This early talkie from Alfred Hitchcock would stand a little taller in his catalog had it not come two years after his greatest "wrong-man" chase story, "The 39 Steps".
This time the wrong man is Robert Tisdall (Derrick De Marney), in trouble when a female acquaintance washes up on a quaint English beach while he is walking by - along with a coat belt which choked the life from her and apparently belonged to him. Rather than trust John Law to sort things out, he runs off to find the story behind the belt, taking with him Erica (Nova Pilbeam), the young and innocent daughter of the village police chief.
If "The 39 Steps" is about the man running away, "Young And Innocent" a.k.a. "The Girl Was Young", is about the woman helping him. Young Pilbeam (as of this writing the earliest Hitchcock heroine still alive) radiates unusual low-key beguilement for a Hitch blonde with her strong Martha Plimpton cheekbones, trim build, and fetching eyes. Unlike Madeleine Carroll in "The 39 Steps", she's never not on Tisdall's side in some way, and the suspense of "Young And Innocent" is less for that. But she keeps you watching her.
Poor De Marney is more like a stick of wood, though, reminding me of a grown-up Freddie Bartholomew and not surprisingly called "a boy" a few times. He distractingly treats the whole ordeal as something of a lark.
"I can laugh because I'm innocent," he tells Erica. "You don't believe me. I wish you did." Eventually, of course, she does. There's a fun scene at a children's party the two fugitives are trying to escape, where Basil Radford in a wimple offers unlikely aid. J.H. Roberts' defense attorney gets his client off despite his ineffectuality - easily the funniest incompetent solicitor until Henry Winkler's in "Arrested Development". Hitch's cameo here is rather more fun than most - it's one of his longer bits, and involves some animated expressions.
Hitchcock finds the funny and sets a steady pace, but allows a dodgy story to get away from him more than usual, averaging one contrivance every five minutes. The anti-cop animus is heavier than usual, for example when he sticks a pair of friendly constables in a pig truck. He even allows Erica's dog Towser to disappear mid-scene without explanation. "The Scottie Vanishes"! The finale is the one trick Hitch pulls out of his hat, an utterly masterful one, probably working even better today because of its in-your-face South Parkean political incorrectness. Not going to ruin it, just bemoan the fact that after the big reveal, the resolution itself is another one of "Y&I"'s underdone moments.
But this is a good opportunity to observe Hitchcock's early mastery of the setpiece, and his mingling of suspense and comedy. Just don't ponder the holes too much - Hitch sure didn't!
This time the wrong man is Robert Tisdall (Derrick De Marney), in trouble when a female acquaintance washes up on a quaint English beach while he is walking by - along with a coat belt which choked the life from her and apparently belonged to him. Rather than trust John Law to sort things out, he runs off to find the story behind the belt, taking with him Erica (Nova Pilbeam), the young and innocent daughter of the village police chief.
If "The 39 Steps" is about the man running away, "Young And Innocent" a.k.a. "The Girl Was Young", is about the woman helping him. Young Pilbeam (as of this writing the earliest Hitchcock heroine still alive) radiates unusual low-key beguilement for a Hitch blonde with her strong Martha Plimpton cheekbones, trim build, and fetching eyes. Unlike Madeleine Carroll in "The 39 Steps", she's never not on Tisdall's side in some way, and the suspense of "Young And Innocent" is less for that. But she keeps you watching her.
Poor De Marney is more like a stick of wood, though, reminding me of a grown-up Freddie Bartholomew and not surprisingly called "a boy" a few times. He distractingly treats the whole ordeal as something of a lark.
"I can laugh because I'm innocent," he tells Erica. "You don't believe me. I wish you did." Eventually, of course, she does. There's a fun scene at a children's party the two fugitives are trying to escape, where Basil Radford in a wimple offers unlikely aid. J.H. Roberts' defense attorney gets his client off despite his ineffectuality - easily the funniest incompetent solicitor until Henry Winkler's in "Arrested Development". Hitch's cameo here is rather more fun than most - it's one of his longer bits, and involves some animated expressions.
Hitchcock finds the funny and sets a steady pace, but allows a dodgy story to get away from him more than usual, averaging one contrivance every five minutes. The anti-cop animus is heavier than usual, for example when he sticks a pair of friendly constables in a pig truck. He even allows Erica's dog Towser to disappear mid-scene without explanation. "The Scottie Vanishes"! The finale is the one trick Hitch pulls out of his hat, an utterly masterful one, probably working even better today because of its in-your-face South Parkean political incorrectness. Not going to ruin it, just bemoan the fact that after the big reveal, the resolution itself is another one of "Y&I"'s underdone moments.
But this is a good opportunity to observe Hitchcock's early mastery of the setpiece, and his mingling of suspense and comedy. Just don't ponder the holes too much - Hitch sure didn't!