For me it was one name. Played by many men over the years, but it always comes back to just one name.
Sherlock Holmes
I recall reading the Doyle stories as a kid. I read every one of them back to back. And when I was done I wanted more. And I found non-canon stories based upon Doyle’s work, but I went through that even faster.
What was I to do? Well that was when I found Basil Rathbone, who is still to this day the epitome of Holmes, with all his strengths and weaknesses.
Holmes, who’s quick intellect, eye for detail, and vast knowledge make him one of the ideals of critical thinking and skepticism.
The second of Universal’s “modernized” Sherlock Holmes films pits the Great Detective (Basil Rathbone, of course) against that “Napoleon of Crime,” Professor Moriarty (Lionel Atwill). Surpassing his previous skullduggery, Moriarty has now aligned himself with the Nazis and has dedicated himself to stealing a top-secret bomb sight developed by expatriate European scientist Dr. Franz Tobel (William Post Jr.). Before being kidnapped by Moriarty’s minions, Tobel was enterprising enough to disassemble his invention and distribute its components among several other patriotic scientists. Racing against the clock, Holmes and Dr. Watson (Nigel Bruce) try to stem the murders of Tobel’s colleagues and prevent Moriarty from getting his mitts on the precious secret weapon. The now-famous climax finds Holmes playing for time by allowing Moriarty to drain all the blood from his body, drop by drop (“The needle to the last, eh Holmes?” gloats the villain). Dennis Hoey makes his first appearance as the dull-witted, conclusion-jumping Inspector Lestrade. Constructed more like a serial than a feature film, Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (based loosely on Conan Doyle’s The Dancing Men) is one of the fastest-moving entries in the series; it is also one of the most readily accessible, having lapsed into public domain in 1969.
Matthieu Guibert
Sarah Hippolitus
Jeff Randall
Luis Reinoso
Brian Gregory
Penn & Teller’s Bullshit in 2007 (before that I was Wiccan and into all the alternative junk that usually goes along with that religion).
P&T are a great way to get into skepticism… Bullshit is a great show (even with the occasional Libertarian rants they go off on), and does a tremendous job exposing lack of critical thinking.
I don’t ever remember a time when I wasn’t into critical thinking, which makes it hard to think of anything that triggered an interest. Holmes, of course, is amazing (which is funny when you consider how very uncritical Conan-Doyle was). Have you seen the new BBC series, “Sherlock” by any chance?
I do like the new series. I think I have seen, heard, and read every adaptation. But for me Rathbone will always be THE definitive Holmes.
And while I don’t remember ever believing in anything uncritical, I do remember after reading the Holmes stories it did make me start to think more about things, and taught me not to take the word of authorities without looking into things for myself.
And you’re right about Doyle. When I first heard about his belief in fairies it was hard to reconcile the author of the most critical character in fiction being that far off-base.
I am a Jeremy Brett fan, myself.
Hard to argue against Brett. That show is a classic, and he spent so much time in the role and studying Sherlock, that he became Holmes in the minds of many.
But Rathbone is the original, and he was my first (the movies and the radio show).
I can’t really make a great case for either one over the other, but I do believe any serious Holmes fan would put both of them, them miles ahead of all other Holmes…
I was trained to think critically from childhood. Really hard to put into words so I wrote a poem about it many years later. Read it and you’ll understand.
In a previous life,
you killed and raped,
cutting off the heads of kids,
tying them to your shields
so their kindred knew fear
before they fell beneath you.
You do not remember
your guilt,
but; you know them to be true
because I knew.
Why else would I beat you so?
Before you could walk, I beat
you with the hand,
the belt,
the wall,
and best of all, the closet.
You suckled the tit
of fear and pain
but you grew.
After school, I beat
you. Question after question
until you missed
and I began the lesson.
You became smart
and still you grew.
Older,
you had twelve inches
on me. You would not stand
still so I clutched
your hand and followed
you around the room;
told you to stop crying
with every lunge of the belt,
the switch,
the hanger.
You learned.
The pain
became yours.
I beat you never
again.
You are a Viking.
The son of Odon
and the Mother
who beat you so!