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Streaming Shuffle

Jigsaw (1962)

First this, then that, then ....

Val Guest last appeared in this column as the man behind the chilly and matter-of-fact The Quatermass Xperiment. In bringing the same precision to a more down-to-earth subject—a murder investigation in a down-at-the-heels offshoot of Brighton—he almost offhandedly crafts one of my new favorite police procedurals.

This is a case where the genre is all. Guest—who also wrote the screenplay, an adaptation of Hilary Waugh’s Sleep Long, My Love—is nearly relentless at throwing out anything that isn’t investigation, to the point where if the detectives involved want to shoehorn in any hint of personal lives, they have to speak quickly, and ideally only when on their way from one deductive task to another. If all this involved more traditional action, I’d call the pacing breakneck. Evidence, idea, refutation, new idea. It’s easy to forget the characters’ names, and that doesn’t matter. What matters is the process.

It’s an honest process, too, not jazzed up by any touches of the Gothic, the Grand Guignol, or even the Golden Age; there are no Hannibal Lecters here and no elaborate, clockwork schemes. The killer and detectives are all reasonably intelligent, but no one here is a Machiavellian genius. If the murder—which, off-screen, reduces a clinging, naïve, lovelorn woman to hackwork butchery at the bottom of a trunk—is squalid, the squalor isn’t dwelt on. This is an ordinarily difficult, ordinarily unpleasant crime that occurs for ordinary reasons and is solved by ordinary men. Instead of three-dimensional speed chess, we have a kind of rigorously applied tic-tac-toe. Eliminate this possibility. Call this number. Ask this witness.

In some ways, I feel like I’m emphasizing that Jigsaw does nothing special to attract your attention, but that unassuming quality is part of its charm. As our own Tristan J. Nankervis has noted, focus can occasionally replace more traditional markers of ambition. Jigsaw, as its name implies, is about assembling a puzzle piece by piece until the picture becomes clear, and it understands its goals so well that it ends exactly when it needs to: not with confrontation or comeuppance, but only with the last necessary fact slotting into place. The final moments are as rat-a-tat as the rest.

Anything beyond the puzzle, from seaside scenery to humor to human emotion, is used sparingly, like salt, and only to draw out the natural flavors of the investigation: Guest never forgets that the process of detection involves near-constant interaction with people, and people are a rumpled, self-involved, surprising lot. All this comes with the territory. Again, it’s honest without going all the way into eccentricity; like the docudramas it pulls from, it’s managed by a worldview, not a style. There’s a levelheadedness here that’s key to the appeal of this particular genre, which paints a picture of a world that can, with the dogged application of time and shoe-leather, be comprehended and set in order. This is how we do this. Maybe it’s not, and maybe it never was, but for the duration of the film, I believe it, and I feel more alert and engaged for tapping into this particular dream.

Jigsaw is streaming on Kanopy and Tubi. Thanks to Simon DelMonte for pointing me towards this one.