There are a few themes that are the foundation for literature – love, family and death being the most prominent of them. The latter in particular is not notable, since it has spawned into many different kinds of stories, most significantly the idea of the murder mystery, which has been popular for about as long as literature has existed, but really came to be definitive when the likes of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie committed almost their entire literary careers to produce well-crafted stories that were as thrilling as they were darkly satirical about the society in which they occurred. However, the film we’re discussing today hails from neither of them (while still being one that takes inspiration from these iconic authors), but rather from Henri-Georges Clouzot, one of the most important and revolutionary filmmakers in the history of French cinema. He made his directorial debut with The Murderer Lives at Number 21 (French: ), which was an adaptation of the novel of the same title by Stanislas-André Steeman, with whom Clouzot collaborated on the screenplay. The quintessential whodunnit that asks questions that some may find quite surprising, it is a film that is ahead of its times, and incredibly influential in terms of both form and content. The collision between the director’s style and the author’s ability to weave words together beautifully creates a film that is wildly entertaining, extraordinarily imaginative and fully-committed to provoking a reaction from some of the most unexpected scenarios, which all lay the foundation for an intriguing mystery that works much better than several of the other films that occurred in its proximity, both in terms of the period in which it was made and the subject matter is addressing.

At a cursory glance, The Murderer Lives at Number 21 does not appear to be all that notable, especially since it was produced at a time when compact murder mystery films were at their peak, which was itself a forerunner of the film noir movement, which was gaining momentum during the same period. However, the longer we sit and observe the story of this criminal investigation, the further we are immersed in the discordant world that governs this film and its raggedy group of eccentric characters. There is something so fascinating about films in which everyone is a suspect – including the detective, but this is quickly overcome when it becomes clear that he is the least likely perpetrator – but he’s not let off the hook entirely, since the film is not presented from his point of view, but rather we see these events through the eyes of an absent observer – and The Murderer Lives at Number 21 is the perfect encapsulation of all of these bold ideas, rendered into a simple and provocative thriller that runs for only 80 minutes, but feels like every moment is positively bursting with potential – and with its stark attention to detail, and knowledge of how to lay down a clear plan in terms of what the audience is privy to know, and what is kept concealed throughout the film until the stunning climax, we find a film that is intricately plotted, but also inspired by a more freeform style of storytelling, where the camera moves through the gritty, working-class portions of Paris with an unexpected amount of fluidity, which makes it formally a very distinct work, and a perfect example of how strong Clouzot was from the very start of his career, many of his techniques finding their root in this remarkable film.

The Murderer Lives at Number 21 is governed by a very particular and precise style, which comes from the director’s very keen approach to the subject matter, and his willingness to experiment far beyond what had been done previously. Clouzot’s greatest achievement as an artist was his desire to push boundaries, and even if working with something as restrictive as a murder mystery (which has to be very careful about what it says – each clue needs to be fully considered, as not to give too much away), but he finds ways to subvert expectations and take us on a fascinating journey into the heart of this narrative, focusing on a simple mystery that we are invited to solve alongside the detective. The film knows exactly what needs to be said and done to get its message across and keep us invested, and it makes sure not to give too much away since there are few experiences more disappointing than solving a mystery long before it was time to reach a resolution, which is all too common with a lot of inferior entries into the genre. Information is the most powerful tool a mystery writer possesses, as is the wisdom to know the right time and place in a story to distribute it. Clouzot hands over a lot of responsibility to Steeman, who is tasked with helping bring his intricate story to the screen, which is a much bigger challenge considering how he was a writer who usually depended on the rich, evocative language in which subtle clues were placed than he did in broad strokes of plot-driven commentary. The two artists seem to find a lot of common ground, and while it may not always be as smooth as some may expect (there are a few unnecessary diversions peppered throughout), it does lead to a suitably complex and invigorating story that is both stylish and well-crafted in terms of a narrative that keeps us on the edge of our seats.

Perhaps the element that makes The Murderer Lives at Number 21 so compelling is that it is not solely a murder mystery, but combines several other concepts into its fabric, which leads to it becoming far more complex than we’d initially anticipate. While a criminal investigation is at the heart of the story, and the entire plot revolves around a detective seeking answers, the film is unexpectedly deviant in many places, almost as if it was yearning to be more than just a simple, run-of-the-mill psychological drama. Much of this emerges from the more lighthearted tone – while Christie and Doyle were known for their sardonic wit, this film is an outright comedy – it may not be a parody of the murder mystery genre, but is instead a very creative work of lighthearted fiction that satirizes society just as much as it focuses on finding a mysterious killer. Considering the story of a serial murderer who leaves his calling card at the scenes of his crime was made several decades before the likes of David Berkowitz and The Zodiac Killer (both of whom tended towards leaving insidious clues that befuddled investigators), The Murderer Lives at Number 21 has a lot of resonance, some of it quite stark. Clouzot executes it all with such precision, blurring the lines between dark comedy and horror perfectly. It does help that he is working with an ensemble of exceptional actors, all of whom seem to be perfectly willing to engage with the challenging and unconventional material – and the dark humour, while unexpected, helps give the film a strong foundation on which it was able to explore so many different parts of the world, through a deviously comedic lens.

It may be an odd way to describe it, but murder has never been quite as entertaining as it has been in The Murderer Lives at Number 21, which is one of the most compelling dark comedies of its era. This is not a traditional film by any means, but it is still rooted in a long culture of stories that are somehow fascinated by the psychology that goes into murder. It attempts to dissect the minds of suspects to find clues that lead to the mystery being solved. However, this is far from orthodox, and Clouzot crafts a film that gleefully goes off the rails in increasingly effective ways, venturing far beyond the confines of a commonplace murder mystery, and instead going in pursuit of something deeper and far more exciting. It can be quite difficult to keep up with the rapid-fire dialogue (and it is a film that is very dense in this regard – nearly all details are provided through conversation), but we know we are always secure under the director’s guiding hand since he is never going to take us on a journey where such challenges aren’t worthwhile. It feels like such a refreshing, earnest piece of cinema, driven by a sincere passion for the subject matter and a deep interest in the smallest and most intricate human details – and in both style and substance, The Murderer Lives at Number 21 is an astonishing achievement, a darkly comical satire of both human psychology and a society that often inadvertently nurtures such paranoia. A tremendous debut from one of cinema’s great masters, the film is a creative endeavour that offers a bigger reward than it does obstacles, making it an unexpectedly worthwhile voyage into the mind of a serial killer and the community that he terrorizes, as facilitated through some of the most hilariously irreverent comedy one can hope to encounter.