Tag: Jack the Ripper

Holmes on Film: Murder by Decree (1979)

December 12, 2022

Recently I started a new series of posts in which I look at film and television works that use the character of Sherlock Holmes, either directly or indirectly. I kicked the series off with a look at two very early shorts – Sherlock Holmes Baffled (1900) and A Canine Sherlock (1912), each of which I would describe as Holmes-adjacent works, using the idea of Holmes but little else about the character.

The subject of today’s post, while also not an adaptation of a canonical Holmes story, sees the character – and Dr. Watson – fully represented. I watched it for the first time in preparation for this post and found it interesting enough that I decided to give it a second viewing later that day. Indeed, I think it may well feature my favorite rendering of one of Doyle’s characters.

Now, on with the movie…

Murder by Decree Blu Ray cover

Murder by Decree

Murder by Decree was not the Great Detective’s first run-in with Jack the Ripper. A little more than a decade earlier James Hill had made A Study in Terror which had starred John Neville as Sherlock Holmes which I have seen but am yet to review on this blog. Interestingly two actors from that production also appear in this – Anthony Quayle and Frank Finlay, the latter reprising the same role as Inspector Lestrade.

The first thing to note about Murder by Decree is the intensity of violence represented on screen. Each of the murders that we see feel vicious, with that sense being enhanced by the repeated use of steady-cam sequences in which we seem to be seeing those scenes as the killer. This is where watching the film for a second time however gave me a little extra clarity – that choice helps to imply violence that we do not directly see, adding to the sense of horror while also allowing the director to hold back a little.

On the topic of the violence, let’s also take a moment to reflect on how this (and other works that use the Whitechapel Murders) treats the fact that it is using some real historical figures. There is a school of thought, actually voiced here by Watson in one scene, that the victims can just be turned into props and their worth as individuals can be lost.

The popular conception of the Ripper is examined and explored. We are reminded that class insulated some from the panic that was a part of people’s daily lives for a while. For example, one character comments on how the wealthy seem to revel in exploring the back alleys of the East End where the murders have taken place.

I also appreciate that the film tries to emphasize that the five women murdered were people rather than just victims. The poverty in the East End is represented very effectively, helping to demonstrate the difficulty of the lives of many in the area, and there is an effort to explore their individual circumstances and give at least a couple of them more proactive roles in the story. Yet it’s hard to escape that this is still ultimately fictionalizing real people and that our focus is still ultimately on the question of who the Ripper was. I think it is more tastefully handled than some other fictional explorations of the murders but I can understand those who have trouble with the idea.

Let’s turn then to the characters tasked with solving this mystery – Holmes and Watson. Christopher Plummer had appeared as Sherlock Holmes a short while earlier in a production of Silver Blaze but this is not a continuation of that portrayal which the actor had been less than satisfied with.

I really like a lot about Plummer’s performance here. His Holmes has moments where he appears detached or reluctant to engage, most notably in a scene near the start where he engages with a group of men seeking to hire him. Once the case begins in earnest however it is striking how emotional he becomes, working himself in a fury at several points in the story. Since watching the film I have read a fair bit of criticism of this aspect of his portrayal and I can certainly understand that what we see here isn’t often reflected in the Holmes canon. I think though it is not in itself inconsistent – Holmes’ reluctance to ally himself with the rich and powerful is an undercurrent in several stories and so, by extension, is the idea that he might be appalled by the injustices that he witnesses in this adventure. Those moments and, at points, tears feel earned by the extremity of the situation that he has become involved in and later, by his feeling of culpability in at least a couple of the women’s fates.

There is perhaps a little more truth to the suggestion that his Holmes intuits more than he detects. Like many of the Holmes stories, this is structured more as an adventure than a detective story – at least as far as Holmes is concerned. Many of his actions here are directly following up on ideas of leads suggested to him and the few scenes in which we see our heroes thinking through the case, the ideas being discussed belong to Watson. Holmes it turns out is thinking things through internally rather than voicing them to the viewer. Still, for the viewer however there is an opportunity to play detective as they are provided clues as to the motives behind everything in good time before Holmes reveals the solution (and some unseen legwork he has done to prove the things the viewer could only suspect).

I also really enjoyed the lighter moments Plummer gets, whether demonstrating that he is not completely defenseless when rejecting a revolver from Watson or sharing a carriage ride with him. While the tone of this story does not allow for many overtly humorous scenes, when we do get one it helps provide a bit of tonal balance and reminds us that Holmes is invigorated by the act of investigation. What I like most about the performance though is the sense of affection for Watson that is present throughout the picture.

