Retro Raunch Revisit

FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH (1933)
Jessie Matthews, Sonnie Hale, Cyril Smith, Ralph Richardson, Robertson Hare, Max Miller, Muriel Aked
Directed by Victor Saville
Released November 1, 1933 (Happy 85th Anniversary)
While not a horror movie in any way, shape or form, it preceeded Mr. Voorhees by 47yrs. This forgotten, early British talkie is about a London bus on a rainy night, driving down an empty road that suddenly swerves to avoid being hit by a large, toppling construction crane that has been struck by lightning. The vehicle is involved in a terrible crash, and the story flashes back 24hrs (with a rewind courtesy of Big Ben) to the lives of several commuters and how they came to be on their ill-fated ride. Don't be fooled into thinking that this sounds like a total snoozer because of its age. The good pacing and talented actors (already top stars of their day from stage & screen) infact makes for a fine melodrama whose premise has become quite a norm: a gathering of disparate strangers in which we get a portrait of their eclectic backgrounds, see everybody meeting up, and follow the journey right up to the tragedy. The diverse cast of characters (arguably too many) in 7 vignettes include the cynical bus conductor; his sexy chorus girl wife (played by Jessie Matthews); the energetic school teacher in love with her; a slippery/sleazy blackmailer; a rapid-talking con man; a henpecked husband; his cheating wife; a grumpy businessman desperately following a stock market tip; his elderly ditzy wife who keeps forgetting to buy marmalade; the man's partner; a racetrack bookie; a detective; a florist; a clerk; a dance instructor; and a pair of American tourists amongst still others. It's a potpourri that definitely sounds like an overloaded offering but thankfully doesn't bog down into a bloated bore. The snappy dialogue and action is presented in a Hitchcock-like, pre-film noir, mystery narrative with a blend of humor and sorrow as we are brought to the end's reveal of who survives & who doesn't. I bet this is one film that Quentin Tarantino's style/technique for time-lapsed, interwoven set ups can be traced to. In closing, FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH is a prim & proper slice of pre-WWII English life that wouldn't be complete without impeccable manners, pompous snobbery, and a sophisticated lady casually discussing the always sassy subject of knickers. [Now just imagine those undergarment visuals morph into a bevy of helpless, screaming young women (bra & panties, or topless is optional) trying to flee a machete-wielding madman. If that isn't full circle on ill-omened Friday the 13th conjuring up nubile victims for Jason, I don't know what is].