Jamaica Inn was the last film Alfred Hitchcock made in England before going to Hollywood before the war and from the sloppy look of it he must have been in an awful hurry. A more dreadful Hitch sound film I have yet to see. The cinematography is murky beyond necessity, the editing choppy and telegraphed as the suspense is relegated for the most part to goofy land pirates running amok snarling and terrifying a youthful Maureen O'Hara.<br /><br />A rather odd time and plot (and it shows) for the usually contemporary setting Hitchcock it deals with 18th century pirates that manufacture ship wrecks along the coast of Cornwall. The brains behind the cutthroats who are more caricature than menace is a highly respected landowner, imbalanced perhaps by the ravages of tertiary syphilis (Tabes dorsalis? Then again I'm no doctor). Charles Laughton plays Sir Humphrey Pengallen with a recklessly overreaching almost unintelligible (to fellow actors as well as the audience)disdain for everything as he jabbers incomprehensibly throughout. Laughton seems to act oblivious to all around him and some scenes look more like a rehearsal as he adopts different nuance and utters non-sequiturs as if searching for the right fit. Hitchcock who once referred to actors as cattle clearly has a case of mad cow disease with Laughton. In addition to Hitch's poor handling of the cast (the pirate gang is pure keystone cop dressed in buccaneer) his pacing is off as well with action and suspense scenes lagging and having the imagination of Saturday matinée serials. An incoherent muddle of a film from start to finish featuring two cinema giants at their worst one would be wise to avoid checking in at Jamaica Inn.