7 Portas do Destino

A murder mystery in which there are shots in the dark and a fleeing woman carjacks a ride. Later the two become suspects in what may be a double murder. There are lots of other suspects and creepy people all intertwined in one way or another.

The seven doors come from seven apartments or businesses that all share the same basement. Murder, missing jewels, and even a mummy case; what does it all mean?

This could easily have been and can be a stage production as all the action takes place in a confined space and the dialog seldom overlaps.

We get to follow the suspected partners in crime as they attempt to track down the real culprit(s) before being charged his/herself. There are lots of opportunities to speculate and kibitz.

The film needs a lot of restoring as it is blurry and dark.

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.

Only in the cinema could the romantic relationship of a model and a cabbie ever could happen. They don't usually happen even in film unless the cabbie is an exiled prince or something like that. But in Seven Doors To Death cabbie Chick Chandler hooks up with model June Clyde to solve a big mystery with several deaths involving jewels and the ownership of an apartment complex.

Chandler's dragged in unwillingly at the point of a gun by Clyde who commandeers him and his cab. She's fleeing a murder scene and Chandler's cab is totaled. After that Chandler declares himself a detective and of course solves the mystery.

The courtyard apartment complex looked something like the one in Rear Window where Jimmy Stewart watched the parade of life. Of course Rear Window is a far better film.

The cheap and tacky sets and inferior sound mark this PRC release. But most of all I couldn't accept the premise or Chandler as a romantic lead.

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.

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.