James Mason’s take on the character of Watson is of an inherently noble, if somewhat stuffy, figure. That stuffiness is not necessarily intended to be ridiculous however, rather perhaps a little naïve. Several of the situations and conclusions reached in this story, for instance, defy his imagination and appall him. At one point in the story he puts himself in trouble, in part because he does not perceive the danger someone might pose to him. Yet while he may err at points or suggest a painfully straightforward solution to a complex problem, he is no buffoon. Instead he is a moral champion, urging Holmes to get involved in the case in the first place, and a good friend – throwing himself into danger to save him.

It is a splendid rendering of the character that I think may well be my favorite take on the part I have come across so far (which is all the more impressive given some of the others to have played the role). I found myself wishing that there had been further films with Plummer and Mason given how well the pair worked together.

As for the rest of the cast, quality abounds. This is a strikingly starry picture with familiar faces throughout. From the stars like Anthony Quayle, David Hemmings, and Genevieve Bujold to even the smaller parts such as June Brown’s appearance as Annie Chapman. While some performances attract the attention more than others (Bujold is superb and while the material doesn’t do much to test John Gielgud, he is dazzling in his brief appearance), I felt there was no weak link or obviously miscast character.

Where I do have complaints is with some aspects of the direction and editing. To be clear, there are some wonderful moments that I think show skill and imagination in how they are constructed. I already referenced the effectiveness of the steady-cam photography and there are similarly effective shots in the lengthy carriage ride Holmes and Watson take and in the dockland scenes (particularly one in which Holmes talks with an unseen informant). There are also some really effective attempts to recreate some locations, most notably the location of the final murder.

Yet there are some moments that feel very awkward. Sudden cuts in the sound as one scene feeds into another such as the lead into the first murder we witness or the choice to shoot some scenes in such a way that we get a very good look at a shadowy individual’s very distinctive features. This coupled with some curiously relaxed pacing, particularly in its talky denouement, soft and smeary cinematography, and the gallery of stars post-credits sequence (admittedly a very unimportant feature of the film), often makes it feel more TV than movie in its style and scope.

While I think the pace of the piece could have been a bit sharper at points, when the film is working it goes marvelously. The performances from the two leads are terrific, their chemistry among the best of any Holmes and Watson, and the solution can be reasoned out – even if it takes some unseen evidence gathered by Holmes to prove his case. It certainly ranks among the better Holmes films I have seen and I am glad that taking on this project prompted me to go ahead and finally watch my copy.

A Study in Crimson by Robert J. Harris

July 31, 2021

Originally published in 2020
Sherlock Holmes 1942 #1

London, 1942.

A killer going by the name of “Crimson Jack” is stalking the wartime streets of London, murdering women on the exact dates of the infamous Jack the Ripper killings of 1888. Has the Ripper somehow returned from the grave? Is the self-styled Crimson Jack a descendant of the original Jack—or merely a madman obsessed with those notorious killings?

In desperation Scotland Yard turn to Sherlock Holmes, the world’s greatest detective. Surely he is the one man who can sift fact from legend to track down Crimson Jack before he completes his tally of death. As Holmes and the faithful Watson tread the blacked out streets of London, death waits just around the corner.

I have previously revealed the role that the animated movie The Great Mouse Detective played in my becoming a mystery fan. It was not just an entertaining adventure in itself, it also introduced me to some of the story beats and ideas of mystery storytelling and specifically to the character of Holmes. It did this well enough that when I happened upon one of the Rathbone Holmes movies a few years later I couldn’t resist watching with the series quickly becoming appointment viewing for me whenever they were repeated on weekends or during school holidays.

For me, at least during my early childhood, Holmes was not a Victorian gentleman who travelled by hansom cab but someone pitching into Britain’s war effort, matching his wits against the Nazis. I loved those movies because of, not in spite of, the setting and pulpy style and I determined I would watch them all. In those pre-internet days I had little idea just how many there were so whenever I spotted a new one listed as showing in the Radio Times it was particularly exciting. Not that it stopped me rewatching those ones I had already seen.

Little wonder then that when I discovered A Study in Crimson, the first novel to my knowledge that specifically features that wartime Holmes incarnation, I set everything else aside and immediately started reading…

The novel opens with a short adventure in which Holmes and Watson are summoned to a scientific research installation to investigate the disappearance of a scientist from within her locked bedroom. This is actually one of two short impossible crimes within the novel and I was entertained but neither case is substantial enough on their own to justify fans of that form seeking it out. Both cases do serve an important role in demonstrating Holmes’ gifts are methods before we delve deeper into the central mystery.

That case concerns the murder of several young women in the streets of London. The first two murders occurred on the anniversaries of the corresponding murders committed by Jack the Ripper and there are some other similarities in the crimes that seems to suggest that there may be a copycat. That is particularly worrying given, as Holmes points out in the quote above, it seems to suggest that further murders will follow on the anniversaries of the subsequent murders.

