Considering Universal Studios churned out no less than three Sherlock Holmes pictures in 1943, after resurrecting the series with 'Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror (1942),' it's often easy to underestimate the creative talents behind the camera. Not being particularly in the mood for an overdose of WWII Allied propaganda, I conveniently skipped over 'Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1943)' and 'Sherlock Holmes in Washington (1943)' until a later date, and was delighted to discover that 'Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943)' is perhaps, in my limited experience, the finest Holmes adaptation I've seen to date. Technically, the picture is not only competent, but surprisingly proficient, and Charles Van Enger's shadowy cinematography superbly captures the desired mood. In a break from Holmes' all-important war efforts, most of the film takes place in an ancient mansion, now serving as a convalescent home for shell-shocked combat soldiers. The film openly acknowledges its somewhat cliché scenario, that one of the home's trusted residents must be a murderer, and the directness with which the narratives progresses consistently keeps us interested.
'Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943)' was adapted, rather loosely, from Arthur Conan Doyle's short story, "The Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual," which was first serialised in "The Strand Magazine" in 1893. Still in the midst of the Second World War, Dr. Watson (Nigel Bruce) has volunteered his services at Musgrave Hall, now a convalescent home, in Northumberland. Detective Sherlock Holmes (Basil Rathbone) is first summoned to the old house after Watson's assistant (Arthur Margetson) is unexpectedly attacked by an unknown assailant. By the time the detective arrives, however, the head of the house has been murdered and covered with autumn leaves. The fiancé of the murdered man's innocent sister (Hillary Brooke) is immediately suspected, and a cocky Insp. Lestrade (Dennis Hoey) wastes no time in placing him under arrest, after formulating an unashamedly inadequate solution. Holmes, meanwhile, begins to deduce that this mystery goes back considerably further than anticipated, perhaps stretching back to a centuries-old family ritual, whose meaning has been lost for generations. Can he solve the mystery before it claims its next victim?
Not surprisingly, Rathbone and Bruce are excellent in their signature roles, successfully avoiding the "going through the motions" performances that usually accompany such familiarity with a character. The supporting players are adequate, if not notable, though Dennis Hoey is very enjoyable as the smug and incompetent police detective Lestrade. The story has a few indirect references to combat, but Holmes' talents don't contribute anything to the war-effort; he's much more at home when he's tackling smaller and more cunning foes than the Nazis. Above all else, Van Enger's cinematography is the picture's major star, and, considering that the filmmakers must surely have been working with a restricted budget, the crisp black-and-white photography brilliantly evokes the mood of a considerably more expensive film. Director Roy William Neill delights in subtle storytelling tools that increase the film's creepiness, including the mansion's blustery, leaf-strewn entrance, a uncannily-clever black raven, a clock-tower that occasionally strikes thirteen at midnight, and a supposed dead body that reaches out a clammy hand to ensnare the cold-blooded murderer.
