“Basil Rathbone. His Life and His Films” by Michael B. Druxman (published by BearManor Media)
But better not to mention Mr. Sherlock Holmes
The Budapest Times accepts a slap on the wrist for this little bit of nostalgia because, like many other Rathbone-as-Sherlock fans, we have identified the actor so strongly with the ace detective that the role he played in those 14 films overshadowed the 69 others he made. Rathbone became disturbed that, even off screen, he was beginning to lose his own identity.
Instead of people addressing him as “Mister Rathbone”, fans would say “Hello, Sherlock” or “May I have your autograph, Mr Holmes.” Druxman recounts how Rathbone’s growing dislike for the character resulted from his feeling that the detective was too egotistical to make him sympathetic, and his constant put-down of Watson was, in essence, the sign of a cruel streak.
The actor generally loved children dearly, his biographer says, but once when a group of them followed him in the street and asked “Mr Holmes” for his autograph, he finally snapped and demanded, “What is my real name?” They were startled by the outburst. One boy managed to reply, “Why, Sherlock Holmes, the detective”. Rathbone said, “I will not give you my autograph until you tell me my real name”, and strode away.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been frustated about being over-identified with a part. After playing the dictatorial and cruel Mr. Murdstone in “David Copperfield” in 1933, he’d been typed as a “heavy”, causing him to lash out at Hollywood casting in an interview.
Druxman’s book was originally published in 1975 and almost immediately went into a second edition. The author says it kept selling well through the 1970s but then the publisher was sold and it went out of print prematurely. Changes in the printing industry in the computer age meant the biography became available again in 2011, and it remains so today.
More than 250 photographs are included, albeit sometimes a little faded because the original printing plates were destroyed for their silver content, forcing Druxman to photocopy his book for individual sales before the 2011 resurrection. The important thing is that we again have this record of a notable acting career for posterity.
In a new Introduction, Druxman writes how Rathbone and his wife Ouida were among Hollywood’s greatest party-givers, and she still insisted on giving lavish affairs even after her husband’s well-paying roles became scarce. Rathbone confided to actor Louis Hayward that “She’s breaking me” but this was omitted from the 1975 book for fear Ouida might sue.
However, just before the book was published Ouida died aged 87 in New York on November 29, 1974, making it possible at the last minute to insert an extra two or three paragraphs to mention her effect on her husband’s finances. When he died aged 75 in New York on July 21, 1967 his estate was reported by newspapers to be between ten and twenty thousand dollars.
Druxman says nobody he interviewed about Rathbone had a negative comment. There didn’t seem to be any “juicy” tidbits to relate. Actor Fredric March, and virtually everybody else, said, “He was a good actor and a nice guy.” But few said good things about Ouida, his second wife whom he married on April 18, 1926. She gave Druxman a couple of phone interviews.
The author classifies Rathbone as the screen’s supreme villain with a rogue’s gallery of sophisticated scoundrels that includes “some of the most despicable characters ever recorded on film”. For example, the aforementioned Murdstone, the Marquis St. Evremonde in “A Tale of Two Cities” (1935), Sir Guy of Gisbourne in “The Adventures of Robin Hood” (1938) Richard III in “Tower of London” (1939) and Captain Esteban Pasquale in “The Mark of Zorro” (1940). All were vivid portraits of evil incarnate, and more type-casting.
Druxman offers a full list of Rathbone’s films and a separate section on each that includes the production details, cast, synopsis and a contemporary critical comment, plus, almost always, a photo or two or three. The full filmography is six silent films in the 1920s and Rathbone’s first “talkie” in 1929, 35 films in the 1930s, 26 in the 1940s, five in the 1950s and 10 in the 1960s. His debut was “Innocent” in 1921. He was an adept sword-fighting swashbuckler.
While researching the book Druxman discovered one film that all Rathbone filmographies had missed. This was “Autopsy of a Ghost”, shot in Mexico and released in 1967, the year Rathbone died. It was only released in Spanish. Two of his roles garnered Academy Award nominations for Best Supporting Actor. These were for the portrayal of Tybalt in MGM’s “Romeo and Juliet” (1936) and as Louis XI in “If I Were King” (1938), but he failed to win.
Apart from the films, the actor was kept busy on stage, televison, radio and presenting a one-man show, “An Evening With Basil Rathbone”, in colleges, clubs and other organisations. These aren’t listed like the films but the many theatre appearances in particular are dealt with in the text. During the early 1960s he made an extensive theatrical tour of Australia.
In 1947 Rathbone appeared in the play “The Heiress” and it had a run of well over a year on Broadway, being considered by him as the play that got him out of the Sherlock Holmes rut he had abandoned in 1946 and re-established him as a versatile character actor.
Nonetheless, by 1951 he had been away from Holmes for five years, excluding two minor television dramas, so he suggested to Ouida that she write for him a Sherlock Holmes play. Ouida, née Ouida Bergère, had been an actress and screenwriter but gave up the occupations on her marriage to Rathbone, and she duly wrote the requested play. But after a three-week tryout in Boston it closed after a mere three performances in New York, one review calling the resulting melodrama cumbersome, uneven and untidy.
As noted by Druxman, there aren’t “juicy” tidbits. There was an incident in Cleveland in 1959 when, appearing in the Pulitzer Prize-winning play “J.B.”, a heckler started replying to Rathbone’s lines. “To both the surprise and appreciation of the audience, Basil stopped the performance until the man could be removed.” (Well, what would you expect? – editor.)
Norma Shearer appeared with him in “The Last of Mrs. Cheney” in 1929 and comented: “It was a joy to act with Mr. Rathbone and I remember him most affectionately as a charmer, both on and off the screen. His beautiful voice, noble feaures and distinguished bearing made him one of the great gentlemen of his time.” Others have similar sentiments.
Nonetheless, while filming “The Garden of Allah” (1936), his fourth film for producer David O. Selznick, Rathbone balked at new dialogue and had a shouting match with Selznick, then had to give in or perhaps be informally “blacklisted”. The producer never used his services again.
Druxman mentions a moment familiar to The Budapest Times. At the end of “The Hound of the Baskervilles”, the first of the Rathbone-Bruce Holmes films in 1939, the detective is tired after his efforts on the moor and is going to bed. Leaving the room he turns to Watson and says, “Quick, Watson – the needle!” We cineastes all know what he meant by that, don’t we?
This book by Hollywood historian, screenwriter and publicist Druxman about a memorable acting career is back in print after more than 35 years absence, for film fans to investigate.
Basil Rathbone, born June 13, 1892, died July 21, 1967. “He was a good actor and a nice guy.”
