The Treasure of Agra - Concluding Article
The Treasure of Agra - article 3.
Or - The Curious case of the Dog in the Daytime.
The conclusion to The Treasure of Agra opens in an unexpected fashion - no plunge into the mystery, no pre-credit teaser of the sort contemporary television might now expect.
Instead, The episode opens on the satisfied dozing face of Solomin's Watson, sat relaxing by the cheery fireside once more in Baker Street.
Holmes stands by the mantlepiece playing the violin and in a thoughtful mood, the suggestion being that his music has lulled Watson to sleep, like a child. This paternal emphasis is very strong throughout the Len-Film series and is the natural extension of the film-maker's philosophy that Holmes is always reliable. The aura of safety within Baker Street is perhaps one reason for the series (and indeed the original stories) success. Narrative aside, the adventures are fairy stories told around the fire by the comforting father figure of Holmes.
This sort of paternalism, which can be both comforting and stifling, was a hallmark of the Victorian times...
It is tempting for a Westerner to see something Russian in this - the country having been ruled by Tsars and Male leaders of the USSR, but truthfully it can be seen as much in Europe and the UK and is still present, Gandalf is father to the child-like Hobbits for example, or Obi Wan Kenobi's relationship with Luke Skywalker. It is interesting from a psychological point of view, how often an adult audience or readership is asked to identify itself as a child. But certainly, in the realm of fairy and folk tales it is one reason why such things have never died out - in this sense Holmes takes on a mythic dimension and a place in the pantheon of Gods and Heroes, regardless of the ethnicity of the reader or television viewer. Holmes becomes an archetype; The Guide, The Hermit and the protecting hero.
However, within the narrative itself, Holmes is in a reflective mood - his eye catching the portrait of Irene Adler as he plays, stops and remembers...
All of which is non-canonical and might well put off a casual viewer familiar with the Holmes of Doyle. The scene itself is lovingly rendered , the crackle and glow of the fire, the Checkovian autumnal colour tone of Baker Street itself, the music. The camera movements are smooth, tracking past Watson and shifting up and into the mantle - visual short-hand for 'we going into something else here'.
The photograph - and the play between it and Livanov's expressive face.
Without a doubt, this episode belongs to Livanov - everyone else revolves around him, even Watson has less to do and less time on screen. He HAS to be - if the viewer is going to follow the story, from the Agra treasure and on to a new case entirely, without being annoyed at the changes.
And so we are introduced to the count of Bohemia. His costume is a decent enough match to Doyle's description if not the absolute imitation of Paget that we see in the Granada version.
The character itself is more supercilious and comic*, less blustering than the figure in the Granada adaptation.
In this mini-case we see a pale Livanov in his chair, very much 'Sherlock Holmes'. He is thoughtful - intelligent, wary and a little suspicious of nobility, with his narrowed gaze and subtle shrinking back into his seat. Note also the use of mirror shots, very nicely realised without them being an essential visual element (ala Granada, where, to some, the use of mirrors seemed over done).
After the man's departure there is a lovely underplayed comic 'frieze' Holmes and Watson (stiff in their chairs), very much a "No Comment" moment.
Holmes is, as usual, quickly on the case following the Count and adopting disguise to spy on Irene Adler. Livanov in disguise is always a comic pleasure, although his costume here (and see Jonathan Small, below,) is almost a Tove Jansen fantasy.
Holmes sees Adler as she exits a house. Note: Some of the houses may strike the Western viewer as appearing to be not very 'English', but at that time there was a very great variation in building styles and many had a European or eccentric design, especially in the suburbs of London and in the towns of the North. The rounded house for example - is certainly like many in Manchester.
As for Adler's entrance, it is definitely a romantic one; filmed in slow motion, with the music swelling as Holmes is literally entranced - (another close up of Livanov acting purely with his face,) this is easily the most 'romantic' scene in a Holmes production since Billy Wilder's Private Life... and if wasn't for Livanov the scene would not work (for me) at all, as it is I still have reservations about the effectiveness of the scene.
