Parky At the Pictures (12/12/2025)

(Reviews of Silent Sherlock: Three Classic Cases; Baby; and Christmas, Again)

SILENT SHERLOCK: THREE CLASSIC CASES.

Christmas has come early for Holmesians, as the BFI has released Silent Sherlock: Three Classic Cases into cinemas to launch the roll out of the 45 shorts and two features that Eille Norwood made for Stoll Pictures in the 1920s. The entire catalogue has been painstakingly restored and this 73-minute package suggests that cinema lovers have a real treat in store, whether the remainder of the series is presented in regular big-screen batches or in a collectible boxed set.

Norwood was 60 when he signed up to play Sherlock Holmes and no one has played the role on film more often, although both Jeremy Brett and Jonny Lee Miller have surpassed his tally on television. Taking visual cues from the Strand magazine illustrations of Sidney Paget, Norwood made such an impression as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's consulting detective that the author enthused, `He has that rare quality, which can only be described as glamour, which compels you to watch an actor eagerly even when he is doing nothing. He has the brooding eye which excites expectation and he has also a quite unrivalled power of disguise.'

James Bragington had been the first British Holmes, in George Pearson's long lost, A Study in Scarlet (1914). But Norwood clearly gave the role some thought, as he revealed in an article for Stoll's Editorial News in May 1921. `My idea of Holmes.' he wrote, `is that he is absolutely quiet. Nothing ruffles him, but he is a man who intuitively seizes on points without revealing that he has done so, and nurses them with complete inaction until the moment when he is called upon to exercise his wonderful detective powers. Then he is like a cat - the person he is after is the only person in all the world, and he is oblivious of everything else till his quarry is run to earth. The last thing in the world that he looks like is a detective. There is nothing of the hawk-eyed sleuth about him. His powers of observation are but the servant of his powers of deduction, which enable him, as it were, to see around corners, and cause him, incidentally, to be constantly amused at the blindness of his faithful Watson, who is never able to understand his methods.'

This is an invaluable insight into Norwood's approach to the role that he defined on screen before Basil Rathbone embarked upon his 14 1940s outings alongside Nigel Bruce's Dr Watson. Noted for his ability to transform himself with make-up, Norwood certainly looks the part and would later sport a dressing-gown gifted to him by Conan Doyle himself. He's backed in this triptych by Hubert Willis, who very much plays a subservient role as the faithful companion who is lost in admiration at his friend's feats of deduction.

Directed by Maurice Elvey, A Scandal in Bohemia (1921) was the seventh in the original series of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Notably making use of contemporary street scenes (which Conan Doyle disliked), the story opens with Holmes and Watson being visited at 221B Baker Street by a mysterious masked man. He reveals himself to be the King of Bohemia (Alfred Drayton) and he asks Holmes to retrieve a photograph taken with the actress, Irene Adair (Joan Beverley), that he fears might jeopardise his forthcoming nuptials if it came to light.

Having intuited that Adair would keep such an item close to hand if she intended to blackmail the king, Holmes visits the theatre to see her in action. He discovers that she is romancing the dashing Godfrey Norton (Miles Mander) and wonders if they are in cahoots. Disguising himself as Adair's leading man, Holmes incapacitates her on the stage and Watson rushes forward to tend to her. But, despite bribing her maid, the pair are unable to procure the picture and even a cunning ruse at her residence fails to bring success. However, a note left by the amused actress reveals that she has destroyed the image because she is about to marry herself and Holmes is left in admiration by the woman who has outsmarted him.

Nicely scored by Joseph Havlat, this meticulously staged, but rather uneventful saga is quickly followed by George W. Ridgewell's The Golden Pince-Nez (1922), which was the penultimate case in the 15-strong series, The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. The estimable Neil Brand composed the music for this two-reeler, which takes Holmes and Watson to Yoxley Old Place in Kent after Inspector Hopkins (Teddy Arundell) tells them about the murder of a bed-ridden professor's secretary, who was left clutching a pair of pince-nez spectacles. Having peered through the lenses, Holmes declares that the owner is a woman with a thick nose and puckered forehead, whose eyes are very close together.

