A family is at their dining room table, sitting upright and dressed for dinner--except they're all dead. Sherlock Holmes must figure out how--and, more importantly, why--they were murdered.


There is a moment—barely twelve seconds long—when the camera in Maurice Elvey’s The Devil’s Foot simply stares at the dead family’s hands: ivory knuckles still wrapped around cutlery, a mother’s ring glinting like a frozen star. The silence is so absolute you can almost hear the emulsion crackle. In that hush the film...

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Comparing the cinematic DNA and archive impact of two defining moments in cult history.

Maurice Elvey

Maurice Elvey
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" There is a moment—barely twelve seconds long—when the camera in Maurice Elvey’s The Devil’s Foot simply stares at the dead family’s hands: ivory knuckles still wrapped around cutlery, a mother’s ring glinting like a frozen star. The silence is so absolute you can almost hear the emulsion crackle. In that hush the film announces its thesis: murder is not the interruption of life but its grotesque tableau vivant, a waxwork of resentment varnished by chemistry. Released in the chill of January 19..."
William J. Elliott, Arthur Conan Doyle
United Kingdom


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