Gumshoe trails #2

It’s Friday, so here’s another lovely trailer. This time round I’ve chosen The Big Steal (1949), a strange noir-comedy directed by Don Siegel and starring Robert Mitchum and Jane Greer. They’d previously acted together in Jacques Tourneur’s Out of the Past (1947), but The Big Steal is a much more free-wheeling affair!

Despite the claims of the trailer (“Actually Filmed in Romantic Mexico”), a huge amount of the film takes place in cars, and thus in front of back projection. This was the first movie made by Mitchum after his infamous pot bust. As mentioned last week in relation to Bogart and Bacall, I do enjoy the way that stars of this period are referred to in trailers: “That Mitchum Man” is surely playing on his notoriety as a hell-raiser!

Looking for Lew (part four)

Here’s another in my irregular series on Ross Macdonald covers. Previous installments can be found here, here and here.

There’s a pleasing abstraction to this cover. I love the way that the book’s title seems to be sinking into the grave! The way that pick and shovel are leaning so casually against the earth is slightly sinister. We wonder who has dug this grave, and who it is for…

William Collins edition, 1972

Pursuit to Algiers (1945)

Last night, Dolly Clackett and I sat down to watch one of the Universal Sherlock Holmes films. I suppose they’ve been on my mind recently from thinking about the BBC’s current updating of the characters. Anyway, here are some casual thoughts on the twelfth Rathbone-Bruce film.

  • Holmes and Watson have to protect the King of Rovenia from assassins on a cruise ship bound for Algiers. Confining the action in this way nicely ramps up the tension.
  • It’s one of the Rathbones that I always forget, and am always surprised by its virtues. The next Rathbone, Terror by Night, repeats the format on a train – I think we might watch that one next!
  • We begin in foggy London as Holmes and Watson are lured to a meeting in Fishbone Alley. Just down the road from Squeezegut Alley, no doubt. This is probably the only Sherlock Holmes film that has a scene in a chip shop.

    Holmes and Watson waiting for their fish and chips

  • At one point, Watson believes that Holmes has perished in a plane crash. It’s an affecting moment, beautifully played by Nigel Bruce, giving the lie to the cliche that his Watson was just a bumbler. As a steward speaks to him, he stands looking out to sea, and says distantly, “I can’t see anyone now.” Critic Alan Barnes observes, “It’s as if his life has ended too.”
  • Of course, there’s plenty of great comedy from Bruce too. I especially liked his recounting of The Giant Rat of Sumatra (naturally, the film keeps cutting away at important moments) and his rendition of ‘Loch Lomond’.
  • There’s a nice turn from Morton Lowry (Stapleton in Hound of the Baskervilles) as a steward who’s not quite what he seems…
  • In one of those off-hand jokes that make these films such a delight, Holmes observes that “the late Professor Moriarty was a virtuoso on the bassoon”.
  • At one point, Holmes breaks an assassin’s wrist in a porthole and then wishes him goodnight. What a badass.

    Marjorie Riordan as Sheila, Leslie Vincent as Nikolas and Rathbone

  • Holmes is rewarded at the end of the film by a kiss on the cheek from the heroine. “Elementary my dear Watson,” he tells the dumbfounded doctor, “and quite pleasant!”

Guest blog at Sherlocking!

Sherlocking has become one of my favourite blogs recently. Sean and Liz are constantly updating with news and photos, and the comments sections are always good-natured and intelligent.

So I’m delighted that Sean invited me to write a guest post for Sherlocking. I’ve written about A Study in Pink‘s updating of Holmes and Watson, focusing especially on the use of onscreen text. Please go over, have a read and leave a comment! My article is here.

Sherlock: A Study in Pink

This review contains spoilers.

A Study in Scarlet is one of the least adapted stories in the Sherlock Holmes canon. Like most of Conan Doyle’s novel-length adventures, its bipartite structure resists dramatization. The first half of the story depicts Holmes’ investigation; the second half, the murderer’s confession, the tale of a past wrong avenged. Consequently, there are very few screen portrayals of Holmes and Watson meeting for the first time.

