THE 39 STEPS (1935)

If there was ever a perfect example of what a classic spy film looked like, The 39 Steps would almost definitely be the pick. Alfred Hitchcock’s seminal espionage adventure flick has not only inspired numerous remakes and countless imitators, but practically an entire sub-genre in and of itself: an unwitting bystander being entangled in a weaving, serpentine plot, who is forced to clear his name if he is to survive.

The plot itself begins at the London Palladium, where Mr Memory (Wylie Watson), a man with prodigious recall, demonstrates his talent by rattling off a series of facts. Then there is a scramble with police. Then a gun is fired in the crowd. A mad dash for the exit ensues. When Richard Hannay (Robert Donat) makes a run for the door, he encounters Annabella Smith (Lucie Mannheim), a young woman who asks to accompany Richard home.

When she reveals that she is a mercenary spy, striving to prevent sensitive information from being leaked out of the country, Richard can only laugh. However, when he finds a knife thrust into her back, it becomes clear no jokes were made—the plot is as real as the corpse in his flat. Now Richard is embroiled in an international plot, one that powerful men will kill to keep from coming to light.

Orson Welles lauded Hitchcock’s The 39 Steps as a masterpiece. Robert Towne, the screenwriter behind one of the best screenplays ever written in Chinatown (1974), infamously remarked: “It’s not much of an exaggeration to say that all contemporary escapist entertainment begins with The 39 Steps.” Both filmmakers are wholly correct: The 39 Steps is an influential masterpiece, one that becomes better and better with each subsequent viewing. Most importantly, what makes Hitchcock’s 22nd film so lovable is that it is arguably his very first masterpiece, the harbinger of all the cinematic greatness that was to come.

Perhaps it is because of Hitchcock’s visual acuity, his natural talent for imagery. Throughout the entirety of his career, ‘The Master of Suspense’ demonstrated a keenness for conveying information—be it plot developments, threats, or twists—with visuals alone. This can be seen in the compass from Lifeboat (1944), or a burning cigarette in a dark room from Rear Window (1954). In The 39 Steps, Hitchcock makes use of potent imagery that are already symbolically loaded (a gun in a gloved hand, a knife gleaming in a dark room).

However, Hitchcock also makes new images into iconic frames: a man holds up a hand to reveal a finger missing its tip. Suddenly, we know that grave danger is nearby, and the bomb underneath the table begins ticking for the audience. It’s in scenes such as this one that we can see how simplicity was key to Hitchcock’s success; there is never a sequence in The 39 Steps that requires elaborate explanation.

This is obvious even in the inciting incident. When Annabella Smith first reveals her identity to Richard, she purrs dangerously: “Have you ever heard of the 39 Steps?” The question is loaded with intrigue and we anticipate the answer, yet it’s withheld until the film’s final moments. But true to form, Hitchcock keeps us so enthralled throughout the story that we forget this question has ever been asked. His use of the MacGuffin is practically unrivalled; once the plot is set in motion, we become so invested in the chases and suspense that all else soon feels irrelevant.

Still, while there are superbly tense moments in The 39 Steps, it is by no means his most suspenseful film, and it never tries to be either. Instead, this adventure flick is fun, exciting, and so filled with twists and turns that the 86-minute runtime simply flies by. That is because The 39 Steps is cat-and-mouse action at its finest, perhaps only surpassed by Hitchcock when he made North by Northwest (1959) almost 25 years later. The terrifying scenario of never being believed, while simultaneously being hunted for murder, is captured in frantic sequences as Richard scales the outside of a moving train, seeks refuge under waterfalls, and traverses the Scottish highlands with Scotland Yard in hot pursuit each and every time.

However, what made Hitchcock such an unbridled success was his capacity to blend comedy with suspense, dark humour with horror. He does this to scintillating effect here. When a character narrowly avoids death after a bullet is caught in a hymn book kept in the breast pocket, a police chief looks at the mangled hymn book, wryly commenting: “Some of these hymns are terrible hard to get through.” There is also great amusement to be found in the scenario when Richard is handcuffed to Pamela (Madeleine Carroll), as well as Richard’s confession to a long line of petty crimes, including, but not limited to: “Penny pilfering, pocket picking, and car pinching.”

As superlative as The 39 Steps is, it is not Hitchcock’s greatest work. While Donat and Carroll serve as ample leads in this production, they are far from the most charismatic actors to star opposite each other in a Hitchcock film. Moreover, our two leads could possess a little more chemistry. Our couple enact the belligerent relationships characteristic of many screwball comedies, like Gable and Colbert did in It Happened One Night (1934), Grant and Hepburn had in spades in Bringing Up Baby (1938), and Tracy and Hepburn (again) effortlessly oozed in Adam’s Rib (1949). However, Donat and Carroll don’t exactly possess the same level of panache or ease opposite one another that suggests a scintillating mutual—but forbidden—attraction.

This is possibly a result of the significant dearth of characterisation in The 39 Steps; as a film that functions almost entirely as a plot, we discover literally nothing about the private or personal lives of our two leads, and this somewhat hampers our connection with them on any serious level. In short, Richard may be a man who knows too much, but we actually know next to nothing about him. The same could be said for Pamela, who mostly serves as a plot device (though, admittedly, every character in this film is closer to a plot device than a real person). This absence is felt mostly towards the end, when our two misfit fugitives are forced into each other’s arms (quite literally) and we feel that while their union is sweet and reassuring, it lacks the emotional oomph that characterises Hitchcock’s best works.

Still, while no major characterisation takes place in The 39 Steps, the likes of which catapulted Rear Window and Vertigo (1958) from a standard thriller to a mesmerising slice of suspense cinema, it does not necessarily impact the film negatively. The film is, as Towne put it, perfect escapist entertainment; it never strives to be more than this, and it never falls anywhere below perfect escapism. If we don’t connect with our protagonists at a deeper level, we can at least be glad that a sappy backstory wasn’t shoehorned in for the sake of it, which would only have served to diminish the film’s exquisite pacing. Moreover, though Donat and Carroll may not deliver the most breathtaking performances from Hitchcock’s oeuvre, they are still fabulously entertaining in parts.

So, if nothing else, The 39 Steps reveals Hitchcock’s greatness when his career was still in its infancy—even if he had already made more than twenty films by this juncture—and presages the iconic heights and stylistic flair he would indulge in throughout the rest of his creative life. The chases, the twists, the mystery and the intrigue, the unlikely romances that smoulder on screen—all can be found in one of Hitchcock’s earliest gems. For the best results, pair The 39 Steps with A Lady Vanishes (1938) for a perfect double feature; you will never take trains without suspecting international conspiracy again.

UK | 1935 | 86 MINUTES | 1.37:1 | BLACK & WHITE | ENGLISH

Cast & Crew

director: Alfred Hitchcock.
writers: Charles Bennett & Ian Hay (based on the novel ‘The Thirty-Nine Steps’ by John Buchan)
starring: Robert Donat, Madeleine Carroll, Lucie Mannheim, Godfrey Tearle, Peggy Ashcroft & John Laurie.