L'assassin habite... au 21

This film is about a series of murders all done, apparently, by someone calling themselves 'Mr. Durand'. At the scene of every murder, they leave a calling card taking credit for the killings and Inspector Wens is determined to get to the bottom of it. The trail leads to a boarding house and, with the unwelcome help of Mila, he will attempt to solve these horrible crimes.

Henri-Georges Clouzot directed some wonderful French thrillers and is one of the best directors of his age. Films like his "Le Corbeau", "Quai des Orfèvres", "Wages of Fear" and "Diabolique" are brilliant and must be seen. However, in this early film, "The Murderer Lives at Number 21" he does not show the greatness that would make him famous. It's decent--but also a bit annoying. Why annoying? Because Clouzot was wonderful with suspense but combining suspense with comedy was a big mistake--making this an enjoyable but lightweight film. I say lightweight because some of the acting is so incredibly broad that scenes with Mila (Suzy Delair) are often a bit painful. Overall, it is worth seeing--but don't expect his later brilliance.

Henri-Georges Clouzot's solo feauture-length directing debut (which he also co-wrote) was certainly an auspicious one; the film is closer to American "commercial" entertainment than to French "art" cinema, but that's not a bad thing. Lots of humor (like an early scene depicting the bureaucratic ladder of the French police), some great POV camerawork, a terrific music score that bursts out at key moments, a delightful Suzy Delair as the French equivalent of Lucille Ball, and above all a totally surprising resolution that I almost guarantee you will not guess ahead of time. Highly recommended. Only flaw: a hurried final scene. *** out of 4.

On a street, there is a house at 21, several residents reside, each has a room, and one contains a killer, in this extremely thrilling (in the sense of enjoyable) chiller, but do not pre-empt the culprit, do not presume. Inspector Wens decides to take one of the rooms, as the killings continue, suspects assumed, they're arrested and locked up, but cadavers still pop up, though the suspects are reduced, so you assume.

A wonderful piece of whodunit filmmaking that leaves you scratching your head while smiling at the antics of L'inspecteur Wenceslas Wens and his partner Mila Malou, as they sift through the curious souls who inhabit number 21, in their search for the murderer, Monsieur Durand.

This was Clouzot's directing debut, having graduated from being a screenwriter feeling that his script for Le dernier des six was implemented by Georges Lacombe to the letter, and yet not being satisfied with the result. It's a murder mystery based on a novel by the same author behind Le dernier des six, Clouzot adds comic touches which act as kindling to set the fire alight.

Stylistically they're very different, and yet it feels like Paul Verhoeven and Henri-Georges Clouzot were cut from the same philosophical cloth. It seems under-remarked upon that L'assassin habite a 21 is a pretty anti-clerical movie, there's blasphemous jokes about the celibacy of Catholic priests and the Holy Trinity. You also get the feeling, from this movie made under the Occupation, that this is a "Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right" kind of movie, where the French characters are shown with acid misanthropy, but also, that the allusions to the Nazis, really trivialise them, in the manner of Lubitsch. The final scene of the movie contains a quite hilarious snub of the Nazis that is brazen but too droll for any Nazi to catch.

Clouzot worked for Continental-Films, which was controlled by the Nazis, its chief Alfred Greven reporting directly to Max Winkler the Reichsbeauftragter (Reich Commissioner) for German films. Clouzot attended parties with Greven and his mistresses, with his own mistress Suzy Delair (Mina Milou, the female lead of this movie). I get this feeling like with some of Verhoeven's characters in Black Book, that they were riding the tiger's back, trying to survive and enjoy themselves in a world of mad people. There's a feeling when a character dies that it's a Darwinian incident, that you're an idiot if you flash money around and wander the streets at night when there is a spate of robbery homicides going on in your district.

There's a swagger to the direction of this film, a boastful assuredness that I found really refreshing. There is also a balance to the characteristic misanthropy of Clouzot's film, an offsetting humour. I think Clouzot belongs up there with Nabokov and Verhoeven as supremely competent individuals laughing in the dark. L'assassin habite a 21 was quite the guilty pleasure for me!

This light murder mystery, with Pierre Fresnay as the cool detective and the delightful (if a bit overwhelming) Suzy Delair as his "sidekick," somewhat a la Nick & Nora Charles, is in style and casting (Fresnay, Pierre Larquey, Noel Roquevert), sexual tension, even theme - the ambiguity of criminal responsibility - a prelude to Clouzot's far more significant Le corbeau (1943). The Fresnay-Delair duo brings fresh air to the claustrophobic space of Vichy cinema.