The Hound of the Baskervilles

Not a travesty, this version of Conan-Doyle's most famous and most filmed novella opens in accordance with the printed version, with Matt Frewer as the world's first and only consulting detective, pacing around the room and dramatically throwing off hypotheses about the nature of the recent visitor who has left his walking stick behind. At that, the film limits the number of conclusions drawn by Holmes. (Eg., the breed of DOG that carried the walking stick for its master.)

All of this is attended by Kenneth Welsh as the skeptical Dr. Watson. I hate saying this because I wish all filmic preparations of the canon well. But if there is something tic-y and overripe about Frewer's portrayal of Holmes, there is something impassive and vacant about Welsh's Dr. Watson. He's barely there. Ever.

The movie follows the narrative fairly closely at first, even introducing us to Miss Laura Lyons, typist, whose role is given some importance. She's almost always deleted. The story leaves Conan-Doyle behind at the climax. He may still be struggling in one of those bottomless bogs in the Great Grimpin Mire for all we know. I won't describe it except to say that the hound isn't too terrifying.

The departures from the original narrative do some damage to the film as a whole. Too bad. Grenada TV's version, from the series with Jeremy Britt, is frankly better.