The Streets of London: A dusty time capsule

Look, The Streets of London is exactly the kind of movie that makes you appreciate that we invented remote controls. It’s stiff. It’s loud in that way only old theater-trained actors can be, where every whisper sounds like it’s being projected to the cheap seats in the back row.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Streets of London (1934) through its definitive frames.

Is it worth your time? Only if you really like the smell of old celluloid. If you’re a completionist for early British cinema, sure, go ahead. But for anyone else? You’re going to be bored by the second act.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Streets of London (1934) through its definitive frames.

Ashton Jarry is… well, he’s definitely acting. He’s doing a lot of it. Sometimes he seems to be acting in a completely different room than the rest of the cast. It reminded me a bit of the frantic energy in The Path of Glory, but without the benefit of a plot that actually goes anywhere interesting.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Streets of London (1934) through its definitive frames.

There’s this one scene where a character is supposed to be distressed, and they just sort of pace back and forth in a tight circle for an eternity. The camera doesn't even move. It just sits there, watching them pace. I checked my phone twice. It’s that kind of movie.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Streets of London (1934) through its definitive frames.

The dialogue is thick with those old-timey inflections that make everyone sound like they’re reading from a pamphlet on how to be a Victorian gentleman. It’s not necessarily bad, it’s just exhausting. You can feel the weight of the stage play origins dragging every scene down into the mud.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Streets of London (1934) through its definitive frames.

I found myself thinking about The Hunter while watching this, mainly because I’d rather be watching something with a bit more grit and a lot less posturing. Even the background extras look like they’re waiting for a bus that’s never coming. They just sort of stand around, looking confusedly at the floor.

Small notes from the back row:

• The lighting in the alleyway scenes is so dark you’re mostly just guessing where the actors went.
• The transition between the wide shots and the close-ups is jarring. It feels like two different movies glued together.
• The music cues are hilariously dramatic. A violin starts shrieking every time someone looks sad.

It’s not all terrible, though. There is something kind of sweetly archaic about it. It’s like finding a handwritten letter in a library book. You don’t really care about the person who wrote it, but it’s neat that it’s still here.

I think the movie gets better if you just mute it and imagine what they’re actually saying. Probably something about taxes or lost inheritances. It’s all very proper, even when people are being terrible to each other. Don’t go looking for Nothing Matters levels of existential dread here; this is all very surface-level drama.

Ultimately, it’s a bit of a relic. Watch it if you’re curious about how they used to do things, but don’t expect to be moved. I’m still not sure if I actually enjoyed it, or if I just enjoyed that it ended. 🎞️