THE MURDERER LIVES AT NUMBER 21 - An early film from the great French writer- director Henri-Georges Clouzot. There is serial killer loose on the streets of Paris and the police seem unable to catch him. Every time he strikes he leaves a business card with the name M. Durand at the crime scene. The government leans on the mayor for action, he in turn leans on the Police chief who does the same to the chief of detectives and so on and so on. Having finally reached the bottom of the command structure we find a detective Wens. Wens is played by Pierre Fresnay. Wens is given a week to solve the case or resign. He catches a break when a 2nd rate burglar is brought in to be locked up. He is willing to trade some info for a get out of jail free. It seems that while he was pulling a job at a rooming house he found a box full of the M.Durand cards. He does not recall which room but gives the detective the house number and street. Early next morning Wens calls on the rooming house while disguised as a priest from the country. Over a meal he meets the other residents who are a who's who of mystery stereotypes. The writer, the toymaker, the doctor, the lounge singer, the out of work sideshow knife thrower etc. When one of the guests is done in he puts the grab on the knife man. Opps! While in custody there is another killing so out the door goes the knife thrower while the doctor is grabbed up. They are giving him the third degree when there is another murder. Out the door the doctor goes and in comes the toymaker! Finally Wens tumbles to the fact there is more than one killer. Every time one of their group is arrested they commit a new murder which causes the baffled cops to believe they have the wrong person.

The rest of the cast includes, Suzy Delair, Jean Tissier, Jean Desqecux, Pierre Larqvey and Noel Roquevert.

The whole film is like a noir version of the Thin Man series with a hint of comedy and some real racy (for 1942) dialogue. The cinematography is simply dazzling. The opening murder is as good a bit of film-making as i've ever seen. That this film was made in Paris during the Nazi occupation makes it all the more impressive.

While not quite as good as some of Clouzot's later work, Manon, Quai des Orferes and Les Diaboliques it is highly entertaining.

My 3 cents anyway,

This film is about a series of murders all done, apparently, by someone calling themselves 'Mr. Durand'. At the scene of every murder, they leave a calling card taking credit for the killings and Inspector Wens is determined to get to the bottom of it. The trail leads to a boarding house and, with the unwelcome help of Mila, he will attempt to solve these horrible crimes.

Henri-Georges Clouzot directed some wonderful French thrillers and is one of the best directors of his age. Films like his "Le Corbeau", "Quai des Orfèvres", "Wages of Fear" and "Diabolique" are brilliant and must be seen. However, in this early film, "The Murderer Lives at Number 21" he does not show the greatness that would make him famous. It's decent--but also a bit annoying. Why annoying? Because Clouzot was wonderful with suspense but combining suspense with comedy was a big mistake--making this an enjoyable but lightweight film. I say lightweight because some of the acting is so incredibly broad that scenes with Mila (Suzy Delair) are often a bit painful. Overall, it is worth seeing--but don't expect his later brilliance.

To all intents and purposes this WAS Clouzot's first directorial effort though technically he had three previous credits (one a short) in the very early thirties. The decade or so he spent writing screenplays for others to direct wasn't wasted so that when he became a hyphenate writer-director he turned out three masterpieces one after the other (L'Assassin habite au 21, Le Corbeau and Quai des Orfevres). This first entry transposes a novel set in London to Paris - presumably because the German-owned Production company Continental dictated so - creates a plum role for his then girl friend Suzy Delair and has a little fun with a popular genre. In short there is a serial killer on the loose with a penchant for leaving a calling card bearing the name M Durand at the scene of (presumably) his crimes. Attempting to get to the bottom of it is a detective who's a sort of cross between Philo Vance and Nick Charles, i.e. he lives in a plush apartment which suggests independent means a la Vance and indulges in some light banter with his girl friend a la Charles (although, of course, Nick was married to Nora). A tip leads him to a rooming house peopled by characters probably listed as 'off-the-wall' at Central Casting. The mood is gently satirical but the in-fighting amongst the police may well have been a comment on the state of a nation under Occupation as the 'everyone is guilty' solution was almost certainly an attack on the 'informer/collaborator' syndrome prevalent at the time. When viewed with Clouzot's next film, Le Corbeau, a much more 'serious' take on a similar theme - with 'poison pen' letters substituting for physical murder - the veiled comments on French society become much clearer. A great start to a great directorial career.