Hitchcock hadn't yet hit his stride but some of the effort he invested in developing his style is on display here. Basically a whodunnit, Hitchcock uses several stylistic devices, some of which work.
Example of one that works: when we first see the crowded room in which a murder has just taken place, the shot opens on the stunned face of a constable staring down at the body, then the camera pans slowly over the blank face of a woman sitting next to him, then down her arm to the handle of a poker lying on the floor, then up along the staff of the poker, slowly over a few spots of blood on the carpet, and finally we see the victim's body, her face turned away from the camera.
Example of a stylistic experiment that does not work: in the jury room everyone votes "guilty" except for Sir John (Herbert Marshall). He's the lone holdout. (I was beginning to think the movie should have been called "Twelve British Men.") In defense of the accused woman, Sir John makes a few feeble points. Hitchcock cuts quickly to the faces of the other jurors as they shout ripostes at him -- "What about the poker?", "And her dress allover blood!" Then, in chorus, they crowd around him and shout, "Do you have any answer for THAT, Sir John?" It's a little distracting because it doesn't fit into the film itself, which is fairly straightforwardly told. Also distracting, though not anyone's fault, is the sound, which was necessarily pretty primitive at the time. If someone brings a radio into a bathroom we have to listen to a fake broadcast in which someone off camera reads bulletins. Meanwhile two people are trying to talk, but it's hard to hear them because their conversation is eclipsed by the voice of the newsreader.
But never mind all that. Whether or not it's technically perfect, it has an interesting plot and Hitchcock works in some of his later concerns -- I'm trying to avoid saying "obsessions". There are multiple closeups of food. One is a fantasy of an elaborate dinner spread. The heavy is a "half-caste," which is to say he's gay. Easy enough to crack the code when the guy has a high, squeaky voice, dresses as a female impersonator in two independent venues, applies his makeup with relish, wears a never-changing expression of vampish languour, and extinguishes his cigarette fussily and with one pinky raised even higher than the British pouf norm. Hitch extends him some sympathy too. "Poor devil." An interesting movie, not just for its historical value but for its own qualities.
Example of one that works: when we first see the crowded room in which a murder has just taken place, the shot opens on the stunned face of a constable staring down at the body, then the camera pans slowly over the blank face of a woman sitting next to him, then down her arm to the handle of a poker lying on the floor, then up along the staff of the poker, slowly over a few spots of blood on the carpet, and finally we see the victim's body, her face turned away from the camera.
Example of a stylistic experiment that does not work: in the jury room everyone votes "guilty" except for Sir John (Herbert Marshall). He's the lone holdout. (I was beginning to think the movie should have been called "Twelve British Men.") In defense of the accused woman, Sir John makes a few feeble points. Hitchcock cuts quickly to the faces of the other jurors as they shout ripostes at him -- "What about the poker?", "And her dress allover blood!" Then, in chorus, they crowd around him and shout, "Do you have any answer for THAT, Sir John?" It's a little distracting because it doesn't fit into the film itself, which is fairly straightforwardly told. Also distracting, though not anyone's fault, is the sound, which was necessarily pretty primitive at the time. If someone brings a radio into a bathroom we have to listen to a fake broadcast in which someone off camera reads bulletins. Meanwhile two people are trying to talk, but it's hard to hear them because their conversation is eclipsed by the voice of the newsreader.
But never mind all that. Whether or not it's technically perfect, it has an interesting plot and Hitchcock works in some of his later concerns -- I'm trying to avoid saying "obsessions". There are multiple closeups of food. One is a fantasy of an elaborate dinner spread. The heavy is a "half-caste," which is to say he's gay. Easy enough to crack the code when the guy has a high, squeaky voice, dresses as a female impersonator in two independent venues, applies his makeup with relish, wears a never-changing expression of vampish languour, and extinguishes his cigarette fussily and with one pinky raised even higher than the British pouf norm. Hitch extends him some sympathy too. "Poor devil." An interesting movie, not just for its historical value but for its own qualities.