Now it should be noted that Irene Adler is American, compare her with Sir Henry in the Len-film Hound and it is clear that allegations of 'US caricature' are not true.
However, striking though she be, (her dyed hair and vaguely 'european-looking' clothing set her apart) she is given what is essentially a cameo role. There are some very atmospheric sequences in the fog, both here - as the cab rides off into the mist - and later at the docks when Holmes is in pursuit of Small.
Holmes at the misty docklands
The church is perhaps too big (check pic) but what a beautiful location, it reminds me of the church interior from The Noble Bachelor. It is possible to compare this sequence with the tiny church in the BBC's FingerSmith and with the average church used in the new Dr Who (series one) - both of which are far less decorative and more typically 'English looking.
Of course it is here that Holmes - very much being the man of honour, bends the letter of the law in order to be witness to the marriage, whilst still in disguise.
Watson is very much amused by Holmes* - but Livanov using his remarkable voice is genuinely very pained. Listen to the way he says 'Irene Adler'. Watson is looking at him and Holmes is gazing away into his minds eye. A very moving scene. Indeed, this sub-plot is played almost as a tragedy - each emotional moment buiding on the last. The scene where Holmes slowly takes off his 'Priest' disguise being yet another.
Naturally, romantic intrusions into the adventures of Holmes are not likely to please everyone - but it should be borne in mind that even in the earliest of Holmes productions this was the case. Most famously, William Gillette married Holmes off - and with Conan Doyle's blessing.
Holmes - married!
William Gillette's performance and production were popular and also praised by Conan-Doyle.
Once the Adler case comes to its conclusion (and the narrative here is not the clearest) there is an eventual link to Watson in romantic mode. And so the two strands of the story reflect one another. We see Watson with Mary Morstan and chaperone (a neat touch of authenticity) during the day, in a an airy golden drawing room (contrasting with the gloom around Holmes). And for added levity there is another appearance of the dog 'Tory'. The dog seems to have been chosen entirely to provide amusement being the farthest one could get from the mongrel hound dog of the novel. In Agra pt1 the small dog manages a surprising turn of speed, forcing Holmes and Watson to run behind. Solomin's ability to talk whilst jogging in a stiff military manner is indeed humourous - but also somewhat distracting. However, this scent does lead to the tar barrel and the viewer is granted some nice views of the river sidings; broken buildings, rusted pieces of metal and old wood etc in the autumn light. And it does look rather like the Thames estuary. But as for the dog himself - well, the inclusion of such an animal is a curious thing, and unnecessary. Yet here he is again in Pt 2.
There follows some awkward exposition as Watson re-tells the Agra story to remind those viewers who may be confused. This points out the biggest flaw in the Adler sub-plot. With time taken up by the Scandal in Bohemia, there is a good chance a viewer will have lost track of the original case - and it leaves little time for that case to come to a climax.
Lestrade is brought back, (rather than the Athelney Jones of the book) again for primarily comic purposes. This caricature is as old as that of the bumbling Watson and it's origins and maintenance are equally mysterious. Still, the actor is likeable enough, with his ridiculous moustache - and it allows Watson a subtler sort of comedy than he might otherwise have been given (as with Hound)..
This image of Holmes, by Paget,
always reminds me of Livanov.
Holmes arrives in his final disguise for a brief turn as a wheezy sailor - and it is a shame we don't get to see this character out and about. Just as the production misses the chance to have Wiggins and the Irregulars involved fully.
The finale comes rapidly; The waterside and boat chase scenes have let down many a Sign of Four production - but not in the Russian Agra. From Holmes tense energy to the frustration of waiting and waking on the blue misty dawn - followed by the pursuit itself. This is one of the best sequences in the series as a whole; as the camera cuts between the swift moving tiny craft, the chattering pistons and the three slueths, Holmes, Watson and Lestrade all bening over their pistols in the same tight camera shot. The ending is a brief chase on land with some policeman, very authentic appearing with the exception of their white gloves - which seem wrong, I'm fairly certain the gloves would have been black in actuality.
