This early effort from Alfred Hitchcock is a thoroughly entertaining, albeit dated, thriller which anticipates many of the trademarks that were later to become synonymous with the director. For example, much of the action takes place in a single set a concept that Hitchcock would later use in movies like Lifeboat, Rope and Rear Window. This film also climaxes with an exciting set piece action sequence, another distinctive characteristic of later Hitchcock movies (e.g The Thirty Nine Steps, Saboteur, North By Northwest, etc.) Modern-day viewers will undoubtedly find Number Seventeen a rather primitive affair, but taken in the context of when it was made it is an intriguing, interesting thriller that any Hitch enthusiast should try to see at least once.
Undercover detective Barton (John Stuart) turns up at an unoccupied house no. 17 on its particular street. Inside the house, he finds a scruffy old tramp named Ben (Leon M. Lion), who claims that he entered the building looking for somewhere warm to spend the night, and an unconscious man who seems to have been struck on the head. Later, a girl named Rose Ackroyd (Ann Casson) also turns up in the house, claiming that she is looking for her father. Gradually it becomes clear that the house is the chosen rendezvous point for a gang of jewel thieves who have stolen a valuable necklace. The gang have chosen this particular house firstly because it is unoccupied, and secondly because it offers fast access to an adjacent railway yard, from which they plan to board a continent-bound train as part of their getaway plan. Members of the gang include Brant (Donald Calthrop), Doyle (Barry Jones), Sheldrake (Garry Marsh) and a mysterious "mute" girl (Anne Grey) who turns out to be no mute at all! In a frenetic climax, the bewildered Ben finds himself trapped on a runaway train with the gang, while Barton chases them to their departure point aboard a bus full of panic-stricken passengers.
Number Seventeen is slightly static for its opening forty minutes or so. The entire story up to this point unfolds inside house no. 17, with much talk and exposition of character and plot. Lion has the best of this opening section, showing a nice sense of comic timing but also a talent for the dramatic as the luckless old hobo. Some of the editing during this initial section is a little jerky, and the dim lighting plus fuzzy sound quality make a few moments rather confusing. However, there's sufficient build-up of atmosphere and intrigue to make the opening act tolerable. The film really leaps into life as the gang make their getaway aboard the continental train. Despite crude special effects including some very underwhelming model shots the sequence manages to generate real excitement, certainly for a 1932 release! It also shows Hitchcock's mastery of cross-cutting and remarkable cinematic fluency, piecing together the entire sequence with great precision and organisation. Number Seventeen may well be a forgotten Hitchcock, but admirers of the director should definitely keep an eye out for it.
Undercover detective Barton (John Stuart) turns up at an unoccupied house no. 17 on its particular street. Inside the house, he finds a scruffy old tramp named Ben (Leon M. Lion), who claims that he entered the building looking for somewhere warm to spend the night, and an unconscious man who seems to have been struck on the head. Later, a girl named Rose Ackroyd (Ann Casson) also turns up in the house, claiming that she is looking for her father. Gradually it becomes clear that the house is the chosen rendezvous point for a gang of jewel thieves who have stolen a valuable necklace. The gang have chosen this particular house firstly because it is unoccupied, and secondly because it offers fast access to an adjacent railway yard, from which they plan to board a continent-bound train as part of their getaway plan. Members of the gang include Brant (Donald Calthrop), Doyle (Barry Jones), Sheldrake (Garry Marsh) and a mysterious "mute" girl (Anne Grey) who turns out to be no mute at all! In a frenetic climax, the bewildered Ben finds himself trapped on a runaway train with the gang, while Barton chases them to their departure point aboard a bus full of panic-stricken passengers.
Number Seventeen is slightly static for its opening forty minutes or so. The entire story up to this point unfolds inside house no. 17, with much talk and exposition of character and plot. Lion has the best of this opening section, showing a nice sense of comic timing but also a talent for the dramatic as the luckless old hobo. Some of the editing during this initial section is a little jerky, and the dim lighting plus fuzzy sound quality make a few moments rather confusing. However, there's sufficient build-up of atmosphere and intrigue to make the opening act tolerable. The film really leaps into life as the gang make their getaway aboard the continental train. Despite crude special effects including some very underwhelming model shots the sequence manages to generate real excitement, certainly for a 1932 release! It also shows Hitchcock's mastery of cross-cutting and remarkable cinematic fluency, piecing together the entire sequence with great precision and organisation. Number Seventeen may well be a forgotten Hitchcock, but admirers of the director should definitely keep an eye out for it.