The first time I watched this film, I could barely differentiate characters I was so unused to watching old, high-contrast B&W films. By the third time around, I had made everything out and it became one of my favorite movies of all time. The 50's remake, though James Stewart is one of my favorite personalities in the history of civilization, just isn't the same film.
First and foremost, Peter Lorre. Anyone who has seen him in M, then laments his minor roles in Hollywood films, should see this film. It's too bad that Hollywood couldn't create more roles like this for him. Abbott is one of the greatest of Hitchcock's sympathetic villains... better than Claude Rains in Notorious, better than James Mason in North by Northwest, comparing favorably to Robert Walker in Strangers on a Train and Shadow of a Doubt's Joseph Cotton, in a fraction of the screen time. He is charming, well-mannered, and portrays more warmth, humanity, and poetry in his words and actions than any of the above.
On the other hand, he is an assassination plotter and kidnapper and this is light-hearted entertainment (unlike the second version, which is all nerves and no wit).
The cinematography is wonderful. The thing I love most about very early Hitchcock is the German influence (he interned at UFA and his first film, the Pleasure Garden, was a German co-production). Of all of Hitchcock's great works, this is the one most in tune with the aesthetics of silent film, and an important benchmark for one of the few directors whose careers encompass so much of film history. Even the classic 39 Steps filmed the following year does not make such extensive use of "camera tricks" (as Hitch would come to deride them later in his career).
The closeups of Frank Vosper's hair, the pin associated with Nova Pilbeam, the POV shots of Edna Best's fainting and Hugh Wakefield tuning out at the church, the entire Albert Hall sequence... they're wonderful touches from the era of telling stories strictly through pictures that you just won't find even in Hitch's later British work. There are plenty of striking frame compositions (over the shoulder, through the gate, formations of people, and that beautiful shot towards the beginning of silhouetted father and daughter looking out the window at Mum) and revealing pans a la Carl Dreyer (my favorite are when Peter Lorre swirls from Vosper to Leslie Bank's face as the music on the radio crescendos, Banks raising a cigarette to his mouth... and at the very end with the police, camera pans to the door, rifles rise.)
Hitch also milks the soundtrack for all it's worth. The early films of both Lang and Hitch stick out for their creative and stylistic use of sound. Most overtly, M had Peer Gynt, The Man Who Knew Too Much has the Stormcloud Cantata. There are plenty of more subtle audio cues, the best of which is Peter Lorre's chiming pocket watch. Using music as a cover-up is a motif, as well as sounds of warning and interruption. Compare and contrast the instances, intelligent patterns emerge. This is one well thought out little thriller.
When the characters talk, they usually have something clever to say. Leslie Banks has the perfect voice for delivering the obligatory dry British wit... "just leave me a bone on the mat," "sir, you have beaten my wife and she has run off with another man... you are a dirty dog," and, my favorite, "has it been fireproofed?" But if Banks has the best lines, Lorre has the best speech, in the scene setting up the Albert Hall sequence. **possible spoilers on horizon** In the 50's version, this scene is purely informational, basically the villains filling in the audience on the particulars of the plot. But in the original, this is the money scene. Lorre brings in little Nova for a "touching scene" of father and daughter reunited, relates with flair and humor the assassination setup to Vosper, then the whole "Shakespeare... a great poet" speech. Nova is torn from Daddy and the scene ends with a closeup of the obviously moved Lorre, slowly casting his eyes down. Also scope that earlier quick cutaway shot of him, eyes downcast, framed by four co-conspirators. Nice composition.
Is the acting solid? Wouldn't normal people be really thrown off by these events, like in the 50's version or the more recent Ransom? Let's say the acting is great in the context of the film. Banks and Lorre, of course, carry the film. Cicely Oates is a prototypical Mrs. Danvers. Nova Pilbeam, who I never noticed much until after watching Young and Innocent, smiles, frowns, looks back and forth between adults, and cries "daddy, daddy!" to sink your heart. Lovely. Edna Best turns away from the camera to show she is crying. She gets nicely worked up in the Albert Hall sequence, but she has nothing on Doris Day in the remake (nor Frank Vosper on Reggie Nalder). But the camerawork carries the day. Kudos also to the bit parts of all the policemen at the end. The many brief but poignant (or at the very least discernible) characterizations keep us caring after the emphasis shifts from the main characters.
An extremely subjective 10 out of 10. This is not a "great film" in the manner of M or Shadow of a Doubt. It's mind and eye candy, probably best appreciated by silent film buffs. I'd recommend it to students of German expressionism, fans of early Lang, etc. And, of course, British Hitch fans shouldn't overlook this in all the accolades given to 39 Steps and Lady Vanishes. Same goes for Young and Innocent and Sabotage. Even Secret Agent has interesting things about it, though not that many and Peter Lorre is reduced to a role more like the kind he is delegated to in many a Humphrey Bogart movie.