The maid doesn't match this description, but Holmes elicits from her that Professor Coram (Cecil Morton York) has been eating more heartily than usual. He also finds footprints on the front lawn and scratch marks on a bureau drawer, and is intrigued by the cigarette ash on the carpet in Coram's bedroom. Having exposed a hiding place behind a bookcase, Holmes learns from the professor's estranged wife, Anna (Norma Whalley), that she had stabbed Willoughby Smith in a panic, while trying to retrieve some documents that would prove the innocence of the nihilist friend who had been betrayed to the police (along with herself) by her husband.

The precision with which Holmes operates is prioritised here, as keen observation and cool logic combine to make sense of the evidence that has baffled Watson and Hopkins. The same tone characterises Ridgewell's The Final Problem (1923), which is the concluding entry in The Last Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Music by Joanna MacGregor adds a touch of sombre suspense, as Holmes is targeted by Professor Moriarty (Percy Standing), who is tired of his schemes being thwarted. He even comes to Baker Street to threaten the sleuth's life and he makes plans to flee to the continent with Watson.

Adopting a disguise that completely fools his partner, Holmes realises that his scheme to have Moriarty arrested with his gang has failed and that his nemesis has followed him across the Channel. Eager to protect Watson, Holmes sends him on a bogus errand and confronts Moriarty on the rocks above the Reichenbach Falls and Watson is forced to conclude that both men have perished after plummeting following a life or death tussle.

This is a curious title to include in the initial selection from the Stoll roster, but it's admirably staged by George Ridgewell, who chose Cheddar Gorge as the stand-in for the Swiss landscape. Challis N. Sanderson nimbly edits Alfred H. Moise's evocative, if resolutely static cinematography, cutting in for regular close-ups of Norwood wrapped in concentration. As in all three stories, Walter W. Murton's sets are also splendid, with the immaculately decorated Baker Street study being widely copied by subsequent productions.

Given that these films were being made at the same time that Impressionism was emerging in France and Expressionism had already taken firm hold in Germany, they cannot be claimed as works of great cinematic art. However, they provide a window into the state of British film in the early 1920s and the nature of public taste. More importantly, by gaining Conan Doyle's approval, these two-reelers helped shape the way in which Sherlock Holmes was presented on screen for the next eight decades. It's only since Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes (2009) put a revisionist spin on the character and paved the way for the likes of the BBC's Sherlock (2010-17), CBS's Elementary (2012-19), and other series that have sought to hook new audiences on the timeless exploits of Holmes and Watson.

BABY.

Not many film-makers start out as casting directors. But Marcelo Caetano fulfilled this role on Kleber Mendonça Filho's Aquarius (2016) and Bacurau (2019) before making his directorial debut with Body Electric (2017). That film's theme of finding a niche in an alternative family recurs in Baby, an assured meld of sensual queer melodrama and grittily compassionate social realism.

Released from the juvenile prison where he had been part of the brass band, 18 year-old Wellington (João Pedro Mariano) returns to São Paulo to discover that his parents have moved and not left a forwarding address. Wearing a red anorak donated by a neighbour, he is menaced by a cop for sleeping on a subway station bench and is relieved to hook up with some of his old friends in the park. They accuse him of killing five people by starting a fire at his old school, but he denies the claims.

Gatecrashing a porn cinema, Wellington gets separated from his pals as they deal drugs and he makes the acquaintance of Ronaldo (Ricardo Teodoro), an escort who suggests that he would be perfect for a visit for a voyeur client. They go for food after Wellington crashes until closing time and Ronaldo inquires about the scars on his torso, as they kiss and cuddle back at his room. At 42 and with a 13 year-old son of his own, he feels protective towards the teenager, but he also recognises that he could be good for business.

Thus, when Wellington gets cross when the voyeur puts his fist in his mouth during their show and he lashes out, Ronaldo urges him to stop being such a baby and accept that there are worse things than a little humiliation with a rich man. Adopting the nickname, `Baby', Wellington learns to box and comes to trust Ronaldo, who works out each day to keep his body trim. He also takes pity on the boy when he falls ill after a session at the sauna and even tracks down his mother's phone number and listens anxiously while they discuss the fact that his cop father despises him.

