The Limping Man (1931) is creaky, stagey, and kind of a blast

If you have seventy minutes to spare and a soft spot for dusty, creaky British thrillers, The Limping Man is worth a look. People who love old-school stage adaptations where everyone speaks like they have a marble in their mouth will be in heaven.

If you hate static cameras and plots that get solved by people just talking in a room, you should probably skip this one.

The whole setup is pretty simple. Three different victims of an informer decide they want to murder him now that he is retired. It sounds like a great noir setup, but this was made in 1931, so it feels more like a filmed play where the actors are terrified of moving too far from the microphone. 🎙️

Franklin Dyall is in this, and he always has this amazing, intense face that looks like he is about to explode. He plays a painting guy who gets caught up in the mess, and honestly, his eyebrows do most of the heavy lifting here.

I kept waiting for the titular limping man to actually do some serious limping. When he finally shows up, his limp is so subtle you might miss it if you blink. It is more of a slight wobble, like he just wore the wrong shoe that morning. 👞

There is a scene in a cozy-looking study where two characters are discussing the murder plot, and you can see a shadow of the microphone boom creeping down the wallpaper. I love stuff like that; it reminds you that these early talkies were basically held together with tape and hope, much like Pilgrims of the Night which had that same frantic, early-sound stagey vibe.

The dialogue is incredibly fast, almost like the actors wanted to get home before the tube shut down. Sometimes they talk over each other in a way that feels real, but mostly it just makes the plot harder to follow. I had to rewind one part twice because a guy with a massive mustache mumbled something crucial about a clock.

Margot Grahame is also here, looking very glamorous and slightly annoyed to be there. She has this one reaction shot where she just stares at a door for a solid five seconds after someone leaves. You can almost hear her thinking about her grocery list. 😅

Some random things I jotted down:

• The wallpaper in the main house is so busy it gave me a mild headache.
• One of the detectives has a hat that seems three sizes too big for his head.
• The sound of rain outside sounds exactly like someone frying bacon near the microphone. 🥓
• There is a lot of dramatic pointing. Like, a lot of it.

It is not a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination. But there is a weird, cozy charm to how clunky it all is. If you like curl-up-with-a-tea mysteries, you could do much worse on a rainy Sunday afternoon.