Murder and intrigue arrive at the seedy, roach-infested Midlothian Hotel when fastidious contract killer Connor (Paul Herzberg) checks into room thirty-eight. The obsessively neat and tidy murderer aims to exchange a briefcase full of money for a mysterious roll of film held by Helen Woods (Portia Booroff), liaison for an ambitious politician (Norman Mitchell) on the verge of becoming the next prime minister. Unfortunately, things get messed up when a call girl (Nicola Branson) summoned by Richard Armstrong (Frank Scantori), the bloated pervert in room thirty-six, arrives at Connor’s door by mistake and is promptly murdered. When Miss Woods arrives for the exchange she discovers the dead woman’s body and flees, but accidentally drops the microfilm. She hides in room thirty-six where randy Armstrong mistakes her for his hooker, only to expire at the nasty end of a broken bottle. Now Woods is trapped between a corpse and a ruthless killer, with the microfilm somewhere in the room next door, while hotel manager George Roberts (Brian Murphy, star of Seventies Brit-com George & Mildred!!) remains humorously oblivious.
Eleven years in the making, Room 36 is the second independent feature film from British director/co-writer Jim Groom. The project was plagued by so many problems behind the scenes it should stand as a cautionary tale told to all aspiring filmmakers. If nothing else, one has to admire Groom’s tenacity and stamina in bringing his far from conventional vision to the screen. For in spite of being lensed in moody film noir black and white (save for splashes of bright red blood) and featuring a plot that occasionally resembles something Frank Launder and Sidney Gilliat might have knocked out for Alfred Hitchcock back in the Thirties, the overall ambience is a unique cross between a Fifties B-thriller and a sleazy Seventies sex comedy.
Groom’s first film, Revenge of Billy the Kid (1992), a zany monster movie equal parts Hammer horror and cartoon farce, featured a creature spawned by a liaison between a randy farmer and his goat. Subtlety was never his strong point. Here he obviously relishes the sleazy milieu complete with disgusting décor, full-frontal nudity and farting, filth-stained supporting characters. Most of them are caricatures ripe for cartoon-like slaughter. It’s the kind of film where even a prospective PM makes time to ogle a naked girl at a downmarket strip club between orchestrating murder. However, Groom and his co-writers concoct some nicely tense situations that neither the strained jocular tone and spurts of nastiness can’t completely dissipate. There are some nicely scripted exchanges between neat freak Connor and brittle heroine Woods, although after investing so much in the resourceful heroine viewers are liable to find the sting-in-the-tail something of a damp squib. Especially given how Groom signposts it far too early.
In addition to familiar faces like Brian Murphy and Norman Mitchell (who was also in Revenge of Billy the Kid), viewers should look out for film critic John Marriott in a small cameo and John Forbes-Robertson - onetime Dracula in the Hammer/Shaw Brothers co-production Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires a.k.a. Seven Brothers Against Dracula (1974) - as another hotel guest.
Ivory Towers’ region two DVD comes with an array of deleted scenes and making of featurettes, but be sure to watch the eye-opening making-of documentary. If only to see how many mishaps can befall a low-budget indie feature. It’s an oddly heartening tale and may change the way you look at the finished movie.