A Study in Scarlet, 1887

So I was surprised that Steven Moffat’s script for last night’s Sherlock followed its Doylean source material so closely. We got John’s meeting with Stamford, Sherlock’s beating of corpses, his deductions around Afghanistan, John’s gradual comprehension of his room-mate’s profession, the murder in Lauriston Gardens, the fruitless chase after a cab, the identification of the cabbie as the murderer, and his terrifying choice of poison pills. Also, I failed to notice a particularly skilful pun on the word ‘ring’, noted by Tom Sutcliffe in today’s Independent here.

For the obsessive aficionado (that’s me), there were a wealth of Holmesian in-jokes, often playing with Conan Doyle’s notorious inconsistency. So we found out that Mrs. Turner lived down the road from Mrs. Hudson, that Sherlock knew a waiter called Billy, and that John’s wandering war wound was a symptom of his PTSD. There were more straightforward quotations as well, like naming one victim James Phillimore and using the wonderful telegram from The Creeping Man : “Come at once if convenient – if inconvenient come all the same S.H.” Sadly, these quotations were sometimes diluted by the updating. Slice it where you like, “The game is on” just isn’t as dramatic as “The game is afoot”!

Like the Universal Rathbone-Bruce films which inspired this series, A Study in Pink boldly stole and reframed detail from the original adventures. However, it also demonstrated its awareness of previous adaptations. In interview, Moffat and Gatiss have mentioned their love for The Spider Woman (1944) and The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970). From the former comes the idea of serial suicides, from the latter Mycroft’s recasting as a sinister representative of the government.

The Spider Woman, Roy William Neill, 1944

I was especially impressed by the two central performances, and am excited to see how they will develop over the coming weeks. Freeman was intelligent and empathetic as John Watson. By structuring his entry into Sherlock’s world as a move from ennui to action (wonderfully realized in the transference from crutch to service revolver), the script gave us a compelling reason for his becoming part of this partnership.

Cumberbatch is potentially one of the great Sherlocks. Physically perfect for the role, the planes of his face convey the detective’s strangeness and inscrutability. Importantly, though, Cumberbatch isn’t a cold fish. We frequently see Sherlock excited and amused, allowing us to understand his passion for the grotesque. Also, I covet his coat enormously.

Unsurprisingly, Moffat chose to leave the second part of A Study in Scarlet alone. However, this left the motivation of the murderer weak. While Conan Doyle’s cabbie was full of pathos, Moffat’s is an arrogant psychopath bordering on cliche. It was difficult to believe the connection to Moriarty, which came off seeming like a tenuous attempt at arc-building.

While I liked the use of Mycroft, I had a major problem with the casting of Mark Gatiss. Maybe it’s just that I can’t separate him from The League of Gentlemen in my head, but I felt that his performance was horribly arch. It was as though he was playing ‘sinister’ in a comedy skit. And giving Gatiss the final line of the episode smacked of self-indulgence, which certainly wouldn’t have been the case if they’d just used another actor.

Some of the hyperactive editing and emphatic ‘whooshing’ on the soundtrack during action sequences (I’m thinking of the chase after the cab) was annoying, and I think this might have been better as a 60-minute episode. Nevertheless, I don’t want to end on a negative note. The next two episodes take The Dancing Men and The Bruce-Partington Plans as their starting points, both of which are much better stories than A Study in Scarlet. I’m looking forward to seeing how the series progresses!

I’ve chosen to avoid talking about the updating of the character in this review as I’ll be writing a guest blog on the subject for the indispensable Sherlocking later this week. Please do let me know what you thought about A Study in Pink by leaving a comment below!

Drawing Harvey’s Head

This is the third in my series celebrating Harvey Pekar. You can read previous entries here and here.

