Numero diciassette

Early Alfred Hitchcock film that finds a bunch of criminals gathered at a house following a jewel robbery. Hot on their tail is a detective and as the tension mounts and suspicion begins to take a hold, it unravels that all is not as it at first seemed.

Hitchcock didn't want do do it, he got lumbered with it, and later in his career he would remark that the film was a disaster. While that statement is not exactly true, it is a bit of a mess of a film, but such is Hitchcock's standing in cinema, we can now view it and appreciate some nice touches whilst acknowledging it's an odd blend of chaos and drama. First two thirds is set in one darkened house full of shadows, suspicious characters and creaky dialogue. There's impressive expressionistic photography to enjoy, which is good since nothing makes much sense and it's so murky it's hard to follow the plotting. Then the story breaks out to become a pursue and chase thriller, where a number of vehicles enter the fray with a mix of models and footage blended together for desired exciting effect. Then on to the reveal and it's end credit time. Wrapped up neatly in just over an hour.

The good moments make it worth the watch, especially for Hitchcock fans who get a little taster of what would come from him further down the line. But it isn't essential Hitchcock viewing and ultimately the great director's displeasure with it says far more than any critical reviews can. 5/10

Number 17 was made at a crossroads point in Alfred Hitchcock's career. After the success of crime thrillers Blackmail and Murder!, and the mediocrities of stage adaptations Juno and The Paycock and The Skin Game, he now knew where his real strength lay. Unfortunately for him, his bosses hadn't quite caught on yet, which is why his early 30s output is rather uneven. For this, his return to the crime genre, he was lumbered with another adapted play, and a plodding and cliché-ridden one at that.

However, Hitch knew full well that Number 13 was daft pot-boiler material and so, rather than attempt to take it seriously, he and his wife (and then, closest collaborator) Alma Reville stirred it up into a farcical self-parody – adding yet more clichés, camping up the villains and piling plot twists upon plot twists. Hitchcock also used the film as an arena for technical experimentation, and as such it contains a number of Hitchcock "firsts".

By this point it was becoming increasingly important in a Hitchcock picture to immediately rope the audience in with a series of attention-grabbing, dialogue-free images, and in Number 17 the opening sequence is actually the strongest piece of film-making in the whole piece. We open with an eerie, wind-blasted street scene, into which comes an anonymous man – his back to the camera. We then follow the mystery man to the front door of the titular "Number 17" and, in a single, smooth tracking shot follow him inside. It's a neat trick to bring the audience into the action, having us become the camera and discover the environment, and yet at the same time keeping the man's identity and purpose unknown.

What follows is a steady descent into the depths of farce, with exaggerated performances, sped-up fist fights and too many ridiculous plot twists and character introductions to really keep up with. In tone it borders on that of Bride of Frankenstein. A couple of nods to the cast are in order - Donald Calthrop is the archetypal upper class criminal, and Leon Lion plays the ultimate "Lord-love-a-duck" cockney rogue. Leon Lion, who also produced Number 17, was actually a playwright.

Along the way however, Hitch gets to experiment. Silly as it is, this is really the first of Hitch's adventure thrillers, what I call the clinging-to-the-side-of-trains pictures. This type of thriller – as oppose to the more domestic crime stories of Blackmail and Murder! – would make up the best part of his late 30s work and would eventually result in North by Northwest twenty-five years later. It's also the first of his films to be mostly set in one ___location (like the later Lifeboat, Rope and Rear Window), although this seems to be more coincidental rather than the start of a trend. On top of that it's the first time Hitch gets to play with scale models, and the beginning of his recurring association with trains. Oh, and there's even the first true MacGuffin in the form of a stolen necklace.

The trouble is, because this picture is done as a genre spoof, you can't expect any of the suspense elements to work. Number 17 may contain motifs and techniques used to great effect in, say, The 39 steps and The Lady Vanishes, but it's nowhere near as exciting as those classics. And, although it's a credit to Hitch's playful touch and self-awareness, with the exception of the occasional great line from Leon Lion Number 17 isn't really very funny. It's worth watching for anyone studying Hitchcock, as a prime example of his most experimental and innovative period, but it doesn't stand up on its own as entertainment.

The plot of this early Gothic/comic thriller by Hitchcock will make your head spin. It is about as convoluted as possible, with multiple cases of mistaken identity, role-switching, cons and counter-cons. A detective has gotten a lead on a very expensive necklace which has disappeared, and expects to find it, along with the perpetrators, in an old, somewhat decrepit house. A couple of innocent bystanders wander in and find one of these characters knocked unconscious, and the rest eventually begin to pour in through the front door bit by bit, or through the ceiling, as the case may be.

Eventually, the entire cast will end up in a mad chase between a runaway train carrying the bad guys and a bus commandeered by the good guys (or so it seems).

Thoough not one of Hitchcock's best early films, Number 17 is certainly amusing and contains a lot of intentional comedy that many critics seem to want to ignore, keeps a steady, if hectic, pace and boasts some pretty affective use of miniatures for the 1930s. Recommended for fans of pre-noir thrillers and British comedy.

During his apprentice years as a director Alfred Hitchcock took all kinds of assignments, many times directing items that originated on the stage like Juno And The Paycock. Number 17 got an increase of ten in the title, it was originally a play written by Joseph Jefferson Farjeon and when it got to Broadway in 1926 it ran for about a month with a cast you would probably not know. The play itself takes place only in the abandoned house where various folks congregate on a dark night. Several are jewel robbers, one is a detective. Just who is who is not really fully revealed until the end.

Hitchcock really liked trains, he did much better with them in The Lady Vanishes and even better than that in North By Northwest. The British film industry was a lot poorer than the American one, but the fact he's using model electric trains in his high speed climax is rather obvious.

With the exception of Barry Jones who played the off balance nuclear scientist in Seven Days To Noon, no one in the cast will be any kind of familiar to the American audience. The story which is always essential to me is really hard to follow. You might take one or two viewings and you still might not get it all right.

This might just be a problem with only me, but I tend not to be able to clearly hear some of the speech of the actors in old movies like this. It could be that the film is old or the actors don't annunciate(not sure if I spelled that right) enough. Overall, the film is like what the other reviewer said: slow at first, but once you know generally what is happening, it draws you in immediately. Also, this is one film that I demand to be remade, for it looks quite dated in some parts, even a little cheesy. Another reason is that this movie should be given a wider audience. It deserves it. The remake might have to be a bit longer, though, since I'm not sure how a modern crowd would feel about paying money to see only a 63 minute movie. In summary, see this to be entertained but prepare to be forgiving for the, shall we say, "time gap."