And just when I thought the title worked like a final revelation, it just ended up being the starter of the second act of Henri-George Clouzot's classic film's debut
which makes sense. Why would you tell right from the start where the villain lives except if the 21 number is a very broad information, like the location of a seedy pension occupied by people who doesn't strike as the most recommendable ones. There are obviously four or five potential murderers and the trick is to know 'who done it'?
And whodunit is the word, as the film opens with a murder that is as violent and merciless as it's cleverly shot. A bum who's just won at the lottery spent the whole time buying drinks and bragging about things he doesn't have the slightest notion about, the bar opening allows us to have a few discussions about the mysterious serial killer who torments Parisian street (maybe a nod to a villainous regime that brandished its flag on the Eiffel Tower). The killer's trademark is to leave mysterious cards with the name 'Monsieur Durand', but totally oblivious to the threats, the imbibed hobo goes his way home Then, in a nice technical twist, a banal traveling shot took more dramatic proportion, the man walked faster as if he tried to escape from the camera, instantly marking the villain's POV.
Clouzot has often been referred as the second Hitchcock and I suspect this has more or less to do with his 'smaller' (in quantity but not quality) body of work. But Clouzot is a legitimate Master of Suspense and the murder scene would have made Hitch very proud, and the two men have more in common than the use of suspense and tricky shots, they had some dark sense of humor. Clouzot's humor would confine to cynicism and a rather pessimistic take on human nature, but aftermath scenes are oddly lighthearted and funny. The last killing being one too many, it threatened the Ministry of Interior's position, so we witness a series of orders' transfer from one hierarchy to another, and the lower the status is, the smaller the delay and the less polite the injunction. It all ends with Detective Wens (Pierre Fresnay) having two days to investigate the murder.
The movie loses its way a little for exposition's sake, so we get to know Wens' noisy girlfriend, a wannabe stage artist named Mila and played by Suzy Delair (who was the voluptuous singer in "Quai des Orfèvres"), she hears from a manager that he only hires people who make the headlines, so for some reason, she decides to look for the mysterious murderer. That doesn't really make sense, nor the fact that the two leads are too opposite to satisfy as a couple. Fresnay plays a sort of French version Sherlock Holmes, (the original play was actually set in London), he's sophisticated and histrionic while Mila is more of a popular street-smart Parisian girl. Thankfully, the film promptly gets to the point where a snitch reveals where the murderer lives.
So Wens enters the pension, disguised as a pastor, and discovers some odds but colorful occupants many of them, like Fresnay and Delair are Clouzot regulars and it's one of the film's delights to see them interact and compete in terms of nastiness. The obligatory Pierre Marquay is Collin, a man who manufactures headless puppets as tributes to the criminal, Noel Roquevert, who played nicer and more gentlemanly persons, is an embittered doctor with a criminal record, and Jean Tissier is Professor Lallah-Poor, a turban-wearing master of illusions, there's also a blind ex-boxer with a beautiful nurse (Huguette Vivier), a wannabe writer (Maximilienne), an overweight manager and a janitor who spends time whistling and imitating animal sounds.
At that point, you expect the rest of the film to go like these one-location Agatha Christie-like mysteries novels, enjoying the delightful exchanges and the great performances from all the protagonists until Wens spots the guilty one. Speaking of this, I thought Fresnay as the ringmaster played his part in a s slightly over-the-top way, even when he's not supposed to act in the film, he would be more restrained and dramatic in Clouzot's next film "Le Corbeau") but this is a minor flaw, easy to overlook. If you love a movie to go beyond your expectations, to give you a little more than what you expect, this is the film. And it all occurs in that great third act.
Not only it provides a satisfying resolution to the plot, but also a very clever one, that should have inspired a Hitchcock movie without even him being accused of plagiarizing. As a matter of fact, the plot is so original that I can't recall a famous movie working on the same basis. And originality is certainly one of Clouzot's strongest suits, as his equally suspenseful and thrilling movies never relies on the same schemes and they always manage to wow the audience, while making an interesting social commentary on a specific business or demography of French society, here it can be argued that the Police isn't shown under the kindest light, which in the context of occupied France, makes sense.
Speaking of the Occupation, I found the concluding shot rather puzzling until I discovered it was one of the greatest finger gestures toward the Nazi occupants, which also proves where Clouzot stood for and it went unnoticed by censors because it was both ingenuous and subtle; and so full of promises of the emerging talent of a director whose legacy has so much been overshadowed by Hitchcock.
