Number Seventeen

The wind‑blasted cliffs of rural England give way to a solitary, weather‑worn building known only as Number 17. Its empty rooms and creaking floors are lit by a single trembling candle, casting shadows that seem to linger long after the light has faded. The house feels both a refuge and a trap, a place where silence can be as heavy as the sea‑spray that rolls in from the shore. This atmospheric backdrop sets the stage for a tense cat‑and‑mouse game that unfolds in muted, almost theatrical whispers.

Detective Barton arrives at the house on the trail of a recent robbery, his methodical instincts clashing with the disarray he finds inside. He quickly discovers that a small gang has taken shelter within the walls, each member nursing their own secrets while trying to stay one step ahead of the law. Ben, the group’s wiry newcomer, moves with nervous grace, his motives as opaque as the candlelight that flickers across his face. The detective’s presence turns the uneasy camaraderie into a fragile stalemate, each side measuring the other’s resolve in a game of concealed intent.

Among the thieves, Rose Ackroyd clings to a personal mystery that ties her family to the house, while her father, Mr. Ackroyd, watches from a precarious perch above, adding a layer of hidden observation to the already tense atmosphere. Brant, the seasoned operative, exudes a weary authority, and Nora balances sharp wit with quiet determination, hinting at deeper loyalties. The enigmatic Henry Doyle and the unsettling Sheldrake round out the cast, each bringing a distinct edge that fuels the simmering suspicion and uneasy alliances.

The film moves with a measured, almost stage‑like cadence, letting the wind, the ticking clock, and the faint glow of the candle create a mood of looming uncertainty. Characters drift through the rooms like chess pieces, their motives hinted at but never fully revealed, inviting the audience to linger in the suspense and wonder what will finally break the fragile equilibrium of Number 17.

Last Updated: December 05, 2025 at 10:19