L'assassino abita al 21

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!

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.

Henry-Georges Clouzot is one my favorite French director mainly by Quai Des Orfèvres and Le Salaire de la Peur, his debut couldn't be better, it's a magnific picture, a true perfect blend of crime, thriller and sophisticated comedy, all in high profile, the plot summary is about a serial killer who was haunting Paris, he authorities are gonna crazy and that impose an ultimate to French Police department, a short time to catch this killer self-called Mr. Durant, the skillful Inspector Wess having an information of the hideout of the killer at decaying pension at bad area, he introduces himself as a Pastor hoping get some clues to reach on the killer, there are many potential suspects, between comings and goings he reach in a killer, nevertheless all fall down even in jail another crime was committed by Mr. Durant, fabulous picture and an unexpected ending!!

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First watch: 2019 / How many: 1 / Source: DVD / Rating: 8.5

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.

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.