74 years after its release, it is difficult to determine completely the effect that Alfred Hitchcock’s loose adaptation of John Buchan’s 1915 novel The Thirty-Nine Steps, would have had during its original run. However, with the ever-increasing reverence that came throughout Hitchcock’s career as a master film-maker in both his British and American productions it is perhaps not unusual to see how and perhaps why so many of the tropes within this film became commonplace in his later films. Sometime lauded as the best of his British spy films and the first of his productions to herald success in the United States, it might even be worth suggesting that it is due to this success that Hitchcock continued utilising and cultivating variations on many of the same themes and attributes for the sake of continued success and even designation as an auteur. With the benefit of hindsight and study in a post-Hitchcock world, this tale of an everyday man thrust into a world of espionage, assumed identities and rom-com banter can be referred to and considered as part of a canon, rather than a stand-alone film.

In short, The 39 Steps tells the tale of Canadian Richard Hannay (Robert Donat) who, whilst watching a variety show at a music hall in London, finds himself amidst a group of squealing and loutish Brits running for the exit when a fight breaks out and gunshots are fired. Miraculously Hannay is pressed into the same physical space as another foreigner, the exotic and beautiful Annabella (Lucie Mannheim). Without much ado he takes her back to his apartment where her paranoia and tales of foreign agency are unfortunately proven true when the originally sceptical Hannay wakes to the final warning words of a dying Annabella falling onto his bed, stabbed in the back. So begins Hannay’s journey to and through Scotland in an attempt to clear his name for this murder, find the true killers and simultaneously prevent important government information from being smuggled abroad. Along the way Hannay must adopt a number of identities to suit each occasion, usually determined by the belief system of those around him in order that he pass through relatively unscathed.

Establishing a tone of suspicion from the second frame of the film, Hitchcock employs looming shadows and unseen faces. However, the film continues not so much as a mystery but a comic thriller, as a spectator spends more time focusing on Hannay’s continuous need to escape the false accusations which drive the narrative moreso than any search for truth or indeed the safety of the government’s secrets. From the moment Hannay brings Annabella back to his apartment, he is embroiled in a situation he doesn’t understand and both the narrative and our protagonist move on more out of necessity and self-preservation, than avenging any wrongdoing unto others. Thus is enabled a string of scenarios in which Hannay must travel from one set of locations, rules and pursuers to another until eventually and mostly through luck and circumstance he is able to stumble upon the truth, clear his name and get the girl.

The key elements within The 39 Steps which can be identified as lasting Hitchcock studies (and I do realise I am abridging so much of Hitchcock’s career themes here) are: identity and relationship politics. As mentioned, Hannay is forced to adopt a number of different identities for the sake of his survival; a milkman, a lover, a mechanic, a house guest, a husband, a politician and more. Despite being an ‘ordinary’ man he assumes these roles with an almost instinctual ease for the sake of his own survival. It can be said that it is this exact tenet which Hitchcock also renders in many of his other projects which study conflicting identities, true / untrue identities and double identities which are all adopted and utilized for self-preservation (disguises, split personalities, et al.).

The 39 Steps also plots a journey through various gender and relationship scenarios in the various arrangements Hannay witnesses and creates in his scamper. His time with the mysterious Annabella hints of pure sexuality, a suggestion which can never be explored as her lifestyle catches up with and punishes her. His stolen kiss with Pamela (Madeleine Carroll) sees her drop her spectacles which, despite her betrayal of his trust, can be seen to refer to the loss of sight / senses which so many Hitchcock and indeed noir characters in general fall privy to at the hands of a forbidden pleasure. When staying in the Scottish farmhouse of John (John Laurie) and Margaret (Peggy Aschcroft), Hannay along with the spectator very quickly understands Margaret’s imprisonment and John’s pious psychosis, a dynamic of control overpowering innocence again not uncommon in Hitchcock’s oeuvre.

As outlined, and as Hitchcock himself intended, each of the ‘chapters’ of Hannay’s chase can be seen as a standalone anecdote; a story with a suggested background and, as evidenced in the return to the farmhouse while John beats Margaret, a suggested continuance even after Hannay has left. Despite the fact that an audience only sees the effect of these relationships on Hannay’s tale, they are not without their own truth and they are most definitely not singular. The snappy and flirtatious banter between Hannay and Pamela as they travel manacled through the Scottish countryside is practically put into fast forward the moment they walk into the Argyle Inn and encounter the loving and loveable owners, whose relationship consists of its own wiles and practicality, but also of a comfortable and enduring love. A relationship which one can’t help but think back to in the film’s closing shot of Hannay and Pamela’s clasped hands; the beginnings of a relationship, banter already established and the man still wearing the cuff to what has now become his new “ball and chain”. On a more sombre note, John and Margaret’s relationship of control, abuse and imprisonment is again certainly not singular. This relationship dynamic of possessiveness and the eventual effect of it on the possessed is again explored in numerous contexts throughout Hitchcock’s canon, most notably in Psycho (1960) wherein the effect of Mrs. Bates’ control is highlighted in the behaviour of her son.

On the note of Psycho, arguably Hitchock’s most infamous film, one can not overlook the similarities between the renowned ‘shower scene’ and Hitchcock’s auditory matching at a pivotal moment in The 39 Steps. Reminding us that Hannay has left a murdered woman behind, Hitchcock takes us over the shoulder of what is presumed to be a maid as she enters the bedroom, sees Annabella and turns back to the camera to scream. This scream goes practically unheard as there is an instant cut to Hannay’s train leaving a tunnel with its whistle at full blast. Recognisably the fastest, loudest and most shocking scene of the film, the impact of this acoustic and the displacement of sound to create an effect of shock and horror could be considered as the pioneering effort of what would later be revealed in the shower scene’s screeching violin soundtrack. A stretch perhaps, but in consideration of Hitchcock’s career and reflection by the time of Psycho, not necessarily an impossibility.

As with most Hitchcock films, there are considerations of fetishisation and gender politics which could be made (including consideration of phallic / sapphic references) and of course the reflection of the unconscious (‘I’ve always been told murderers have terrible dreams.’). Perhaps the most interesting element however, and the most difficult to place, is the quite regular use of comedy throughout the script. That a script which Hitchcock himself (along with Charles Bennett and Ian Hay) adapted to within an inch of its former manifestation as a novel, should contain so much banter, repartee and flirtation is relatively uncharacteristic, at least with such prevalence in Hitchcock films.

Considering the director’s own admission that he considered his British years as amateur and his American years as professional, could this be seen as an endeavour to make his psychosomatic studies a little less apparent to a willingly naïve mass audience for the sake of Hollywood success? Further to this, each of Hannay’s identities sees him being saved by one of the many elements which the Hays Code would have been in full support of: a Bible saves him from a bullet, marching with the Salvation Army and publicly speaking out against the idle rich postpones his arrest, illegal drinking after hours sees his pursuers kicked out of his hotel. Ironically though, Hannay is running not only from a fumbling police force, but from a Professor and his minions; the law has made a simple mistake which is eventually rectified, but it is the man of independent intellect who is the enduring ‘baddie’. Again, perhaps a sizeable presumption, but considering what we now know of Hitchcock’s personal intensity and obsession, not necessarily an impossibility.

Despite not having the option of viewing The 39 Steps through 1935 eyes, like so many of Hitchock’s projects the appeal of this film does endure. Looking past some cliches, awful accents and dubious acting the appeal of the script and commendably to Robert Donat as Richard Hannay The 39 Steps still makes for intriguing viewing. As a standalone film and as an auteurist consideration it is understandable why the production is recognised as Hitchcock’s first trans-Atlantic triumph.