Seven Keys to Baldpate: A Snowy Mess of a Mystery

Is it worth your time?

Look, if you have a soft spot for 1930s dialogue that moves at a hundred miles an hour and plots that don't care if you keep up, you’ll dig Seven Keys to Baldpate. It’s perfect for a rainy Sunday when you want something that feels like a stage play taped to a flickering screen.

If you get annoyed when characters act like idiots just to keep the story moving, stay away. This movie isn't interested in being smart; it’s interested in being busy.

The whole thing takes place in this drafty, supposedly empty inn. You can practically smell the dust and the old wool coats. Our guy, the writer, thinks he’s getting a quiet weekend. Ha. The joke is on him immediately.

There are so many people walking in and out of doors with these damn keys. It starts to feel like a circus act. At one point, I stopped counting who had what, and honestly, the movie didn't seem to mind either. It just kept throwing new faces into the lobby.

The vibe check

There’s something about the way these old black-and-white films use shadows. Everything feels a bit claustrophobic. It reminded me of the frantic energy in Woman Wanted, where you’re just waiting for the next secret to drop.

Gene Raymond is fine, I guess, but he spends half the movie looking surprised. That’s fair, I suppose, given the amount of random strangers breaking into his room at 2:00 AM.

The best parts are the moments when the dialogue gets snappy. When these actors trade barbs, it’s like a tennis match played with lead pipes. Walter Brennan pops up, and you just know things are going to get weirdly intense for no reason.

• That one door that keeps opening and closing. Why is no one just locking it from the inside?
• The way the shadows hit the staircase. Very spooky for 1935.
• The pacing is frantic. Almost too frantic. It feels like they were worried the audience would fall asleep if someone didn't yell every five minutes.

I found myself thinking about The Moth while watching this, mainly because of the way these characters are just moth-like, circling the same light over and over. They’re all trapped by their own greed, or keys, or whatever mcguffin is driving the scene.

The ending? Well, I won't spoil it, but it’s a bit of a shrug. It reminded me of the twisty-turny frustration of Close Harmony, where you realize you’ve been led on a bit of a wild goose chase. 🤷‍♂️

It’s not high art. It’s not even that deep. But it has a certain crusty charm that I can’t help but enjoy. Sometimes you don't need a masterpiece; you just need a story that doesn't let you check your phone for an hour.