Theatre, theatre. . . .

ELEMENTARY, MY DEAR . . . WELL, YOU KNOW THE REST

Posted by Susan Doll on October 6, 2014

Last week, the Cinematheque Francaise announced that it had uncovered a copy of Sherlock Holmes, which was ranked “among the Holy Grails of lost films,” according to restoration expert Robert Byrne, who is also on the board of the San Francisco Silent Film Festival.
Essanay Studios released Sherlock Holmes in 1916. In their soon-to-be-published Flickering Empire: How Chicago Invented the U.S. Film Industry, Michael Smith and Adam Selzer noted that the seven-reel film was the first feature-length version of Holmes’s exploits. It was also one of the last significant productions of Essanay’s Chicago-based studio before it closed its doors. But, the film’s real importance is its star, William Gillette, a prominent actor and playwright who was renowned on two continents during the first decades of the 20^th century.
I have always been fascinated by forgotten stars—actors and entertainers who were beloved back in their day but who are now completely unknown. Sometimes, their careers lasted for decades; often they counted kings, queens, and presidents among their admirers. Yet, their talents go unsung to today’s audiences; their influences unrecognized. William Gillette was not only an acclaimed actor but also a playwright and stage manager whose fame rested on his interpretation of Sherlock Holmes on the stage.

GILLETTE ONSTAGE AS SHERLOCK HOLMES

Gillette was one of those larger-than-life historical figures who make you realize just how banal life in the computer age has become. He was born in Nook Farm, Hartford, Connecticut, a sort of writers’ colony frequented by Mark Twain, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Charles Dudley. His father was a US senator who was an abolitionist, a teetotaler, and a supporter of women’s suffrage—a trifecta of unpopular positions that garnered a lot of attention. Gillette’s oldest brother struck out for California during the last days of the Gold Rush, while another fought in the Civil War, serving first in the Antietam campaign then later participating in the assaults on Fort Fisher. Both died while William was still at home. Decades later, during the peak of his career, Gillette continued to hobnob with high-profile artists and celebrities, including political cartoonist Thomas Nast and culture critic Alexander Woollcott. Professionally, he performed alongside young actresses Ethel Barrymore and Helen Hayes, who always spoke in reverent tones about his stage presence. He became close friends with actress Gertrude Berkeley, who named her son after him, Busby Berkeley William Eno, aka Busby Berkeley.

GILLETTE IN THE CIVIL WAR PLAY ‘SECRET SERVICE’

Mark Twain actually helped Gillette jump-start his career in 1875 when he recommended him for a role in Twain’s play The Gilded Age. As he toured the country in stock, Gillette saw the advantage of expanding his career to become a playwright and stage manager. As the latter, he gained a reputation for adding realism and complexity to stage productions. Instead of reverting to the two-dimensional, hand-painted backdrops that were a convention of 19^th century American theater, he used realistically rendered sets with actual furniture and props. He applied for four patents, including one involving sound effects—a more believable re-creation of the pounding of horses’ hooves than two cocoanuts on a board. Gillette teamed up with legendary Broadway producer Charles Frohman, who staged the actor’s plays on the London stage. Gillette was the first U.S. playwright to garner enormous success in London with an American-style play, and he became the toast of London society. Frohman was savvy at promoting Gillette to his best advantage. The two remained associates and friends until the producer’s death in 1915 aboard the RMSLusitania after it was torpedoed by the Germans during the early days of WWI. Frohman had facilitated the deal between Gillette and Arthur Conan Doyle that gave his client leave to rewrite Doyle’s stage play featuring his beloved detective. Gillette combined elements of four of Doyle’s stories with new material to construct his own version of the play titledSherlock Holmes, with him in the leading role. The play debuted on October 23, 1899 in Buffalo, New York—of all places. Two years later, it premiered in London at the Lyceum.

