into this cosy milieu the mystery is afterwards introduced. Many of my favourite moments and pieces of dialogue come from these introductory scenes, but adaptations have tended to eschew them, perhaps because they are not seen as being very dramatic.
Typical Doyle opening, from “The Copper Beeches“. Nice dialogue!:
“To the man who loves art for its own sake,” remarked Sherlock Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily Telegraph, “it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped this truth that in these little records of our cases which you have been good enough to draw up, and, I am bound to say, occasionally to embellish, you have given prominence not so much to the many causes celebres and sensational trials in which I have figured but rather to those incidents which may have been trivial in themselves, but which have given room for those faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis which I have made my special province.”
“And yet,” said I, smiling, “I cannot quite hold myself absolved from the charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my records.”
“You have erred, perhaps,” he observed, taking up a glowing cinder with the tongs and lighting with it the long cherry-wood pipe which was wont to replace his clay when he was in a disputatious rather than a meditative mood –“you have erred perhaps in attempting to put color and life into each of your statements instead of confining yourself to the task of placing upon record that severe reasoning from cause to effect which is really the only notable feature about the thing.”
“It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter,” I remarked with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism which I had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my friend’s singular character.
“No, it is not selfishness or conceit,” said he, answering, as was his wont, my thoughts rather than my words. “If I claim full justice for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thing — a thing beyond myself. Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell. You have degraded what should have been a course of lectures into a series of tales.”
This adaptation starts on Dartmoor, with an episode only seen in flashback in Doyle, the death of Sir Charles Baskerville, adding some dialogue not found in Doyle, and introducing Dr Mortimer and Barrymore, as well as the Hound himself. This is similar to the famous Hound of 1939 with Rathbone, et al. The scenery evokes Dartmoor – perhaps they arrived at this through the similar scenery of the 1939 version. I’ve never been to Dartmoor, but have a concept of it through the various Hound adaptations, particularly the unmistakable rock formations.
The adapting-the-adaptation feel of Curse gets stronger when the next scene is an inquest scene – again similar to 1939, but just mentioned in flashback in Doyle.
Just over five minutes in, we get to London and Baker Street. Our first view of Holmes is almost a facial close-up. He’s a young Holmes with a full head of brown hair and a rather characterless face. A slight disappointment. Watson on the other hand is a clearly older man, stout and bulldog-ish: once again, evoking Rathbone and Bruce in the earlier film?
The Rathbone film goes out of its way to throw suspicion on Dr Mortimer in the early scenes – so much so as to create a slight narrative incoherence, in my opinion, given that no reason for Mortimer’s odd and defensive behaviour in these scenes is ever forthcoming. This film, meanwhile, focalizes on Mortimer at the time of Sir Charles’ death, making it fairly clear that he didn’t do it.
When Stapleton enters at around 21 minutes, he is immediately signalled as the culprit (spoiler: Stapleton did it) by his surly demeanour, perpetually sour expression and the eerie music that accompanies his presence. meanwhile, Sir Henry has the same squared-jawed and characterless appearance as Holmes.
Maybe the real hero of the story is the Great Grimpen Mire, introduced in this adaptation concurrently with Stapleton. Some nice long shots bring atmosphere to the setting, and the spiral motif to suggest the treacherous terrain is evocative. Even the relative roughness of the animation rather adds to the atmosphere in the moor scenes.
After disappearing before the 20 minute mark, Holmes finally re-appears after around 49 minutes, and then the endgame can begin. Lestrade enters as well, and has an unusually big role. He also escapes being mocked by Holmes as he often is in Doyle – indeed, this adaptation is almost wholly humourless.
Finally, Holmes bows out by telling his sidekick “As always, it was elementary, my dear Watson, elementary.” Holmes’ famous line, never used in Doyle, tacked on, a nod to the myriad of sources invoked by an adaptation of the character at this point. It’s hard to approach Hound with originality, and this doesn’t really manage it. For me, I’m reminded that the novel itself doesn’t really reward repeated encounters. The Barrymore/ Selden subplot is an uninteresting irrelevance, and the denouement is predictable. The best thing about this adaptation, I would suggest, are some of the moor scenes, where visuals, music, and a fairly miminalist script are used in conjunction to create a good atmosphere, though, over 67 minutes, it’s stretched a bit thin.