Seven Doors to Death

... And less! This starts out kind of nicely. A woman screams in the dark. (The whole thing was dark in the print I saw. It was not only hard to see but also hard to hear.) People then rush about. A couple suspects are immediately established. But it's downhill from there. We have mad scientists. We have mummies. We have everything but a coherent plot.

On the other hand, the major players are good. Chick Chandler is pretty decent as the male lead. (I can't call him a noir protagonist: Though this is a PRC movie clearly done very cheaply, it is not film noir.) June Cylde is good, too. And the other female lead is also. And hat a name the actress went by: Rebel Randall!

After a woman (Clyde) flees from an apartment following a series of shots, she car-jacks a passing motorist (Chandler) in order to escape and the two eventually become embroiled in a murder mystery (and a budding romance) they must solve to avoid suspicion.

Throughout their enquiries a number of potential leads emerge, Gaye plays a quirky crime-scene photographer who collects ghoulish photographs of real-life murderers and serial killers, while Casey MacGregor looks a likely suspect as the brawny, silent gardener infatuated by Rebel Randall's vivacious vixen, a high society gal with champagne tastes on a beer budget (and who bears a striking resemblance to Paulette Goddard or Hedy Lamarr).

Predictably, the sleuths manage to out-pace the clueless detective (Raffetto), closing the case in record time (61 minutes, in fact, Chandler solves the mystery in 50 minutes), and not a moment too soon as far as I was concerned. Lightweight and lacking suspense, it's not a howler, just an average B-picture mystery displaying little originality or excitement.

The seven deadly doors open off a very pretty open courtyard. Right away I was scared— probably because I could have actually paid money to see this mess. If you can figure out the plot, the physics department may have a place for you. Poverty row PRC really cut more than corners with this one. The sets are few, and dark for more reason than atmosphere. For a supposed mystery, there's about as much suspense as watching a clock tick. But then it is 1944, and wartime audiences need any kind of escape. That's probably why usual sidekick Chick Chandler gets a shot at the lead and shows why he was better as a sidekick. He seems not to be taking anything too seriously. The highpoint may well be half-dressed Rebel Randall's shimmy and shake that unfortunately doesn't come til near the end. Otherwise, there's nothing to recommend in this woeful programmer.

A garrulous but slick PRC quickie with a sharp line in cynical wit, atmospherically lit by Robert Cline and fluidly directed by silent veteran Elmer Clifton, with a personable hero in Chick Chandler (who drives a car called Genevieve, which I don't think we actually see), plenty of mad or shifty-looking suspects and a couple of glamorous but tough broads with big forties shoulders (one of whom brawls energetically with the hero at one point).

The villain's modus operandi proves startlingly gruesome; anticipating real life psycho Ed Gein a few years later.

Unfortunately a boring flick, and obviously the only way to see it is the butchered bootleg Public Domain version, which is so blurry and dark that at times you have hard time making out where the screen is. The leading actors are a nuisance. The man spends most of his screen time trying to appear nonchalant, charming and sexy, forgetting totally what the film is about and that he is a murder suspect because of some dame who played him for a goose to start with. The dame herself merely walks through the flick, being dignified if she's not busy appearing cute. It's a rather badly written stuff, never interesting or witty. No good camera work, no memorable soundtrack, no glamorous actresses or atmospheric sets. It only scratches the surface of the genre, and nothing happens if you miss this totally missable flick.