Sherlock Holmes investigates when young women around London turn up murdered, each with a finger severed off. Scotland Yard suspects a madman, but Holmes believes the killings to be part of a diabolical plot.
When the fabled Star of Rhodesia diamond is stolen on a London to Edinburgh train and the son of its owner is murdered, Sherlock Holmes must discover which of his suspicious fellow passengers is responsible.
The mysterious death of Sir Charles Baskerville is blamed on a longstanding curse that has followed the Baskerville family for two hundred years. Enigmatic sleuth Sherlock Holmes is on the ... See full summary »
On his uncle's death Sir Henry Baskerville returns from abroad and opens up the ancestral hall on the desolate moors of Devonshire. Holmes uncovers a plot to have Sir Henry murdered by a terrible trained hound. First casting of Rathbone and Bruce as Holmes and Watson. Written by
Ed Stephan <email@example.com>
As a Sherlock Holmes enthusiast, I'd LOVE a 100% faithful adaptation of THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES; but as a realist, I know that the only way that would happen is if a group of actors read the book word for word on radio or audiotape. After all, what works in a book doesn't always work on screen; and Ernest Pascal's adaptation is faithful to the spirit, if not always the letter, of Conan Doyle's novel (just watch the scene in the hut on the moor when Watson meets up with Holmes, who explains what's going on: 'Murder, my dear Watson. Refined, cold-blooded murder.' The scene as written by Conan Doyle is a bit dry; Pascal expands on it in a way that makes the scene work on film, and in doing so shows that he was clearly in tune with the source material. Yes, some key characters were dropped or had their parts reduced; others were built up so there would be a few more suspects. In the end, however, we're left with what is still the best version of HOUND ever committed to celluloid. Basil Rathbone IS Holmes: even if he had never played the character again, he would still be guaranteed a place among the great portrayers of the detective. Nigel Bruce's Watson is brave and loyal, and not the somewhat bumbling sidekick he became in the later films; and there is a real friendship between his Watson and Rathbone's Holmes which is a crucial element of any portrayal of the characters, yet which is so often missing. As is only natural with a film made more than sixty years ago, it does creak a bit in places; but it's still a wonderful way to spend ninety or so minutes.
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