March 30, 2018
Number 17 – UK, 1932
The less you think about Number
17 after watching it, the more you’ll enjoy it. I say this from experience,
for in the first thirty minutes post-viewing, the film began to fall apart.
Inconsistencies in the plot became crystal clear, character motivations became
opaque, and what had seemed like plausible revelations began to look like anything
but. In fact, had I not thought about the film so much afterwards, I might have
given it three stars. Now I’m not so sure.
For example, consider the film’s opening scene. A ferocious
wind is revealed to have blown a man’s hat off. We witness the hat make its way
down the street and then take an abrupt turn into the walkway of a supposedly
empty house. The owner of the hat enters the picture, quickly retrieves said
hat, and then notices some unusual shadowy movements in the house. Now if this
character is just one of your average Joes, it would make sense for him to
alert the police right away. However, many of Hitchcock’s protagonists have a peculiar
quirk: They insist on doing investigations themselves, and this one is no
exception.
Soon he’s asking questions of a “humorous” tramp who calls
himself Ben (Leon M. Lion) while trying to figure out what happened to a supposedly dead man
lying at the top of a circular flight of stairs. I say supposedly because none
of the characters sees fit to check him for a pulse and a few minutes later –
cue the dah dah dah – he’s gone, without
having made so much as a squeak as he exited. Soon other characters start
arriving. One falls through the roof, while some appear at the door with a card
that reads Number 17 and ask to be
given a tour of the house, despite it being rather late in the evening. The
question our hero must solve is this: Just what is so special about Room Number
17?
I have other questions, though. In no particular order, here
they are: Just why did the supposedly dead man enter the apartment, and why
doesn’t he warn our heroes about the assailant that must have hit him over the
head? Exactly where did he disappear to, and why is his daughter sneaking
across the tops of apartments looking for him if he is someone who would get a
note like the one he got earlier in the evening? If the third criminal isn’t
who he says he is and our hero is, just why does the first one hang around long
enough to get arrested and the other take a city bus hostage? If the criminals know each other beforehand,
why don’t they know the identity of the mastermind, and if they don’t know each
other, how did they pull off the crime? Since when does a hand stop a bullet, and
while I’m on the subject of unconvincing events, how exactly does a bus catch
up to an out-of-control speeding train? Believe it or not, I could go on.
And that’s precisely the problem with Number 17. It crumbles under even the tiniest bit of scrutiny, and
this renders the film a narrative mess in my mind. I’m still not sure who knew
what when or why particular characters made the choices they did. Add to this
the annoying distraction caused by Hitchcoch’s insistence on using Ben as comic
relief when the character is more annoying than funny, and you’ve got a film
that tries hard to be everything – a mystery, a comedy, a romance, an action film
replete with the requisite chase scenes. You name it, it’s probably got a
little of it in it. Sadly, what it’s lacking is logic.
Having said that, I must admit that I didn’t completely
dislike the film. It has some pretty good performances – chief among them, that
of Donald Calthrop – and the film’s climactic chase is both amusing and
suspenseful, even though it requires a bit a suspended belief. I also liked the
character arc of one of the henchmen’s girlfriend. If there is one character
whose motivations stand up to later scrutiny, it is hers. However, the film
errs when it tries to do more with the character in the final scene. Just
letting walk away freely would have sufficed.
And now I’m at the part of the review where I have to sum
all of my feelings in a tidy expression that best expresses my experience and
relates to casual readers my overall impression of the film. I started this
review off by saying that I would probably have given it three stars if I had
simply turned it off and not given it a
second thought, but having reread what I have written thus far, it appears that
doing so would be disingenuous. This is a film with major flaws, and not even
the efforts of a great director like Hitchcock were enough to cover them up. In
a way, I want to like it. I want to give it the benefit of the doubt, as I did
films like Flight Plan and American Hustle, yet for some reason, I
find myself unable – or unwilling – to do so. Maybe I’m harsher on films that
have directors of Hitchcock’s caliber at their helm - perhaps I just expect too
much of them. Either way, the film has not aged well in my head, and no amount
of admiration or respect for Hitchcock’s other works can make up for that.
Here, Hitchcock disappoints, but only slightly and, more importantly, only if
you can’t just finish the film and never give it a second thought. (on DVD)
2 and a half stars
*I watched the LaserLight release of the film, and there
were many instances in which I had a hard time making out what the characters
were saying. Buyer beware.
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