A Comparison of Two Sherlock Holmes Movies of the Silent Era and How They Influenced Our Modern Perception of Sherlock Holmes
I was asked to supply this month’s blog post after it had been discovered that I have an extensive collection of physical media concerning the great detective. Of course, I have the usual suspects: the Basil Rathbone Collection, the Jeremy Brett Granada Series, the Ronald Howard Series, Benedict Cumberbatch’s modern version of Sherlock; but I also include Peter Cushing’s BBC series, what there is of it, and George C. Scott’s take on the detective in They Might Be Giants. I have documentaries and selections of rare early variations of Holmes. Any of these could show up as reviews in future blog posts, but today I will focus on two from the silent era, both identified as Sherlock Holmes.
The first dramatization of Sherlock Holmes came in the late 1890s. Doyle had attempted his own theatrical version of Holmes, but by the time interest in a play about Holmes was generated, Doyle himself became disinterested and let the project drop. Backers had heard that another gentleman, the American actor William Gillette, was also working on a play adaptation of Doyle’s work. In 1899, the play, Sherlock Holmes, starring William Gillette, opened in the West End of London. Although Gillette had been popular as an actor before, it was Holmes that gave him fame for the rest of his life. He became Holmes to generations before Basil Rathbone. It was fated that Gillette would have to play Holmes in the motion picture adaptation of the play. In 1916, Sherlock Holmes was released to the public by Essanay Film Manufacturing Company. Over the years, it became a victim of time and the evolution of talking pictures. It was lost to the public until the restoration and release of a French copy of the film in 2015. This is the version that is available on Blu-ray and DVD from Flicker Alley.
Before I discuss the canon of the film, let me briefly explain my fascination for the play. In my undergraduate years in the early 1980s, I had the privilege of being offered the role of Moriarty in our college production of the play. I wanted the role of Holmes, but my evil side won out. To say the least, my rivalry against the actor cast as Holmes was very real and believable. It was at this time that I first learned of that aspect of the play that modern audiences complain the most about. In Gillette’s play, Holmes falls in love. Sacrilege! The famous anecdote is that Gillette felt that theatre audiences needed a love story. He wrote to Doyle asking if he could marry off Holmes. Supposedly, Doyle wrote back something to the effect that he could marry him or murder him for all he cared. At that time, Doyle had thrown Holmes over Reichenbach with no thought of bringing him back, even in flashback form, as he does in The Hound of The Baskervilles. That was later, so to Doyle, Holmes was done.
To be honest, I am like most modernists and am suspicious of a lovelorn Sherlock Holmes. As an actor and sometime director, though, I see the potential in the script. I have my old working script, and the original script on the DVD copy of the Gillette movie. I noticed that some changes were evident between the scripts. The script I had was taken from the Royal Shakespeare Company’s revival in the 1970s. This newer version kept all the dialogue but added a few transition scenes to give more of a flavor of Victorian London. The biggest scene change comes at the end. In the original version, Holmes and Alice Faulkner (the stand in for Irene Adler) are saying goodbye after having outwitted Moriarty. Holmes admits his love for Miss Faulkner and she leans into him. The lights fade as they embrace. In the Shakespeare Company’s version, the same dialogue exists, but Alice reaches into her purse and presents Holmes with the iconic Meerschaum pipe. In both versions, the time is days before his journey to Reichenbach with Watson. A long-term affair is doomed to failure in either version. All is well.
Okay, if you are not familiar with the story, it is an adaptation of “A Scandal in Bohemia” and “The Final Problem.” In the play, Irene Adler is replaced by Alice Faulkner, the sister of an adventuress who has compromising letters from an heir to an unnamed country with direct ties to the royal family. The adventuress is killed but gives the evidence to Alice who is determined to use the letters to blackmail her sister’s former fiancé. Although the dialogue shows Alice as a typical nineteenth century ingenue, she is smart and industrious, much like Holmes himself. One scene in the movie that is not in the play is very telling. After Holmes discovers the hiding place of the letters by the usual fire trick, he gives them back to her to try and convince her to do the right thing and return them on her own. He knows that he would be guilty of theft. The letters are legally Alice’s property. Holmes knows such a devious trick would never hold up in court if Alice pressed the matter. Holmes is certain he can convince her to acquiesce if given the chance. Alice is seen in the movie hiding the letters in a gutter outside of her window, something that indicates her cleverness. She really is a match for Holmes.
