terça-feira, abril 04, 2023

Number Seventeen (1932)

I must confess this one was tough to watch. It it wasn't a Hitchcock - the last one he made for British International Pictures -, I would have given up within the first ten minutes. Plot never made sense to me and even if it picks up some audacious sequences - oh boy, the master of suspense really liked trains - and a sort of McGuffin by the end, everything that led there was simply a boring mess, not only technically - acting and editing - but specially storywise.

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