Harvey Pekar couldn’t draw. He would plan out his comics with stick men, allowing his artists to interpret his life as they saw fit. In previous entries, I’ve featured images of Harvey drawn by some of his regular collaborators: Robert Crumb, Greg Budgett & Gary Dumm, Gerry Shamway and Sue Cavey. In this post, I wanted to feature the work of some of Harvey’s more recent artists.

Art by Chris Samnee

Art by Richard Corben

Art by Zachary Baldus

Art by Josh Neufeld

Art by Gilbert Hernandez

Art by Ty Templeton

All selections from DC Vertigo’s Another Day, currently only a fiverĀ here!

Gumshoe trails #1

Raymond Chandler, creator of Philip Marlowe, was born on this day in 1888. In his honour, here’s the trailer to Howard Hawks’ 1946 adaptation of Chandler’s The Big Sleep. Chandler enjoyed the movie, writing to a friend, “You will realize what can be done with this sort of story by a director with the gift of atmosphere and the requisite touch of hidden sadism… As we say here, Bogart can be tough without a gun.”

I wish movie trailers were still like this. The conceit of having Bogart (famous for his role as ‘tec Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon, 1941) discover the book of The Big Sleep in a public library is marvellous, and very funny. And what a tagline: ‘That Man Bogart! And That Woman Bacall! Are That Way Again!’ Expect another fun trailer next Friday…

Looking for Lew (part three)

Here’s another in my irregular series on Ross Macdonald covers. You can find the first two installments here and here.

Over at Killer Covers, there’s an insightful post by J. Kingston Pierce on pulp paperback art. Do go over and read it here.

Pierce interviews Charles Ardai, Max Allan Collins and David Saunders. Their consensus is that by the 1970s, the trend for cheaper photographic art had forced pulp cover artists toward Hollywood and advertising. This struck a chord with me. Time has passed. Living next to a cinema means I’m depressed daily by the Photoshopped eyesores that now pass for movie posters.

Since reading that post, I’ve been mulling the subject over. Do I find photographic covers inherently less interesting? Is this unwarranted prejudice or a simple matter of aesthetic preference?

With this in mind, let’s look at another Ross Macdonald cover. My first post in this series depicted two painted covers, partly because I thought they were unusual and visually more stimulating. However, my second post showed the movie tie-in for The Drowning Pool, a lazy job of design (publicity still reproduction) but meaningful to me because of the quality of Archer-ness in Paul Newman’s face.

My subject today is a different kettle of fish altogether. Yes, it’s a photographic cover, and it’s an eccentric image.

Fontana edition, 1967

I think my first response to this cover was amusement. The forced perspective makes the corpse’s feet seem comically enlarged. Ditto the baldness of that protruding dagger. However, the more I look at it, this image unsettles me. Its gallows humour, perhaps consciously, recalls this still from Hitchcock’s The Trouble with Harry.

The Trouble with Harry, 1955, Alfred Hitchcock

In each case, the corpse is dehumanized, a figure of fun. And perhaps this is why the cover seems so inappropriate for this novel. As Fred Zackel recalls here, Ross Macdonald was of the opinion that, “The detective isn’t your main character, and neither is your villain. The main character is the corpse. The detective’s job is to seek justice for the corpse. It’s the corpse’s story, first and foremost.”

Despite its incompatibility with the book’s contents, I’m happy to have kept this copy in my collection. That curious blend of macabre humour and genuine creepiness is very striking!

Cumberbatch and Freeman interview

More goodies from Den of Geek! First, an entertaining interview with the new Sherlock and John (it’s difficult for me not to type ‘Holmes and Watson!’). Both men discuss their roles intelligently, and there’s a fine sense of camaraderie between them. It is especially nice to read of Cumberbatch’s attachment to Conan Doyle, and his reverence for Basil Rathbone and Jeremy Brett. The interview can be found here.

And then there’s this informative report, which contains the best description I’ve read so far of the new 221B set. I particularly liked the mention of the microwave, which ‘houses a beaker full of eyes’! There’s also some slight criticism of Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes from Moffat… You can read it here.