104: The Seventh Victim

            I’m not quite sure what to make of the Val Lewton produced The Seventh Victim (1943).  It’s one of a string of well-regarded horror/suspense pictures that Lewton put together for RKO studios in the early forties, but it’s certainly not the best, as the 1001 text suggests.  I found the Lewton touch much more satisfying with both I Walked with a Zombie (also 1943) and The Body Snatcher (1945).  Despite this difference of opinion, I’ll concede that any movie fan should see at least one Lewton picture.  The Seventh Victim would serve as a good enough introduction to his work I suppose, but should not be given precedence over the likes of his Cat People (1942).

            If you’re a regular reader I’m sure you’ve noted my attention to the film’s producer here, where I typically, as any good auteur subscriber would, give primary consideration to direction.  The Seventh Victim was directed by Mark Robson, who helms the picture well enough, but Lewton was the driving force.  The movie is available on DVD from Warner Bros. Home Entertainment contained in a “Val Lewton Horror Collection”, and what’s good enough for WB is good enough for me to ascribe credit.  These films in fact hold great importance in this regard as they represent the era in which the power over production began to rest with directors as opposed to producers.  Lewton wasn’t the last tycoon, but he’s evocative of a breed that began to die out in the 1940s.  One thing is certain.  The pictures he produced for RKO, though not masterpieces do hold a significant place in film history as staples of WWII era horror.

            Lewton movies often featured dynamic female leads, and The Seventh Victim is no exception.  Here, in her film debut, Kim Hunter plays Mary Gibson, an orphan searching the streets of Manhattan for her estranged older sister, Jacqueline (Jean Brooks).  The elder sister has sold her business and disappeared while Mary was away at school, leaving the younger girl desperate for tuition.  No one at the beauty parlor Jacqueline owned seems to know her whereabouts or appears to be too eager to have her found.  She’s been spotted at a rented room above a restaurant, but the apartment contains only a chair and a noose hanging from a rafter.  Private investigators offer their services to Mary, but seem to be more eager to conceal information than divulge it while a friendly lawyer and a suspicious psychologist seem more interested than perhaps they should be in the case.

            The plot here is ridiculous; full of holes and conversations that negate themselves.  At a crucial moment in a police station a man says something to a squirrelly PI that completely betrays his reason for saying it.  Characters develop relationships that destroy their reasons for ever uniting in the first place.  Men lurk in alleys and on subways with looks on their faces that all but openly proclaim their malicious intent.  Motivations are not so much explained as ingrained in characters to advance the plot, and it all boils down to a cadre of brainwashing devil worshipers.  Hunter plays along and does what she can to carry the film, but the whole thing functions better in sequences than in a vain attempt at a cohesive story.

            The Seventh Victim ends on an appropriately eerie note, but not one that affectively resolves the numerous avenues that the film meanders down.  It has a unique feel as a blend between horror and the emerging noir genre of its time, but it misses the mark when it comes to basic elements of story.  Lewton made better films than this in his short life (1904-1951) and was always at his best when he kept things simple.  The Seventh Victim is a movie that takes the simple and tries to add complexity; never a wise attempt on celluloid.

Language: English

Runtime: 71 Minutes

Available through Netflix.com

Grade: 1.5 Hats Off