First and foremost, Peter Lorre. Anyone who has seen him in M, then laments his minor roles in Hollywood films, should see this film. It's too bad that Hollywood couldn't create more roles like this for him. Abbott is one of the greatest of Hitchcock's sympathetic villains... better than Claude Rains in Notorious, better than James Mason in North by Northwest, comparing favorably to Robert Walker in Strangers on a Train and Shadow of a Doubt's Joseph Cotton, in a fraction of the screen time. He is charming, well-mannered, and portrays more warmth, humanity, and poetry in his words and actions than any of the above.
On the other hand, he is an assassination plotter and kidnapper and this is light-hearted entertainment (unlike the second version, which is all nerves and no wit).
The cinematography is wonderful. The thing I love most about very early Hitchcock is the German influence (he interned at UFA and his first film, the Pleasure Garden, was a German co-production). Of all of Hitchcock's great works, this is the one most in tune with the aesthetics of silent film, and an important benchmark for one of the few directors whose careers encompass so much of film history. Even the classic 39 Steps filmed the following year does not make such extensive use of "camera tricks" (as Hitch would come to deride them later in his career).
The closeups of Frank Vosper's hair, the pin associated with Nova Pilbeam, the POV shots of Edna Best's fainting and Hugh Wakefield tuning out at the church, the entire Albert Hall sequence... they're wonderful touches from the era of telling stories strictly through pictures that you just won't find even in Hitch's later British work. There are plenty of striking frame compositions (over the shoulder, through the gate, formations of people, and that beautiful shot towards the beginning of silhouetted father and daughter looking out the window at Mum) and revealing pans a la Carl Dreyer (my favorite are when Peter Lorre swirls from Vosper to Leslie Bank's face as the music on the radio crescendos, Banks raising a cigarette to his mouth... and at the very end with the police, camera pans to the door, rifles rise.)
Hitch also milks the soundtrack for all it's worth. The early films of both Lang and Hitch stick out for their creative and stylistic use of sound. Most overtly, M had Peer Gynt, The Man Who Knew Too Much has the Stormcloud Cantata. There are plenty of more subtle audio cues, the best of which is Peter Lorre's chiming pocket watch. Using music as a cover-up is a motif, as well as sounds of warning and interruption. Compare and contrast the instances, intelligent patterns emerge. This is one well thought out little thriller.
When the characters talk, they usually have something clever to say. Leslie Banks has the perfect voice for delivering the obligatory dry British wit... "just leave me a bone on the mat," "sir, you have beaten my wife and she has run off with another man... you are a dirty dog," and, my favorite, "has it been fireproofed?" But if Banks has the best lines, Lorre has the best speech, in the scene setting up the Albert Hall sequence. **possible spoilers on horizon** In the 50's version, this scene is purely informational, basically the villains filling in the audience on the particulars of the plot. But in the original, this is the money scene. Lorre brings in little Nova for a "touching scene" of father and daughter reunited, relates with flair and humor the assassination setup to Vosper, then the whole "Shakespeare... a great poet" speech. Nova is torn from Daddy and the scene ends with a closeup of the obviously moved Lorre, slowly casting his eyes down. Also scope that earlier quick cutaway shot of him, eyes downcast, framed by four co-conspirators. Nice composition.
Is the acting solid? Wouldn't normal people be really thrown off by these events, like in the 50's version or the more recent Ransom? Let's say the acting is great in the context of the film. Banks and Lorre, of course, carry the film. Cicely Oates is a prototypical Mrs. Danvers. Nova Pilbeam, who I never noticed much until after watching Young and Innocent, smiles, frowns, looks back and forth between adults, and cries "daddy, daddy!" to sink your heart. Lovely. Edna Best turns away from the camera to show she is crying. She gets nicely worked up in the Albert Hall sequence, but she has nothing on Doris Day in the remake (nor Frank Vosper on Reggie Nalder). But the camerawork carries the day. Kudos also to the bit parts of all the policemen at the end. The many brief but poignant (or at the very least discernible) characterizations keep us caring after the emphasis shifts from the main characters.
An extremely subjective 10 out of 10. This is not a "great film" in the manner of M or Shadow of a Doubt. It's mind and eye candy, probably best appreciated by silent film buffs. I'd recommend it to students of German expressionism, fans of early Lang, etc. And, of course, British Hitch fans shouldn't overlook this in all the accolades given to 39 Steps and Lady Vanishes. Same goes for Young and Innocent and Sabotage. Even Secret Agent has interesting things about it, though not that many and Peter Lorre is reduced to a role more like the kind he is delegated to in many a Humphrey Bogart movie.