[mywholebodyisaweapon]

Yes, like “The Engineer’s Thumb” and “The Five Orange Pips,” or the novels, “A Study in Scarlet” and “The Valley of Fear.”

Brett WAS Holmes.

[Leaning Right]

> Brett WAS Holmes. <

So much so that I cannot watch any other Holmes interpretation. Brett was so good that all the others look like hacks by comparison.

[llevrok]

Brett WAS Holmes.

Yup. Played it true to Conan-Doyle's image of Holmes. The best.

[mairdie]

The Three Garridebs. THIS is why I loved the stories. A Holmes who really cared about his Watson. I always saw Holmes as someone less interested in justice than in satisfying his curiosity. On occasion he let people go if they seemed good people and they would explain what happened.

*****

Clearly our moment had come. Holmes touched my wrist as a signal, and together we stole across to the open trap-door. Gently as we moved, however, the old floor must have creaked under our feet, for the head of our American, peering anxiously round, emerged suddenly from the open space. His face turned upon us with a glare of baffled rage, which gradually softened into a rather shamefaced grin as he realized that two pistols were pointed at his head.

“Well, well!” said he coolly as he scrambled to the surface. “I guess you have been one too many for me, Mr. Holmes. Saw through my game, I suppose, and played me for a sucker from the first. Well, sir, I hand it to you; you have me beat and —”

There was a crash as Holmes’ pistol came down on the man’s head.

In an instant he had whisked out a revolver from his breast and had fired two shots. I felt a sudden hot sear as if a red-hot iron had been pressed to my thigh. There was a crash as Holmes’s pistol came down on the man’s head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for weapons. Then my friend’s wiry arms were round me, and he was leading me to a chair.

“You’re not hurt, Watson? For God’s sake, say that you are not hurt!”

It was worth a wound — it was worth many wounds — to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation.

“It’s nothing, Holmes. It’s a mere scratch.”

He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket-knife.

“You are right,” he cried with an immense sigh of relief. “It is quite superficial.” His face set like flint as he glared at our prisoner, who was sitting up with a dazed face. “By the Lord, it is as well for you. If you had killed Watson, you would not have got out of this room alive. Now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?”

[longfellow]

I felt that too about his portrayal.

[Steve_Seattle]

"Brett WAS Holmes."

There was a time - before Brett - when Basil Rathbone WAS Holmes, but the Brett series was far truer to the original stories, often quoting them verbatim. And in the Rathbone versions, both Watson and Lestrade were buffoons, often - particularly in the case of Lestrade - in a completely cartoonish and annoying manner.

I had my occasional beef with Brett, as when I thought his Holmes bordered on rudeness, but - in the end - I think he was the best Holmes. One of my favorite scenes was in "The Solitary Cyclist" when - after his initial irritation and impatience - his compassion kicks in when he learns that the young woman has been followed on country lanes by an unknown man.