The idea of taking Holmes and having him come face-to-face with the Ripper, or someone deliberately emulating him, is not exactly unprecedented. I remember playing a PC game called The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes in the mid-90s which featured a murder that Lestrade wants to attribute to the Ripper (spoiler: it isn’t) and there have been plenty of other stories such as Big Finish’s Holmes and the Ripper or the movies A Study in Terror and Murder by Decree. Still, while it may have some familiar elements, I think there is enough novelty introduced here with the time gap between the original crimes and those being investigated that it avoids feeling derivative.

One of the reasons that I think this works is that the period setting contributes to the sense of fear surrounding the killer being at large. This was the era of the blackout meaning those who cannot help but be out at night will feel all the more at risk. This also helps build a sense of tension later in the book as our heroes attempt to patrol the streets in the dark in the hopes of preventing subsequent murders.

I think this is just one example of how the novel uses its historical setting well, drawing on elements of the period such as radio broadcasts, American GIs and air raid patrols to create a strong sense of place and time. It was this sort of material I most hoped to find in this book so I was happy to see that Harris made effective use of it and made the setting important to the story.

Harris’ Holmes similarly feels like a pretty solid evocation of the Rathbone portrayal of Holmes. He has the familiar moments of prickliness and brilliance but there are some moments of patriotism and advocacy of his principles that make him feel like that more conspicuously heroic version from the movie series. Similarly the language this Holmes uses reminds us that he is a mid-twentieth century man rather than a Victorian (or Edwardian) one.

Watson on the other hand has been presented with some slight differences from the Nigel Bruce portrayals in those movies. Harris’ Watson is still a little old-fashioned and formal in some social interactions but he never appears to be foolish or an overtly comedic creation which is, I feel, to be welcomed. He is however the warmth and the heart of the novel – something I feel he has in common with the Bruce portrayal of the character.

Several other familiar characters from the Holmes universe make their appearances with different degrees of attention. These include Mycroft, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson, all of whom struck me as not dissimilar from their traditional roles. I was far more interested in learning about the members of the Baker Street Irregulars, particularly their leader Wiggins who remains in London. This once again tied nicely into the novel’s historical setting but I also appreciated hearing how he felt about Holmes and the enormous sense of respect he feels for his hero.

These elements, combined with the novel’s setting, go a great way toward evoking that sense of the original movie series. This story offers some lighter moments, including a sort of awkward romance for Watson, as well as a solid hook in the idea of the copycat Ripper killer. As much as I enjoyed those elements however and the sense of nostalgia I felt, I did think that the novel was a little disappointing in the way it presents the investigative portion of the novel itself.

I know from my own readings (and re-readings) of the Doyle canon that Holmes’ stories often feel like they would be better labelled as adventures than mysteries. This is not much different. While there are some clues dotted around as to what has been happening, I feel much of the crucial work happens when we are not following Holmes and that we learn about some elements after the fact which can be unsatisfying at times.

I would also add that I found the solution to be a little disappointing, in part because the case ends up feeling quite simple with limited suspects and surprisingly few clues. While there are a few interesting applications of logic to make some deductions, the case felt over a little too quickly and seemed to be begging for another twist for its resolution. That being said, I was not unhappy with the pulpiness of the resolution which did at least seem to fit the general tone Harris was clearly aiming for.

In spite of those disappointments, I still enjoyed much of what this book had to offer. The central concept of writing more stories for this incarnation of Holmes is a great one and based on the evidence here and Harris’ confident handling of the character, I think it could easily sustain a series and I would certainly be interested in checking out any subsequent installments.

The Verdict: An entertaining, if rather light, read with a solid handle on its version of Holmes and the era he lives in.

The Lodger by Marie Belloc Lowndes

March 19, 2021

Originally published in 1913.
Expanded from a short story published in 1911.

One damp November evening on the Marylebone Road, a couple sits in silence. Though their thoughts are the same—money and the lack thereof—the time has long since passed when Mr. and Mrs. Bunting could find comfort in sharing their anxieties with each other. Now every word is a reproach—a reminder of luxuries forsaken and keepsakes pawned. Retired servants, the Buntings sunk every last shilling into their London lodging house. Now they are trapped. The rooms are empty, the rent is due, and ruin awaits. When the paper boys’ cry of “Horrible Murder! Murder at St. Pancras!” rings out in the street, Mr. Bunting risks his wife’s ire to buy the Evening Standard. The latest exploits of the killer known as the Avenger will give him something to think about besides his own misery.

Just when he is settling in with the paper, there is a knock at the door. Mr. Sleuth enters, seeking “quiet rooms” to rent. He bears no luggage, save one nearly empty leather bag, and his demeanor is odd, to say least. The beautiful sitting room on the second floor interests him not at all, but the obsolete gas stove on the underfurnished third floor is exactly what he has been looking for. Best of all, he wants to pay a month’s rent in advance. Mr. and Mrs. Bunting believe that the new lodger is a godsend until a dark fear grips their hearts. Could the strange Mr. Sleuth be the Avenger in disguise? And if he is, can they afford to know?