What follows then is all as Doyle wrote. It's a relief to see no undue emphasis on Tonga - (who in some productions is turned into a virtual goblin) and there is a strong performance from Serg(u)ey Shakurov as Small. Again he fits Doyle's descriptions in a loose sense; the determined expression, the beard - even if he lacks the dark curly hair. His appearance is scarecrow like - which I think is deliberate since Tonga is made to look similar with ragged clothes and straw like hair.
Doyle also gives Small a 'restless eye' whereas here the man has a powerful and focused gaze. By the time his story is finished - it is easy to believe that he has come through much purely by the strength of his will. As to the truth of his tale - it is hard to say, this Small keeps a firm lock on himself and the viewer is likely to find their reaction to him somewhat ambiguous.
The compelling Jonathan Small.
The actor actually looks a lot like Englishman Julian Glover.
This is also because, once again, there are no flashbacks to the Indian Revolt, or to the island prison.
And so the case is closed - Holmes has caught the criminal, a 'successful success' perhaps, Mary Morstan may not receive the treasure of Agra itself but there is no further shadow hanging over her.
And what of the viewer - the Western viewer in this case.
Well, I have to admit to mixed feelings with 'The treasure of Agra'. The sub-plot with Adler is well presented and Livanov gives an excellent humanising portrayal of Holmes (perhaps the most human since the under-rated Christopher Plummer) but it could easily have been a separate story as Doyle intended (THE Woman is hardly three dimensional here and many of the other characters remain undeveloped) - and it takes away from those elements of Sign of Four, deduction and pursuit that are worth savouring. I am at a loss as to why one of the greatest and most famous moments from the book, with Holmes deducing the history of a watch, was used in an earlier story and so is excised from this adaptation, where it belongs.
On the other hand, the direction is solid, picking up tremendously for the end, the cast are uniformly good and Livanov gives an especially praiseworthy performance. Episode one really is very fine - dark and intriguing, after such a start pt 2 would have to go a long way and, for this reviewer, the second episode doesn't quite live up. That is not to say it was not entertaining - and, as a whole, is preferable to some other existing screen versions of Doyle's novel.
Indeed, the worst judgement I can make is to say - it is not quite as good as many of the other episodes in the Russian 'Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson.'
* yet the tone of the whole is serious.
Here are some thoughts and reactions comparing Len-Film productions with others.
Firstly there is the question of how well the adventures adapt Conan Doyle.
I think the answer is that they sought to recapture the spirit of Doyle, the sense of adventure, the game afoot. In this they have succeeded admirably - for as I sit down to watch each new episode I am excited in the same way original viewers must have been. Perhaps such an observation seems... elementary, but this is far from the case. Just as a story by Doyle himself, or Dickens, Borges, Kafka, Chekhov , Chesterton seems simple and easy the effort behind is pure hard labour. So it is with the Len-Film Holmes. Like any Westerner I expected a difficult viewing, I expected to be confused - and for the characters to seem perhaps 'alien'.
In this, I was as intelligent as Lestrade.
The series has immediate charm and vitality - in all senses the production has clearly been made with a very great effort. It is so easy to take for granted the shaded tones of colour, the detailed layering of the costumes, the often stark and low-key performances (with some exceptions). And yet this is a nonsense - the art design, the props, the costumes - all are of cinematic quality.
The camera work - so unobtrusive yet key to the telling not only of the story but the characters within the story. I am thinking of the way the camera stays at the foot of Sir Henry's bed like a mournful visitor as Mortimer tries to comfort him before his exile from England and Baskerville hall. The way the often slow camera quickens its pace to hurry alongside the redoubtable Mrs Hudson. The navigation of the Baker Street apartments - smoothly tracking through a very complex set. And in fact (without seeing the architectural drawings) that set itself is a testament to a quality of effort. So cunningly constructed along a series of recessed diagonal planes, so the viewer can seem in the middle of the action. It is like the secret cabinet of Milverton, one turn and a whole new vista is displayed.
