The Big Whatsit

Having bought the Alfred Hitchcock boxset at Christmas, it seems only right that I work through it, film by film, and offer my thoughts on each. The set, known as the ‘Masterpiece Collection’ upon its Region One release (and reviewed on an individual basis via this page at DVD Times), contains all fourteen films made by Hitch for Universal Studios, and represents a mixed bag of classics, good stuff and average fare (I don’t think he made a single bad film, so ‘average’ is as poor as it gets). It comes in a nice sturdy box, with each movie packaged in its own slimline DVD case. Representing a wide period of the Master’s career (1942 - 1976), some non-Universal gems are notable by their absence (Notorious and North by Northwest are conspicuously not here), but what remains is a fine cross-section of essential purchases and lesser known flicks.

Saboteur (1942)

Hitchcock’s first film for Universal was this wartime potboiler, a thriller that contains numerous trademark elements and a fair slice of propaganda. As far as the ‘Master of Suspense’ is concerned, it’s nothing special, but does that make it entirely worthless?

Saboteur plays on a familiar Hitch theme - an innocent man is accused of doing something wrong; by chance, he knows exactly who’s responsible and whilst being chased by the authorities, goes in pursuit of the culprit. It’s North by Northwest in sketchier form, though there’s no Cary Grant here to fill the screen, and it shows. Robert Cummings is Barry Kane, desperate both to clear his name and expose the real saboteur, a mysterious figure named Fry who blew up the war aircraft factory where Kane was unlucky enough to be working. Quickly targeted for the crime himself, our hero has little option but to go on the run, taking as his directions the slight information he knows about Fry. On his way, he meets both goodies and baddies. Kane learns that Fry is part of a conspiracy, a group of fascist sympathisers (nobody uses the word ‘Nazi’ in Saboteur, but it’s reasonably clear what is meant), some of whom hold positions of great authority and wealth. On the plus side, he stumbles across Pat Martin (Priscilla Lane), who becomes an ally and confidante after initially not trusting his innocence. The action takes us from Los Angeles to New York’s Statue of Liberty, where Kane finally confronts Fry.

All good stuff, and indeed Saboteur is a perfectly serviceable thriller. It moves along quickly, doesn’t pause for breath too often, and cranks up the tension in all the right areas. This, of course, is the least you would expect from Hitchcock. When the factory explodes very early in the movie, the screen slowly fills with menacing black smoke in anticipation, and you feel you’re on safe ground with Saboteur. Yet the visual thrills are actually few and far between, and this comes across largely as a competently directed film, rather than the work of a genius. The script, along with Hitchock himself, was sold to Frank Lloyd Productions for a paltry $20,000 by David Selznick, and though the latter would go on to do far better things, it’s obvious that the film’s budget, not to mention its screenplay (one of its collaborators was none other than Dorothy Parker), was somewhat limited.

One of its biggest weaknesses was an avowed intention to show typical Americans in a good light. Kane doesn’t stop pursuing the fascists, even after his name is virtually cleared, because it’s the right thing to do. The people who assist him along the way make it clear they’re doing so due to their ability to make a choice in a free society. As Pat’s kindly, blind dad explains, ‘Don’t you know I can see a great deal farther than you can? I can see intangible things. For example, innocence.’ The fact he is aiding and abetting a known fugitive seems to make little difference. Thanks to a hunch, he offers Kane a break, and it’s tough for the cynical viewer not to wonder what the hell’s going on in his head. Presumably, wartime cinemagoers could be swayed into accepting the simple nobility of deeds such as these. Later, a group of circus freaks will offer Kane similar levels of charity, for much the same reason. It’s a nice sentiment, but it doesn’t make a lot of sense, and entire plot twists turn on these moments.

Cummings is fairly engaging as the troubled Kane, yet he has little of the presence of memorable Hitchcock stars, such as Grant or James Stewart. Considering he figures in almost every shot of Saboteur, this is something of a weakness, and it’s telling that the actor probably never did anything as prominent again in his career. For all that, the array of villains aligned against him are a good bunch. Otto Kruger is in particularly fine form as Charles Tobin, who seems like a good bloke on first sight, but quickly turns out to be the worst of the bunch, a thoroughly nasty piece of work who spills out Nazi bile with a smile on his face. Norman Lloyd plays the elusive Frank Fry, a thin-lipped baddie who looks perfectly capable of blowing people up without feeling a scrap of remorse. Hitchcock made a conscious attempt to add an extra dimension to his villains. Check out Mr Freeman’s (Alan Baxter) conversation with Kane, as he describes the golden curls of his youth, and thus adds extra menace to his character.

By anyone else’s standards, Saboteur is a cracking little film. It has the ability to pull you in, hauling you along behind Kane as he makes his forlorn way across America. Compared with Hitchcock’s other work, however, it’s formulaic and hackneyed. All this was done to better effect in North by Northwest, and The 39 Steps. Indeed, the Grant starrer remains one of my personal favourites, thanks largely to the main character’s light touch and masses of well-tailored charisma. Saboteur, on the other hand, is good fun and a perfectly fine way to spend 108 minutes, but that’s about it. There’s nothing about it that’s especially brilliant, and the plot is weighed down by its propaganda overtones.

The movie is presented about as well as it probably can be for its age; the picture is reasonably sharp despite the usual signs of something that’s 65 years old, and in places it looks overly dark. In terms of sound, a typical array of crackles and pops punctuate the film, though personally I believe these things enhance - rather than detract from - old movies, much like playing a much-loved LP. The decent spread of extras starts with a trailer, which cleverly has Cummings narrating to the audience in the guise of Kane - ‘I’m Barry Kane, American!’ We also get a 35-minute documentary, ‘Saboteur: a Closer Look.’ This attempts to explain why Hitchcock might have been pricked by his social conscience enough to film the more propagandist scenes, by discussing his guilt over the criticism he received in the UK for working in America whilst his own country was at war. Despite the perfectly reasonable excuse of being under contract, Hitchcock felt bad about not being involved in Britain’s struggles, which might have won over his natural tendency not to include socio-political subtexts to his movies. There’s a nice, revealing chat about Hitchcock’s trademark cameo appearance. Apparently, the director wanted to be filmed saying something crude to his secretary in sign language, but the scene was scrapped as being derogatory. Instead, we see him standing at a news stand. Sketches, a gallery and storyboards complete the bonus material. Hitchcock took the latter seriously, and we get to see some of his visual ideas on paper for what turned out to be striking images in the finished product.

Hitch Rating