User Reviews

This is clearly an adaption of the first half of Doyle's novel "The Valley of Fear" ( http://sherlock-holmes.classic-literature.co.uk/the-valley-of-fear/ ) with tantalizing similarities for those who have read the book, and a few disappointing omissions, such as Doyle providing a much more dramatic ending to the first half of the novel. Still, this is very entertaining and well condensed. I agree that Ronald Howard makes a surprisingly good Holmes. Not up to Rathbone of course, but good.

Thanks to the other reviewers who mentioned the 30 and 39 episode DVDs. Just google "The Case of the Shy Ballerina" to find them. Look around cause prices vary. I just ordered the full series.

As other IMDb commentators point out, this episode of Sheldon Reynolds' Sherlock Holmes series starring Ronald Howard is indeed a lightweight, lighthearted version of the fictional world Arthir Conan Doyle created. I don't think that's a bad thing, as these episodes are often just what they intend to be: very creative and highly enjoyable viewing. This isn't the best episode of the series, but it is still good fun.

The opening scenes are essentially comedy material using Holmes and Watson as familiar characters to mine for, and it's quite well-written and well-played comedy material. Holmes displays quite a sense of humor, coyly pretending to me more interested in fishing than the murder Watson thinks he should investigate (with Watson deducing this is a ruse) and tacitly conspiring with his friend to make a messenger boy think they are crazy. It's amusing to learn that Watson is such a railway timetable boffin.

The rest of the episode, however still pleasant viewing, is not as good as it could have been. It's been pointed out that in places it resembles the first half of "The Valley of Fear," but here is a place where fidelity to Doyle might have hurt it -- there is a little too much plot to get across in the time allowed without skipping over some explanations and resorting to some expository passages. Though there are only two real suspects, Holmes deduction scenes are well set up and play very impressively -- but there just wasn't space for the mystery itself to develop naturally.

We're supposed to be an an English village (Holmes even spends some time discoursing on the quaintness and humor of the names of English villages) but because once we get there one of the two main characters we meet (Maurice Teynac as Morelle) speaks with a French accent it feels more like we are in provincial France (the country where the series was actually filmed).

Holmes visits a castle in a village to investigate the murder of a man whose face was blown off in a shotgun blast. The gun is from America.

The police think they have a suspect but Holmes thinks they have caught the wrong fish. He has bought his own fishing equipment.

The story has a nod to The Valley of Fear.

Watson is rather bafoonish. Holmes dispatches him to the pub with the local inspector to get them out of the way. However Watson has memorised Bradshaws train guide which comes useful.

Ronald Howard makes for a suave Sherlock Holmes and is also not too shy to be lighthearted.

While investigating the mystery, Holmes is witnessed sliding down bannisters.

It seems whenever a face is blown off in a murder mystery, it usually points to a mistaken identity.

A man has had part of his face blown away by a sawed off shotgun. It is thought that he is the lord of a huge castle. He has a moat around it that would have made it hard for the murderer to have escaped. The only suspect is a wise cracking servant and Scotland Yard is ready to grab him. The problem is evidence. They're sure he did it, but they really have no hard evidence. What ends up making the case is a spider web, a single dumbbell, and a lot of patience. I always enjoy the unflappable Holmes who sits and listens while Watson or a police detective huff and puff, thinking they have solved the crime. Watson, for one, should know better. The movies have continually made Watson, a medical man, a buffoon. Crawford has some of that, although Nigel Bruce was the worst. The Jeremy Brett Watsons are the best. Anyway, Holmes does endure and there is a pretty satisfying conclusion to this neat little mystery. Some of the better acting as well.

This is one of a very light weight series of Sherlock Holmes stories produced by the BBC in the 1950s. It is played for comedy and cleverness, rather than mystery and genius.

The story is thin, the settings atmospheric and the players know they are not playing for posterity.

The dialog emphasizes cleverness, with everybody having an opportunity to be the witty one.

The writers, through Ronald Howard clearly provide the role model for John Steed in the Original Avengers with his waaay witty delivery.

Watson (Crawford) is suitably buffoonish and, as is often the case, has the last of a scene with some sort of puffing expression, signaling to us that he is exasperated, having been the butt of yet another gag.

For the discerning eye, there is a clear familial connection to British Film (especially The Ealing Studios style) and we detect connections to such shows as Follow That Man.

An interesting, if minor, chapter in the history of the television detective show, and the various Sherlock Homles projects.

Saw this on the Talking Pictures channel (UK - older films and TV shows from yesteryear). I've seen various versions of these stories over the decades, I wasn't aware of this one before.

Now I've seen one, I certainly won't be rushing to try a second.

Other reviewers have stated that the aim was light comedy, and the actors and direction were somewhat tongue-in-cheek, though solving various mysteries along the way.

I thought the whole thing was abysmal, hammy acting, not helped by the director emphasising 'clues' for even the blindest audience, and the attempted humour painful even by those early 50s standards.

Despite as one reviewer points out Dr Watson being an expert on train timetables, in one early line they calculate that getting from London to Sussex will take just over 4 hours. Well, in those days, you could get from London to Brighton in an hour, and with branch lines still open (10 years or so before the wretched Beeching cuts) that 4 hours would have been total twaddle.

Oh, and why were (apparently) the exteriors shot in France? Bizarre.

Two out of 10, and that's being kind.