It's always interesting to see a ten-minute film of a man whose works you've perused avidly since high school. That he has nothing much new to add to what we've already heard about the love/hate relationship between Sherlock Holmes and his creator is less important than seeing the creator in the flesh, if celluloid can be called flesh, watching him smile comfortably before the camera, and tell us a bit about his two chief interests -- Holmes and spiritualism -- with a lingering hint of Scotland in his voice.
He claims that his interest in spiritualism began at about the same time as the fictional life of the famous detective but I've gotten the impression over the years that the death of his son, Kingsley, in World War I, at the same time a number of other kinsmen died, prompted his delving into the supernatural.
In any case, spiritualism and magic were all in the air in the early years of the 20th century. "The Origin of Species" was published in 1859 and brought science into direct conflict with established religious beliefs. It may be that ghosts, fairies, active spirits, and the like may have been an unconscious social attempt to find some viable middle ground between the real and the unreal.
That, of course, is all beside the point. Conan-Doyle seems a proper but jovial Victorian gentleman. The epitaph on his headstone reads: " "Steel true/Blade straight/Arthur Conan Doyle/Knight/Patriot, Physician, and man of letters".