Sherlock Holmes et le docteur Watson

A lot of people make a big deal about the fact that in the Sherlock Holmes museum, Vasiliy Livanov's picture is the largest. The only thing this proves is the British found a great way to soften relations between the U.K. and the Soviets. I see it as a political maneuver, and little else.

There is no doubt that these films are of excellent quality, but they suffer from an overemphasis on the farcical. In particular, Vitali Solomin's portray of Watson borders on camp at times, with little subtlety. The relationship between Holmes and Watson, something that is near and dear to many a fan's heart, is too kitschy. Missing is the deep, abiding friendship that Jeremy Brett and David Burke (and later, Edward Hardwicke) portrayed so eloquently in the Granada productions.

The Baltic locations are clearly Eastern Europe and at times that is a bit distracting. The biggest problem is of course, the language. First of all, the subtitles have been poorly done. I have spoken to a couple of people who speak Russian and English who have bemoaned the quality of the subtitles. They assert that English-speaking audiences would appreciate the films more if they could experience them as intended rather than through the poor subtitles. Some characters are meant to be heard in their native language and Holmes is certainly one of those characters. Hearing Doyle's detective speaking Russian is very distracting as are the poorly translated subtitles. Perhaps in the future someone could redo the subtitles and the films would benefit from this.

The most interesting thing about these films are the little jokes and ironic elements that are littered throughout. Little jabs at the Soviet government and the British are present and done very slyly. In one instance, Doctor Watson is speaking to Holmes about his lack of understanding of things outside his profession, but it is clear he is speaking of the oppression of the Communist government in the Soviet Union. Watson says, "How awful it would be to live in a world, where you couldn't talk to anyone about poetry, about art, or politics." The irony is, the actors in this film — at the time this production was made — did live in a place where you couldn't talk about many things without fear of reprisals. There are quite a few of these moments and it is very interesting to listen for them. Surely the producers of these films had to be very careful not to glorify a society of the West, albeit a hundred years in the past. Perhaps it was at the behest of the Communist party that Holmes gets the following line: "The British are conservative, and we don't like changes. Anyone who is not like us in the ways of mind, is easily taken for a rogue". Great fun.

These films do deserve their place in the cinematic Holmes canon, but more for what they reveal about the Soviet Union at the time and their relations with the British. An interesting interpretation that demands viewing, but ultimately pales in comparison to the Granada productions with Jeremy Brett.

Vasili Livanov dons the deerskin cap for the first time in the Russian series "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson" and does an excellent job at it. The movie begins with the titular acquaintance between Holmes and Dr. Watson as Watson, fresh from the East Indies, moves in with Holmes and in the 221 Baker Street apartment. Shenanigans of a mysterious, often baffling nature, lead Watson quite humorously to suspect Holmes as a criminal mastermind of some kind before he reveals himself as a private detective. The ensuing murder mystery involving two sisters, their stepfather and a heritage is not all that good but for an introductory film it's nevertheless solid material. What really stands out is the baroque atmosphere and sets, the cinematic feel for a movie that was practically made for TV and the cinematography that uses heavy blacks and lush colours.

This remarkable adaptation exists simultaneously in three temporal dimensions - Victorian England, Soviet-era production, and contemporary viewing - creating a unique cultural phenomenon that transcends simple period drama. Director Igor Maslennikov crafted something far more profound than mere escapism, though that was his stated intent to "escape from Soviet reality." Ironically, this very escape became a collective experience that captured the zeitgeist of an entire nation.

What makes this adaptation particularly fascinating is its treatment of Holmes himself. Rather than falling into the trap of making Holmes a one-dimensional "thinking machine," Maslennikov understood that Holmes as a pure functional character would collapse under his own weight. Instead, he created a delicate balance where Watson becomes an equally vital presence, humanizing the detective and grounding the narrative in emotional reality.

The series constructs an almost fairytale-like world, where evil never truly threatens and good's triumph is assured - yet this isn't a weakness but rather a brilliant reimagining of both Conan Doyle's London and Soviet cultural mythology. In Maslennikov's hands, Victorian London becomes a harmonious, timeless space.

Vasily Livanov's Holmes deserves special praise for finding humanity within the detective's mechanical precision. His performance, honored by the British Empire itself, demonstrates how great acting can transcend cultural barriers. Vitaly Solomin's Watson is equally crucial, providing warm humanity that perfectly counterbalances Holmes's analytical nature.

This TV production from the Soviet Lenfilm studio is a superb screen translation of the Sherlock Holmes story to the screen. The producers found ways to remain very faithful to the original stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle while modifying things slightly to make them work well as films. Here they embellish the first parts of "A Study in Scarlet" before moving into a pared-down "Speckled Band," and it works very well as a film on its own.

It's an unanswerable question to me who the best screen Holmes (or the best Watson for that matter) was. Some have certainly been better than others but each has brought unique and interesting qualities to the role. It is enough for me that here Vasili Livanov and Vitali Solomin are extraordinarily good. Their performances are magnetic viewing and full of subtlety. Every scene between the is memorable.

In the first half of "Acquaintance," the real mystery doesn't revolve around a crime but around Sherlock Holmes' character -- and Watson, whose character -- a romantic, artistic, intelligent doctor who would like to think he minds his own business but really does not -- is wonderfully fleshed out -- is the detective. This makes perfect sense as a way of introducing the two characters, but still seems like an innovation here.

It also looks wonderfully lavish and the filming is contrastingly expansive and suspensefully claustrophobic. It's clear a lot of care was well spent on these adaptation, and it is only right that they should have received notoriety decades after they were filmed and far from the former USSR.

OK, maybe the English subtitles aren't perfect. And maybe the foley artist's efforts could be better (or better edited). But the actors, screenplay, directing, sets, and cinematography are the best of all Sherlock Holmes adaptations. Perhaps the single Jeremy Brett episode "The Abbey Grange" matches it for screenplay (Trevor Bowen) and directing (?) and cinematography (note the use of reflections).

The Sherlock Holmes character in the Russian adaptation is logical (but not coldly so), understanding, and, in some sense, warm. He is capable of humorous pranks. In other words, he is not so distant that he seems not quite sane. The Conan Doyle stories portray Holmes as a more unusual person, like the Cumberbatch characterization

The first half of the Acquaintances episode cleverly and amusingly cements the relationship between Holmes and Watson, and introduces Mrs. Hudson as knowledgable and understanding of Holmes' ways. In the second half, Holmes solves a mystery. Spoiler Alert - the English subtitled word "motley" probably should be "mottled."