The Girl in the Crowd: A very awkward afternoon in London

Is The Girl in the Crowd worth your time? If you like low-stakes black-and-white British comedies where everyone talks like they’re in a stage play, absolutely. If you prefer movies that actually make sense, stay far, far away.

The whole premise is built on a misunderstanding that feels like it could have been cleared up in about four seconds. But, of course, the characters just keep running with it.

It’s kind of funny watching David try to be a 'lady-killer' based on his wife’s advice. There’s this one scene where he’s skulking around behind her, and the level of unearned confidence he has is honestly impressive. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion, but the train is made of tweed.

The dialogue is snappy in that old-school way. You know the kind. Everyone is being terribly polite while doing something incredibly stupid.

I caught myself wondering about the background extras more than the main cast. There’s a guy in a bowler hat near the bookshop who just stands there for an eternity. He doesn't even pretend to look at a book.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Girl in the Crowd (1934) through its definitive frames.

It’s not quite as visually inventive as something like Study No. 6, but it gets the job done. It’s a small, dusty, harmless little film.

The pacing is a bit weird. It feels like the director was rushing to get to the next punchline, even when the joke had already landed three minutes ago. There’s a moment where Bob gets arrested that felt strangely heavy for such a light movie. It’s almost like the movie forgot it was supposed to be funny for a second.

I can’t stop thinking about how David’s wife, Marian, just sits there on the phone giving this advice. It’s a very specific kind of chaotic energy.

A few stray thoughts:

• The street scenes have that oddly quiet London vibe where nobody seems to be actually working.
• The phone conversation setup is so 1930s it hurts.
• The police officer’s reaction to the whole ordeal is remarkably chill.

It’s not a masterpiece. It’s barely even a coherent story. But for an hour or so? It’s fine. It feels like a relic you’d find in a bargain bin at a shop that smells like old paper and tea. Don't overthink it.