R.I.P. Sir Christopher Lee.
Directed by Terence Fisher, Starring: Peter Cushing, André Morell, Christopher Lee. Horror/Mystery, UK, 1959, 87mins, Cert PG.
Directed by Terence Fisher, Starring: Peter Cushing, André Morell, Christopher Lee. Horror/Mystery, UK, 1959, 87mins, Cert PG.
“There
is more evil around us here than I have ever encountered before!”, exclaims
Peter Cushing’s Sherlock Holmes. Hardly dear Peter, hardly; but nevertheless
there is still much to enjoy in Hammer’s rather tame telling of Sir Arthur
Conan Doyle’s Scooby-Doo tale.
Not
that it starts out tame. The legend of the hell hound of the moor opens with a
surprisingly sadistic flashback (pure invention on Hammer’s part) where Sir
Hugo Baskerville, cheered on by a drunken court of braying aristocrats, throws
a servant girl’s father headfirst through a stain glass-window before implying
nothing less than gang-rape for his daughter. Upon discovering that: “The bitch
has got away!” Sir Hugo releases the hounds onto the moors in pursuit and
eventually tracks her down amongst the abbey ruins where he proceeds to plunge
a dagger into the poor girl. However, Sir Hugo is himself in for a nasty
surprise as that blood-curdling howling which spooked his hounds is about to
manifest itself into an ominously looming shadow, and the servant girl’s blood dripping
onto the ruins is about to be supplemented by that of Sir Hugo’s...
Not
bad for an “A” certificate! However the film never really lives up to this
barnstorming opening – and instead settles down into an almost cosy restrained
Sunday teatime affair. Peter Cushing is reliably mesmerising as the great
detective – and his prop juggling is in fine fettle – lighting his pipe with a
hot piece of coal plucked from the fire with tongs; stabbing his papers onto
the mantelpiece and writing down details on his shirt cuff. Holmes’ faithful
companion Doctor Watson is played with admirable restraint and dignity by André
Morell, and Christopher Lee seems to be relishing a rare stab at a straight up romantic
lead role as the last of the Baskerville line: Sir Henry. Indeed he certainly
appears comfortable enough for the most part, albeit with one obvious exception
involving an unwelcomed close encounter with a (real) tarantula which crawls up
his arm before being replaced with a joke shop substitute just in time for Mr
Holmes to dispatch with his trusty poker.
Hammer
play around with the original novels plot (most significantly in their
reapportioning of the real villain’s identity), which may well have rankled
with audiences familiar with the original book – but I’m guessing the punters
sitting in their picture houses back then would’ve been far more outraged by
the final reveal of the beast itself. It was after all a Hammer film, and the
original poster artwork which had enticed them into the stalls promised them a
fearsome hellhound with drooling fangs and piercing eyes of pure evil. What
they got back in 1959, and what we get now in 2015 (in gloriously unforgiving
HD) is a scrawny looking young Great Dane (called Colonel) in an ill-fitting
mask of rabbit skin – who had to be goaded into action by the onset prop man
(who he hated). Unfortunately no amount of prop-wielding dexterity or verbal
sparring from Mr Cushing can compensate for the ultimate letdown of a Barbara
Woodhouse trained placid pooch being obviously forced into grappling with its
supposed victims. (Mr Lee might disagree somewhat as he was indeed bitten for
real by Colonel in a rare unguarded moment).
Ultimately
it’s this letdown of a finale which doomed the chances of further Hammer excursions
into the cunning mind of the great detective. But it leaves behind a charming
one-off hodgepodge with many Hammer traits present and correct: the dry ice
shrouded atmospherics, the day-for-night photography, James Bernard’s iconic
bombastic scoring (including snatches from his own DRACULA score) and indeed
the same castle set redressed from DRACULA itself.
So,
whilst Cushing’s Holmes believes that the case of the Hound of the Baskervilles
is: “...a two-pipe problem”, Hammer’s THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES is really a
one-hound problem. But whilst it may lack real bite, it’s hard not to feel
genuine affection for this mutt in Hammer’s canon.
***(out of 5*)
Paul Worts
(This review originally appeared on the FrightFest website).
Whatever happened to David Oxley? He had such a striking presence as Hugo Baskerville; I remember finding him more scary than the hound.
ReplyDeleteI think the worst version is the 1983 version, in particular in regards to how they handle Francesca Gonshaw in the Hugo flashback.
I have an interpretation of Hugo shielding his face with his hands, as though he not only is futility trying to get away from the horror about to avenge the girl’s death but suddenly realises the consequences of his actions . Based on this, it highlights Hugo’s sudden realisation he has damned his very soul. So, the sudden shielding hands over face in shame still harbors so some sort of twisted sense of guilt for his actions. Of course, in that moment, he was damned, Was there ever a more terrifying, evil, rip snorting, bag of fury than Oxley's portrayal of Sir Hugo Baskerville? I must be honest, I actually find him more frightening than the hound! It is also a nice attention to detail, that when he sees the unseen hound, the demonic hound happens to terrify a demon in human form. He is probably aware that the things he did are terrible but not believing in God, and relishing in his misdeeds, make a jab about the hounds of hell taking him. He sees an actual hellhound coming for him like a vengeful wraith, his eyes widening with terror, and him shaking his head in disbelief "No. No." as he is unable to fanthom that he is seeing an actual hellhound before him, and his eyes widen in pure terror as the hound approaches him, as he realizies that he's damned for all the evil he's done, finally letting out the last sound being an actual scream of terror and shielding his hands with his face, dropping the dagger as the hound mauls him.
ReplyDeleteI think it is no coincidence that when Hugo meets his well-deserved fate to the hound, he drops the dagger, instead of using it to defend himself against the hound, instead shielding his face with his hands. As his final sane thought comes into his head, he realises that the hound, being a ghost dog, cannot be injured or killed. In a way, his shielding his face is almost like a mixutre of sudden shame (as if suddenly realising how evil he himself has fallen) and fear (as if he is now seeing the gates of Hell opening up for him); even his blood cludding screams turn into a gurgle as we hear the hound chewing nosily, as if it is inflicting pain on him in his last moments on Earth, before it takes him to the next world. Having the hound itself not be shown is so good, since a) the fake hound the Stapleons uses is not really effective on screen, and b) we can imagine the actual hellhound however we see it in our own minds' eye that way, and no one has to feel like "that's not what I always thought the hellhound looked like!"