After suffering several unfortunate misfortunes, the respectable Buntings have found themselves on the brink of destitution. Following years in service the couple had attempted to open a lodging-house but have difficulty letting their rooms. This forces them to pawn almost everything of value including Mr. Bunting’s suit, leaves him unable to find occasional work.

Their prayers seem to be answered when a man turns up asking to see their rooms. After a brief examination he declares the rooms on the top floor to be satisfactory as a place to conduct his experiments but tells Mrs. Bunting that as he does not wish to be disturbed he will rent the rooms below as well, paying a full month in advance. He also insists that he should not be waited on and plans to make minimal demands of them, saying he will call for them if needed.

The new lodger, who calls himself Mr. Sleuth, is a strange fellow but they are certain that he must be a gentleman. His habit of creeping out in the middle of the night is odd but they are too happy at their return to financial security to question his behavior too much. It is only as they learn more about a spate of murders committed by a mysterious figure calling himself The Avenger that they separately start to wonder about the true nature of their lodger…

The Lodger was apparently conceived following a dinner when Lowndes spoke with a man who shared the story of how a pair of his father’s former servants believed a murderer had stayed at their lodging house before committing one of his crimes. Lowndes took inspiration from this to write a short story which was published in 1911 before being expanded into a novel two years later.

The story is a psychological one and I think you can make an argument that it is an inverted story, though it should be said that Lowndes spends much of the novel dealing in suspicion rather than statements of fact. The reader will likely assume that those suspicions are right, if only because if they’re not it wouldn’t be much of a tale, but it is inverted by inference rather than design. What is more important though is that Lowndes chooses to focus not on the details of the crimes but the responses of two bystanders who come to suspect the killer’s identity.

Why is that important? Lowndes is far more interested in the way her characters respond to a crime, particularly of the gory and sensational type that is shown here, than in exploring what happened. This is reflected in the text which avoids going into much detail about exactly what the Avenger does. We get a sense of what that may be through Mrs. Bunting’s distaste for the news reports and the tone of the newspaper headlines, but often we are shown their reaction to information rather than being told exactly what was said. As a technique I think this is rather effective as it allows the reader to project their own ideas onto the situation.

Some of those ideas the readers may well have drawn on would have had parallels in two then-recent cases: the Ripper murders in London and the crimes of Dr. Cream, the Lambeth Poisoner. Lowndes seems to have combined elements from both their crimes, depicting some of the press fervour of the Ripper crimes as well as the killer’s exclusive targeting of women while physically describing Cream and using ideas like his having committed crimes in multiple countries. From this basic framework, Lowndes then further develops her killer, giving him traits like a religious mania, extreme discomfort around women and a furtive and spiky personality, creating a pretty richly drawn character who is a striking and disconcerting presence whenever he is near.

While Sleuth is a strong presence, our empathy and focus falls on the Buntings. The early chapters do an excellent job of describing how they came to be in their situation and helping to connect the reader to their sense of desperation. This is teeing things up for later in the novel where we will need to accept their silence while retaining our sympathy for them – a tough ask but one I think Lowndes mostly achieves. Certainly I had no doubt that the couple really did face ruin without his money and I think she is very effective at conveying the gradual realization on the part of them that he could pose a danger to them.

What this means is that the book is structured to focus on a point of conflict where they will have to confront the nature of what they believe their lodger to be and decide what to do about it. This ought to be a really impactful moment and certainly we get a lot of buildup that really elevates the tension, creating a sense that we are headed for something explosive – an idea that seems to be confirmed by the choice of the location of that climactic sequence.

Unfortunately though I think Lowndes whiffs the ending. For all the dread generated in the lead up to these final chapters, the actual resolution struck me as highly frustrating and unsatisfying. I think the problem is that while she sets up the notion that the Buntings will have to make a choice, the resolution is quite different and done in such a way that we never have to see them make that hard choice.

In the short story that ending doesn’t bother me at all – it not only seems appropriate to the length of the piece, it also reflects that we have spent significantly less time exploring whether the Buntings will do something to act on their suspicions. That story felt really sharp and compact – two things that I do not think could be said of the novel. For that reason alone I would suggest that the short story is the more essential read.

Still, while the pacing can feel a little too slow and deliberate at points and the ending seemed to diminish the roles of our two protagonists, I do think this is an interesting and highly worthwhile read. It is a study in the creation of dread and I am happy to say it succeeds in keeping that up til the very end.

The Verdict: Though I prefer the tighter, punchier original short story, the book’s creation of dread is quite masterful.