Ronaldo introduces Wellington to his baby mother, Priscila (Ana Flavia Cavalcanti), who lives with her girlfriend, Jana (Bruna Linzmeyer). They get along famously, although Ronaldo has misgivings when Wellington smokes crack with coke dealer Torres (Luis Bertazzo) and his lover. He warns him that he'll end up toothless and homeless, but Wellington assures him that he's got everyting under control.

However, Wellington is becoming resentful of Ronaldo's insistence that they work all the time and that he keeps his distance from the dangerous Torres. One night, Wellington defies Ronaldo and goes clubbing with his friends. He hooks up with Alexandre (Marcelo Varzea) and brushes Ronaldo aside when he tries to prevent them from leaving together. Seduced by nice clothes and a fancy apartment, Wellington feels sorry for Alexandre, when he says his generation has it easy and doesn't have to go sneaking behind the backs of wives to have casual sex with men. But Alexandre is furious when he learns that Wellington has been in prison and he cancels a birthday trip to Rio and tries to snatch back a new phone on ending their week-long relationship.

Finding Ronaldo with a broken ankle and in debt to Torres over some broken drug vials, Wellington offers to mediate. He celebrates his birthday with Priscila and Jana and plays video games on his phone with Allan (Victor Hugo Martins). As Ronaldo has fallen behind with maintenance payments, Jana suggests he washes hair in her salon.

After Wellington blows out his candles, Ronaldo and Priscila drive him to see his aunt and she breaks the news that he has a baby sister. His cousins texts his mother, who comes to meet him and struggles to hold back the tears. But, while he enjoys being with his family, Wellington knows he belongs with Ronaldo and he returns to the city and agrees to see Torres on his behalf to settle their feud. When he spurns Torres's advances, he gives him a packet of coke and signals for two motorcycle cops to bust him. Wellington is driven to the outskirts and made to kneel in the glow of the headlamps. But he's spared because his father was a cop and he returns, badly shaken, to Priscila's flat, where he refuses to see Ronaldo, as he thinks he betrayed him.

Months pass and Wellington busks on buses with his queer and non-binary friends (Patrick Coelho, Kyra Reis, and Baco Pereira). One day, he spots Ronaldo and they sit together, as the older man explains that he has had surgery on his damaged ankle. He hopes that he hasn't been an entirely negative influence and Wellington hugs him. Both fight tears when he gets off, promising not to be a stranger, and, as the bus pulls away, Ronaldo thinks of the time they danced together on a bridge out of the sheer joy of being together and regrets that he has blown a chance of lasting happiness.

An awful lot happens in a short space of time in this involving, if occasionally convoluted drama, which risks undermining the sense of place so breezily captured by cinematographers Joana Luz and Pedro Sotero and underlined by Bruno Prado and Caê Rolfsen's lively score. The scenes of Wellington on the streets with his pals or helping Ronaldos sell drugs feel more authentic than the cosy get together's at Priscila's place, the interlude with Alexandre, and the telenovela-like family reunion, which is utterly devoid of any insight into Wellington's relationship with his mother. Still, at least we were spared the confrontation with the short-fused homophobic father.

These criticisms may seem harsh, but Caetano has created two compelling characters, who are outstandingly played by João Pedro Mariano and Ricardo Teodoro, and it feels like they have been sold short by the more melodramatic aspects of the scenario after Wellington starts to kick against the unsettling regime of tender protection and calculating exploitation that Ronaldo seeks to impose while he fathoms his emotional attachment to his protégé. Indeed, this is as much a film about the middle-aged man torn between regret and uncertainty, as it is about the rite of passage of a teenager whose personality is frustratingly shrouded by Caetano and co-writer Gabriel Domingues's reluctance to address his prison sentence. But this is also a study of alienation, loneliness, entitlement, danger, corruption, loyalty, and forgiveness in a city where anything and anyone can be bought and sold.