NORWOOD AS HOLMES

The character of Sherlock Holmes has been played by more actors than any other detective. The first screen version of Holmes was in a silent short released in 1903, and I do mean short, because apparently it was only a minute long. An actor named Ellie Norwood was the most prolific Holmes during the silent era, starring in seven movies. Colin Brook gets a nod for introducing the character to talkies in The Return of Sherlock Holmes in 1929. During the 1930s, Arthur Wontner, Raymond Massey, Robert Rendel, and Reginald Owen starred in various films featuring Holmes, with Wontner receiving the most critical acclaim—at least at the time. The actor was in his 50s when he appeared in five Holmes movies, giving the character a different spin. Wontner was completely overshadowed when Basil Rathbone was cast as Holmes for the first time in 1939 in the lavish, atmospheric Hound of the Baskervilles. Not only did the younger Rathbone make Holmes more physically attractive he infused the character with energy and vitality. His persona was complemented by the endearing, slightly bumbling Nigel Bruce as Dr. Watson. For classic movie lovers, Rathbone’s interpretation defines the character because he appeared in 12 more Sherlock Holmes movies from 1942 to 1946. In later eras, other actors and directors tweaked and updated the character—from Hammer Films’ colorful, horror-based Hound of the Baskervilles with Peter Cushing to Guy Ritchie’s hyper-edited assaults on the senses starring Robert Downey Jr. as a flippant, irreverent Holmes.

GILLETTE DESIGNED HIS HOME IN CONNECTICUT, WHICH HE CALLED SEVENTH SISTER.

So what did William Gillette bring to the table as Sherlock Holmes? He adopted some of the props and mannerisms that became trademarks for the character. He added the deekstalker cap to the costume, which he borrowed from the illustrations for the Holmes stories by Sidney Paget. He also gave Holmes the bent briar pipe, a magnifying glass, and a violin, which are now the accepted conventions for portraying the character. Gillette’s Holmes also used a syringe filled with cocaine—a prop and image not used again until contemporary interpretations of the character. He was the first to use the phrase, “Oh, this is elementary, my dear fellow.” That was later reworked by Clive Brook as “Elementary, my dear Watson.”

SCENE FROM PLAY  ‘SHERLOCK HOLMES’ WITH GILLETTE’S IMPRESSIVE STAGING

Sherlock Holmes proved to be a popular hit in America and England. The role became Gillette’s signature part, and he would perform it 1,300 times. He graced the cover of magazines and programs in Holmes’s deerstalker cap. According to some sources, the critics were slow to warm up to his interpretation of the role. I found a 1901 review from a British paper that lamented the play’s improbable plot and thin dialogue but lauded its “elaborate business,” referring to Gillette’s staging. The review mentions the third act in which Holmes is trapped in Professor Moriarty’s gas chamber. Sherlock picks up a chair and smashes a lamp, which signals the stage to go into complete blackness except for the red glowing end of his cigar. As the fight ensues in total darkness, the audience hears a variety of thumps, scrapes, and punches but sees only the red glow darting around the stage. After the lights come up, the henchmen are trapped, the cigar is impaled on the wall, and Sherlock is gone.
As a prominent star who hobnobbed with celebrities and in certain social circles, Gillette fostered an image as a charismatic sophisticate, a raconteur and larger-than-life celebrity. Like the movie stars of the Golden Age of Hollywood, he fostered an image that informed his characters. However, out of the limelight, he stayed to himself; he was aloof, mysterious, unknowable, and a bit eccentric. He rarely gave interviews, kept no journal, and burned his correspondence before his death.

GILLETTE AS HOLMES IN THE 1916 FILM

The 1916 film version of Sherlock Holmes was Gillette’s only movie role and thus the only existing record of his work as an actor. Ads and reviews of the time were effusive in describing Gillette in the screen version of his hit play: An ad in The Daily Heralddeclared, “The character which Mr. Gillette’s genius has molded into a virile human being lives and breathes in screen action.” A review in the same paper boasted, “. . . he stands as a type of genius with no equal on the American stage today.”
A restored Sherlock Holmes will be screened at the 2015 San Francisco Film Festival in May. Perhaps the renewed attention will restore some of the fame that Gillette thrived on in another time and place.

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