This brings me to the second silent feature, another version of the same play. This one was produced in 1922 by Goldwyn Pictures to capitalize on their new matinee idol, John Barrymore. Barrymore had already taken Hollywood by storm with his electric performance of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in 1920. This time he was to take on the world’s most famous detective. I’m sure he tried to talk the producers into taking on both Holmes and Moriarty. The Moriarty in this production bears a striking resemblance to Barrymore’s interpretation of Mr. Hyde. He didn’t win the debate. The role was played by popular character actor, Gustav von Seyffertitz. The concession to losing the battle was the introduction of not one but two dramatic meetings between Holmes and Moriarty.
The cinematic qualities of the 1922 production are evident throughout. There is a dark, atmospheric environment. The use of shadows is quite effective. The one fault that shows up most prominently is in the casting of Barrymore as Holmes. He is about as far removed from Doyle and Gillette’s vision of Holmes as Robert Downey, Jr. is for modern audiences. Barrymore takes every opportunity to appear handsome and promote his profile. He is slow to move and shows little of the intellect that Gillette captured so well in his interpretation.
The Barrymore movie has an addition that some may or may not appreciate seeing, the introduction of Holmes and Watson as classmates at Cambridge. We first see Holmes lounging under a tree transcribing the famous list of faults and abilities described by Watson in A Study in Scarlet. He first meets Alice Faulkner as he uncharacteristically falls off a ladder and stumbles in front of Alice’s carriage on campus. They are immediately attracted to each other. Ah, Hollywood! Watson, interestingly played by Roland Young of Topper fame, talks Holmes into helping a fellow classmate who is being falsely accused of stealing a valuable gem from Alice’s father, the president of the college. Holmes finds the true perpetrator and traces him to Moriarty, leading to the first meeting between the two rivals.
We jump to Baker Street years later when Count von Stahlberg approaches Holmes with the task of finding and returning lost letters between Rose Faulkner, Alice’s sister, and the young prince, the classmate Holmes had previously helped, who is now sole heir to a royal throne after his two older brothers are killed in an accident. The jilted Rose Faulkner commits suicide and sends the letters to Alice. Now the play begins. The extended prologue is interesting, but it manages to cut into the play to the point of rushing through. There is very little character development. Holmes foils Moriarty and has him arrested. He falls firmly in love with Alice and even announces his engagement in front of Watson. At least Gillette had the propriety of only suggesting a long-term relationship outside of Watson’s purview.
So, how are any aspects of these films part of Doyle’s canon? In terms of literary aspects, the two films are not canon. In terms of their influence on our modern perception of Holmes, they are not only canon to us but also to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. After Doyle gave in to public pressure and resurrected the great detective, his persona was clearly shaped by the shadow of William Gillette. Gillette’s hawklike appearance and energetic heroics feed into later interpretations of Holmes. Rathbone is a brilliant combination of Doyle, Paget, and Gillette. Barrymore may not be a match, but the cinematic mystery in the Goldwyn production does highlight aspects that all future interpretations of Holmes’s material will draw upon.
To those unfamiliar with it, the play Sherlock Holmes is worth looking into. These two films may not be what we are used to, but they do give us a taste of what past generations knew as Sherlock Holmes. For those who may be interested, Orson Welles interpreted the play for his Mercury Theatre radio series as The Immortal Sherlock Holmes. It is a truncated version of the play with all the main scenes except the love story at the end. To get an idea of how Gillette may have sounded as Holmes, there is a five-minute segment of scenes from Sherlock Holmes starring William Gillette for the Lux Radio in the 1930s, weeks before his death. The voice is a little shaky, but the power is still there and can easily be imagined. Both can be found on Internet Archives. I hope you find these additions to Doyle as enjoyable as I always have and appreciate the canon that is not canon.
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