A British viewer of today (see below) tends to expect a good Baker Street - but also the moors, the streets of London, steam trains, Reichenbach - a host of things. And all to be found in Len-Film.
And what of the question of adaptation? Firstly it should be borne in mind that up until the Granada presentation, faithfulness to Doyle was not necessarily expected. Secondly it must be asked - in what sense adaptation? The structure of a story, the plot? The characters - situations and settings? Or something more - something elusive, the spirit of the stories and the qualities of the prose.
In those terms the Len-Film production (and its devotees) can be justly proud. For here IS Holmes the adventurer, Holmes the intellect - here is the warm but not always easy bond between the Detective and his 'friend and colleague', Dr Watson. In the scripts there is a large amount of Doyle's own dialogue - something that actors elsewhere often had to fight for - and indeed add themselves (Cushing in the 1960s for example or Brett in the later episodes of his series).
Such use of the source material is very refreshing. And what of Holmes and Watson themselves? I have spoken of the excellence of their performance - but it must be re-stated that the production as a whole is designed to compliment them - and to allow a Watson who finally has a quickness of mind, a military baring, a temper and a loyalty all to be found in the stories, but so rarely on-screen. Until Len-Film, Watson had almost always been a bumbler, an oaf - and the victim of many cruel jokes.
Watson may not be Holmes - but he is his own man, with his own attributes - Sherlock would not share a home and his adventures with an idiot.
The episodes themselves however are not slaves to the letter of Doyle's law. The adaptations are fairly 'free', often merging the stories into one. Some times this works (The Acquaintance, for example) sometimes not - as in Agra. The Granada series is still the most faithful in that regard - and yet even that series deviated from Doyle in its last few years.
And so do other presentations still; The recent Hounds from the US (with Fruer) and the UK (with Roxburgh) are both examples of adaptations where familiar elements have been discarded in an attempt to create something new and fresh - forgetful of the fact that the freshness and the novelty are to be found in the stories themselves.
And of the representation of Holmes himself? Holmes has become over the years an enigma - every new additional to the lists of his adventures be it book, play or film shows a different mix of his characteristics. This should not surprise an audience familiar with the stories - wherein Watson himself frequently comments on the difficulty of defining such a paradoxical man*. And given the many years and the countless illustrators - even the physical aspects of Holmes blur and change with the times. And it could well be argued that only two actors (George C. Scott and Tom Baker) actually fit Doyle's description to any great degree. But Livanov is a master of subtly BECOMING Holmes - the more I have watched, the more I have begun to see Livanov in the Paget illustrations - which at first I have said was impossible. And I am someone who was conditioned by the early series of Granada, where images from the series morph-ed into the Paget equivalents, before the USA distribution put an end to that.
This invites audiences to identify with a particular 'Holmes' of their choice - in a very partisan fashion! And it also allows Holmes to become owned internationally and to move between media from The Strand Magazine to modern computer games.
Yet truly, the question should be - does the actor capture the essence of the Holmes wanted by the production? The answer may be 'yes, very well' and it is then up to the viewer to decide on their view of the whole. In this way as a viewer myself I can consider Rathbone an excellent Holmes, Cushing (most especially in the Hammer film of Baskerville), and I can admire the differences in portrayals such as Plummer's and Neville's for example, as much as any similarity.
And so with Len-Film and Livanov. The series can be complimented on Holmes dressing gown - the mousy brown of the stories, or criticised for the incorrect pipe and hat, but such observations tell little of what the audience actually sees; a moral and human Holmes, capable of suddenly withdrawing into himself, but still always warm and emotional. His feelings for Irene Adler, his bravery as he waves Watson away just before his fight with Moriarty. "Don't forget Moran!" He urges, a hero to the end.
The Acquaintance, shows us his scientific knowledge, and Red and Black his deductive skill. It is however, sometimes true that both elements are under-used elsewhere. Perhaps the chance to do more stories would have allowed this.
