Word: bloodhounds
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Samuel Rosenberg's Naked Is the Best Disguise: The Death and Resurrection of Sherlock Holmes (Bobbs-Merrill; $8.95) is one of the more ingenious rummagings through the great detective's lodgings at 221 B Baker Street. Rosenberg is an amateur literary bloodhound who once made his living heading off plagiarism suits for a film company-by proving that both plaintiff and defendant had stolen from older sources. He now makes a most convincing case that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the ex-eye doctor who created the world's most famous sleuth, was really "a compulsive self-revealing...
...sold it to me on his deathbed." As for his contribution to the House of Commons, Freud says, unconvincingly: "It is not my ambition to liven up the debate in Parliament." But, he adds, with a look as baleful as the one he wears (and shares with a bloodhound) on a celebrated British TV commercial for dog food: "A monopolies commission ought to look into the number of bores at Westminster...
During the first 15 minutes of every episode, a seemingly perfect murder. Then, for more than an hour, Los Angeles Police Lieutenant Columbo tries to figure out what the viewer already knows. Looking and acting more like a befuddled sheep dog than a crafty bloodhound, Columbo (Peter Falk) sets to work. The viewer works with him, wincing, sighing and occasionally sitting up in excitement as Columbo stumbles step by step to the tiny flaw that will unravel the murder's protective coat...
...Montgomery's first work, perhaps autobiographical and certainly immature; it doesn't build to any resolution of crises, only defines the forces it presents more clearly as the evening progresses. What Montgomery dramatizes are his characters' most heightened psychological confrontations, particularly as they affect his Prince Myshkin--a bloodhound who seeks out people's torments, not their persons; a self-deceived martyr hoping to relieve the suffering of mankind while he seems to further it. Montgomery creates a sexual triangle among the coarse Rogochin, the passionate, misused and vengeful Natasha, and the sexless Myshkin, undercutting any examination of either problems...
Shot in color that may have been invented by Madame Tussaud and edited with a cleaver, The Villain is acceptable only as a glimpse of procedural tradition, the English bloodhound pursuing his accursed foe. Villain Burton's voice remains one of the most distinctive and controlled in the world. But he is no longer in charge of his face. The little piggy eyes glisten and swivel in a seamed and immobile background. Dissipation, alas, now seems less a simulacrum than a portrait...