Die Perle der Borgia

At this point the creative team behind the ongoing Sherlock Holmes saga in Universal could probably churn them out with their eyes closed and their hands behind their back. Director Roy William Neill and the acting duo of Rathbone and Bruce return to their positions for another short but delightfully entertaining murder mystery. Everything that made the previous entries with Neill in the helm so successful are reprised but not rehashed. The diabolic criminal mastermind (and master of disguises good enough to rival Holmes himself), this time one called Giles Connover, the henchmen taking potshots at Holmes and Watson, Nigel Bruce playing Dr. Watson as a bumbling fool and providing welcome comedic touches in doing so, Holmes disguises, the dark, almost noirish cinematography and on-the-spot deductions - all here once more and no less entertaining for that matter. It also provides the series with one of its most creepy goons, aptly named as The Creeper, whom Neill wisely conceals for most of his screen time in shadows and reveals as a *gasp* moment in just the right time. PEARL OF DEATH shows that Hollywood once had and has long now lost the knowledge of how to make worthwhile sequels on a budget that live up to their predecessor's name.

Here is yet another solid Sherlock Holmes entry, featuring Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce. This story centers around a chase by crooks to seize a valuable pearl, a bunch of murders that take place as a result of that pursuit, and Holmes trying to make sure the pearl stays with its rightful owner.

It turns out the pearl is hidden in one of six plastic Napoleon busts. Whoever buys these busts winds up dead by a hired killer, monstrous fiend called "The Creeper," a huge man-beast who literally breaks backs.

Holmes (Rathbone) narrowly avoids getting hurt several times himself while Watson (Bruce) mumbles his way through to provide comic relief. Dennis Hoey, who plays "Inspector Lestrade," is as dumb as a brick and adds more humor to the story.

Sherlock Holmes (Basil Rathbone) allows arrogance to get in the way of common-sense, disarming a museum's alarm system to highlight its inadequacies, and giving criminal mastermind Giles Conover (Miles Mander) the ideal opportunity to make off with a legendary pearl in the process. Conover is quickly apprehended, but not before he has had a chance to stash the valuable gem inside a plaster Napolean bust.

In order to restore his tarnished reputation, Holmes sets out to locate the missing gem, following a trail of broken bodies and smashed crockery left in the wake of Conover's murderous henchman, a massive brute known as The Hoxton Creeper (Rondo Hatton), who is also looking for the pearl, snapping the back of anyone unlucky enough to have purchased one of the ornaments.

I have mixed feelings about The Pearl of Death: as perversely satisfying as it is to see London's greatest sleuth make a complete ass of himself for a change, I find it hard to accept that Holmes's mistake, a result of his pomposity, ultimately results in several innocent people being snapped like a twig by The Creeper; likewise, I struggle with the absurd level of buffoonery displayed by both Dr. Watson (Nigel Bruce) and Inspector Lestrade (Dennis Hoey)—while admittedly funny, it's extremely hard to swallow that they could really be that stupid.

In the end, it is Rondo Hatton's Hoxton Creeper that qualifies this film as essential viewing: born with the disfiguring condition acromegaly, which causes enlarged features, Hatton's ominous physical presence makes him a truly menacing foe, one guaranteed to send a chill down the spine (immediately before snapping it!).

Expertly directed by R. William Neill, who was responsible for the film noir classic "Black Angel", "The Pearl Of Death" is based on the Arthur Conan Doyle story "The Adventure of the Six Napoleons". This film has it all: mystery, action, comedy, horror, even a half-assed patriotic message tacked on to the end (it was made as WWII was coming to a close). I was impressed by Basil Rathbone's characterization of Holmes: he consistently utters lines that, coming from an inferior actor, would probably sound ridiculous, yet he manages (probably because this was his sixth turn at the character) to impress me with his believability and sheer presence on the screen. Until I saw this film I was always irritated by Nigel Bruce's bumbling Dr. Watson, whose character is miles away from the Watson portrayed in the books, but I now realize that he was the perfect foil for Rathbone's Holmes. The updating of Holmes into the modern era also troubles me, but the film manages to maintain a kind of 'timeless' quality by avoiding too many 'modern' references. Virgil Miller's cinematography is beautiful: I would hate to see it "Colorized" by Turner and his evil band. Miller, who shot another one of my favorite films, "Mr. Moto Takes A Chance" is the perfect compliment for Neill's great direction: together they make every shot interesting, and provide many unforgettable images.

Somehow the ending of THE PEARL OF DEATH was picked up and plunked down into MURDER, MY SWEET: The unarmed Detective in the dark, faced up against Miles Mander and a hulking brute, turns the tables through his understanding of the relationships between the characters. I wonder if the writers at RKO ever acknowledged this swipe from Universal? At any rate, both films make good use of lighting and creepy sets to exploit the situation, and both directors (Dmytrick & Neill) know how to use the limited acting skills of Mike Mazurki and Rondo Hatton to best advantage. I liked Rathbone's pithy comment to the Police when they arrive to catch the baddies, "You won't need your revolver. Nor handcuffs. Worthy of a hard-boiled Private Eye in any film noir!