He does lack some of the darkness that the Granada Holmes was able to explore, black moods, cocaine, emotional coldness. And I would say that Brett conveys more of the moodiness and sudden reversals that Doyle put into the stories. The rising tone of voice, the sudden high laugh, throwing himself onto the floor to look for clues etc. But such things were never the Len-Film intention it would appear. The Russian Holmes seeks to be a reassuring figure. Such things may be derided as 'bland' or 'too comfortable' by some - but they are often loved for much the same reasons. Holmes stories around the fire - whether in print on radio or film... this 'cosyness' has always been a factor in Sherlock's ongoing appeal. It may not have been Conan Doyle's intention but neither is it alienating as some have found the individualised performances of Brett, Everett and others.
The series is full of interesting cameos - though sometimes the theatricality of these, compare to the performances of Livanov and Solomin (e.g. Sir Henry, Moriarty) can be distracting at times to a viewer. And on occasional these characters are underdeveloped.
Some viewers in the west have been critical of the music. The reason for this is that the eclectic use of instruments and styles, in a vaguely 'European' fashion has long been spoofed (in the UK especially), for example Bands like The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band and The Scaffold.
However, after a few viewings the skill behind the scoring of the series becomes clear. If less striking than the score from The Granada series, it is still a soundtrack I could happily listen to at home - and it is a unique feature of the Len-Film show.
If anyone is interested in my personal listing it is currently thus:
Len-Film , the version of the Hound is very watchable - whereas many productions are weak.
I am a great fan of Granada and of Jeremy Brett, but that version is really quite poor and I would prefer to watch the Russian. Certainly it is better (to me) than the Richardson, Baker or Roxburgh versions. It may seem strange to a Russian audience but it should be pointed out that, Granada apart, there have been few Holmes series or films that have used genuine locations or recreations. Granada, based in the North of England had easy access to Steam Trains, stations, rural houses and Moorland. Previously production had been far more interior set, the Tom Baker Hound, The Cushing Series (and others) used exteriors infrequently. The Len-film series in making the most of the outdoors actually resembles the Granada series more than might be expected.
The Treasure of Agra, although a little disappointing in the second part and lacking the creepy discovery scenes from the Granada version is again preferable to many productions, especially the Richardson version with its crude personification of Tonga, and a mangled plot. And the steam boat chase is better than Granada's which is painfully slow whilst the actors are forced to yell, "Faster! We're gaining now!" and other witless improvisations.
The King of Blackmailers is possibly my favourite episode from Len-Film and quite a thorough adaptation, here the inclusion of Mycroft (and elements of The Greek Interpreter and Bruce Partington Plans) works very well. I was taken aback by how much the Granada version (one of that series later episodes) is clearly based upon it.
The Acquaintance and Red and White have the fortunate distinction of being taken from Doyle stories only rarely adapted and therefore cannot be so easily compared. Here I especially liked the warmth between Livanov and Solomin - and the scenes of deduction. Also Livanov get the chance to use his comic skills in the laboratory scenes.
I found both Mortal Fight and The Hunt for the Tiger (The Final Problem/Empty House) to be exciting and moving - and again good adaptations. I liked the use of scenery in Fight very much and the final confrontation with Moriarty was gripping, even if it took me a while to get used to a version of Moriarty who resembles more Dr Caligari than anything else. And here, Granada scored highly because Eric Portman is an absolutely amazing actor who transforms entirely into both the Paget Moriarty visually - and the Doyle Moriarty in manner, the reptilian movements of his head for example.
And so as I reach the end of my articles on Holmes it remains only to say - that I feel privileged to have had the chance to watch and comment on such a marvellous show. And that I hope many others will do so in times to come.
The Russian Sherlock Holmes is simply that. And everyone concerned with his creation can be rightly proud.
*as of course does the self absorbed Holmes, who says of Watson "I never get your range, I never guess your limits."
Art has no frontiers.
Thank you Alek Morse and Alex Kraine...
You have been the real Great Detectives in this casebook.