Watching the sound version of Blackmail, one can't help but be intrigued by Hitchcock's bold experimentation with the new form. Sound is used sparingly but deliberately, almost like an extra character creeping in when needed, adding another layer of tension to the narrative.
This is a quintessential British thriller, with its tight interiors, clipped dialogue, and an undercurrent of polite unease. In true Hitchcock fashion, we are presented with a world of murky morality, blurred lines between guilt and innocence, a hint of villainisation, and, of course, a blonde in peril. It's a world that draws you in and holds you tight.
What really stood out to me was the streak of dark humour woven through the story. It lends the film a wry, human edge often absent from his later, glossier Hollywood efforts. That humour makes the characters feel more grounded and recognisable—something I didn't expect from such an early sound film.
The plot wobbles occasionally, with the pacing occasionally dragging and a few contrived twists popping up. But it's still a solid watch—an early milestone where you can already see Hitchcock fine-tuning the techniques that would define his career. Blackmail is a precursor to many of the themes and techniques that would become synonymous with Hitchcock's later, more polished works.
Britain's first talkie is quite accomplished, using many sound motifs and effects. The most celebrated is the the stabbing, wounding repetition of the word 'knife' emerging from the indistinct murmur of a longwinded busybody as the traumatised east-ender who kills in self defence (Anny Ondra) cuts a slice of bread.
She is blackmailed, while her detective boyfriend investigates... Alfred Hitchcock got around his beautiful star's dense middle European accent by having Joan Barry stand next the the camera and speak as Anny mouths the words. Though Barry's cut glass received pronunciation sounds as much like Cockney as the Czech actor's own voice.
It's based on a play by the Master's ongoing collaborator Charles Bennett, but only once gets mired in a long static scene of dialogue. Most critics prefer the silent version which was released into cinemas not fitted for sound (which is considerably shorter). But I prefer the talkie, which after all is a landmark in UK cinema.
It was the director's most visually accomplished film to date, even with the impediment of sound. Unusually, the story ends with the pursuit of the blackmailer, rather than the killer who walks free. The climax is the first staged by Hitch at a familiar tourist site, the British Museum. And the hunted man wouldn't be the last Hitchcock villain to fall to his death.