La settima vittima

I'm amazed not one reviewer has mentioned the outstanding contribution by Jean Brooks as the missing Jacqueline Gibson. Although she makes a late appearance Jean is very impressive in her five scenes, particularly her monologue describing how she came to join the Palladists and her nighttime flight being pursued by the assassin with the switchblade. None of the Lord's prayer survives in the print shown on British television. This is strange as two lines were reportedly intact when the film was originally shown in British cinemas.The excellent Brooks who appeared in two other Lewton films was sadly wasted by RKO and subsequently relegated to support and bit roles.

What "The 7th Victim" has going for it is its uniqueness. It certainly is unlike any film from that era that I remember seeing.

This is one of those films that it helps to know nothing about before viewing. To read any sort of capsule about the flick would definitely take away from the enjoyment of the film.

Having said that, I am not totally satisfied with the payoffs the movie provides. There are too many gaps in logic, combined with a bit too much moralizing. Some people find themselves in situations in this film that just simply seem to lack any credibility.

For some fascinating sequences (most notably, one that takes place in a shower and seems to have been seen by Alfred Hitchcock) this film is definitely worth a look-see.

For me, the individual elements of the film was far more interesting than the sum of its parts.

Schoolgirl Kim Hunter (Mary) is called to the office of the Headmistress Ottola Nesmith and told that she can no longer stay on as a pupil as her sister Jean Brooks (Jacqueline) has stopped paying her fees. More than that, Brooks seems to have gone missing. So, Hunter goes off to find her. But Brooks isn't so easy to locate.

This film leaves you with scenes stuck in your mind, so it's good from that perspective. It is also well shot with an eerie atmosphere. Scenes that stand out include the sequence with Hunter and a detective exploring an office at night and the subsequent spooky train ride, a shower scene that will make you think of "Psycho" (1960) and pretty much every scene with Brooks. Fancy a drink? – no thanks but the pressure is on. And how about that ending? Wow, pretty bleak stuff. Especially coming after what had me cringing as we watched God and the Bible being used as a tool to counter Satan and his ways in an extremely simplistic way.

Amo, Amas, Amat, Amamus, Amatis, Amant – remember your Latin from school? The 'ablative absolute' and the 'ut' clause (use the subjunctive). Quamquam. This film also throws in some Latin and I'm glad to hear it. It takes the viewer back to a time sadly long gone as we hear schoolgirls reciting the verb 'Amo' – to love. The day will come when a generation will watch this film and not understand what language it is.

The cast are OK with Jean Brooks standing out. Her look suggests she is leader of the occult movement rather than a victim of it. And all of her scenes are quality – some genuinely scary, and all unworldly because of her appearance. That ending with the neighbour comes as a shock and leaves an eerie memory that will have you thinking about how we view life. It's an interesting film…and sad.

The Seventh Victim is directed by Mark Robson and written by DeWitt Bodeen and Charles O'Neal. It stars Tom Conway, Jean Brooks, Isabel Jewell and Kim Hunter. Music is scored by Roy Webb and cinematography by Nicholas Musuraca.

When she is told her older sister Jacqueline has vanished, Mary Gibson is forced to leave her private school and travel to New York City to hopefully find her. Obtaining help from her sister's husband, Gregory, and the suspicious help of psychiatrist, Dr. Louis Judd, Mary finds that the deeper she goes the more dangerous the situation becomes, it appears that Jacqueline has got herself involved with something very sinister indeed.

He calleth all his children by their name.

Coming as it does from producer Val Lewton, one shouldn't be surprised that The Seventh Victim is a hauntingly poetic creeper of a movie, no shocks or out and out horror here, just a genuine sense of dread and a pervading sense of doom. When delving a bit further into the making of the picture it becomes apparent that an original cut of the piece was considerably longer, this explains a lot to me as the film, as good as it is in its 71 minute form, is not fully formed and at times not the easiest to fully understand. It would seem that although originally intended as a longer mainstream picture, a difference of opinion between Lewton and the studio (thought to be about the hiring of first time director Mark Robson) meant it was cut to a B movie standard.

The Palladists.

What remains, though, isn't at all bad, in fact it's unique. Robson's direction (obviously guided by Lewton) is perfectly sedate and in keeping with the mood of the piece, and between them they have conjured up some most unforgettable scenes and imagery. One particular shower scene lingers long after the credits roll, the perfect use of a silhouette probably had a certain Alfred Hitchcock taking notes, whilst the ending is quite simply a piece of bleak and unforgettable cinema. Musuraca is the key ingredient, though, the ace cinematographer is all about the shadows, blending noir with Gothic to create atmospheric paranoia. Satanism in Greenwich Village, suicide, psychological discord and urban dread, all potent little threads dangled into the slow burn pot. But ultimately it's the mood of the picture that gets you, unease and the murky mystery ensuring you are hooked throughout. 7.5/10

As a longtime booster of The Cat People, I tended to give the credit to its director Jacques Tourneur (later to helm Out of the Past). Seeing The Seventh Victim, also from Val Lewton's B-movie unit at RKO, changed all that. It seems Lewton was the resident genius, cobbling together stylish horror/suspense films on shoestring budgets. The young Kim Hunter, away at a private school, learns that her tuition hasn't been paid because her sister, owner of a beauty empire, has disappeared. She leaves school and starts scouring New York's Greenwich Village (also the locale of much of The Cat People) only to uncover a cult of devil worshipers. Lewton's thrillers haven't dated the way James Whale's, for instance, have, possibly because they depend so heavily on suggestion; the literalness of today's "horror" films is completely alien to these suggestive, truly chilling films. The RKO B-movie unit under Lewton was also, probably, a major influence on the look of film noir, soon to become the cutting-edge aesthetic in American movies. This is as tense and satisfying a 75 minutes as you'll find until the Mann/Alton team's seminal noirs of a few years later.