Sabotage

A boy, an old lady, and a puppy on a bus. What could possibly be a sweeter film scene? Well, that is unless you're Alfred Hitchcock and the film is "Sabotage," in which case you get a trifecta of quite a different sort.

Playing with the rules was Hitchcock's forte, but never again until "Psycho" would he do so with the cold brilliance on display here. Unlike "Psycho," which hasn't dated a month since its 1960 release, "Sabotage" doesn't for a moment feel like it was made any later than 1936, in part because of its fuzzy sound quality (maybe just the versions I've seen) and in part because it's a very static film.

That's not to say "Sabotage" isn't good. In fact, it's brilliant. Adapted from the Joseph Conrad novel "The Secret Agent" but markedly better both in terms of its linear treatment of the thin central story and its sharper, more measured ending, "Sabotage" introduces us to Mr. Verloc (Oskar Homolka), the owner of a London cinema who sidelines as a secret agent for a mysterious foreign power, "the people you and I will never catch" as one policeman tells another. After causing a power outage that produces laughter rather than the desired fear, Verloc is assigned a more deadly job, to cause an explosion in Piccadilly Circus, "the center of the world," as Verloc's controller calls it.

It's impossible to watch the film now without thinking of 9/11 or the London subway bombings, a world of murderous, anarchic terrorism Conrad's novel and Hitchcock's film anticipated without quite comprehending. The film seems to stumble on offering a coherent "why," perhaps because there isn't one, then or now. But echoing a central point in Conrad's novel, "Sabotage" shows the terrorists' greatest fear is not retribution but indifference. "London must not laugh" is the order given to Verloc.

As played by Homolka with sleepy nuance, Verloc isn't quite a villain, just a weak, lazy man of no moral fiber who objects at the thought of murder but decides to go through with it in order to be paid. Sgt. Spencer of Scotland Yard is hot on Verloc's trail, but he's not exactly a hero, a bit of a bumbler rather who fancies Verloc's wife. Mrs. Verloc, played by screen vet Sylvia Sidney (she was the case worker helping the Maitlands in the afterlife in "Beetle Juice" 52 years later) is the closest we have to a rooting interest, though her concern seems less with the husband or the policeman who woos her than her little brother, Stevie (Desmond Tester).

Hitchcock's direction offers a little of the comic relief more prominent in his other films, and some arresting visuals for their time, especially that of a fish tank which morphs into a London street under attack. There's a very involving scene where a devastated Mrs. Verloc is reduced to tearful laughter by a Disney cartoon. (Verloc's owning a cinema may be a comment on the deceptively transformative power of cinema, or a wink in the direction of his sideline activity in the novel, selling Edwardian porn.) Mostly "Sabotage" is a film that grabs you by the throat and never lets go, making its 80-minute running time feel like forever going by in an instant.

It all comes down to the scene on the bus. Hitchcock apparently believed it was the biggest mistake in his career. It may have killed enthusiasm for "Sabotage," but it made clear to filmgoers that all bets were off as far as this young director was concerned. From then on, cliffhangers would be invested with a certain added dread that would make their resolutions seem less pat, and the movie thriller would be that much more thrilling. It took guts to make a film like that.

What an opening. The power goes off all over London as the camera gives the viewer a sweeping panorama of the situation, light, shadow, blackness, panning throughout the city with emphasis on historical sites. Then one word utterances from several different persons in charge of keeping the power up and running. This beginning grabs the audience's attention better than any other film this side of "The Letter" and Hitchcock's own "Rebecca." But unlike "The Letter" where the opening is the high point of the entire film, "Sabotage" keeps getting better and better. The opening is truly just the beginning of a cinema masterpiece. Hitchcock uses old film techniques such as cross cutting in novel ways. One of the best scenes takes place in a zoo aquarium where water creatures are compared with the human creature. Listen to the dialog between the two saboteurs as the camera zooms in on the sea turtles. Later the bomber thinks of the fish swimming in the tank and then sees motor cars filled with passengers speeding along the streets. An explosion. Suddenly the fish in the tank again flash through the bomber's head. To savor this splendid moment of cinematic brilliance, the viewer may need to zip back and watch and listen as the scene is repeated.

What a wonderful acting job Sylvia Sidney does. Hitchcock used all his influence and bargaining power to have Sidney play the part. Unfortunately Hitchcock and Sidney did not jell. Their personalities clashed. So the gifted actress refused to have anything else to do with the masterful director. Such a great loss for each.

The way Hitchcock handles the delicate situation involving the cute boy, Mrs. Verloc's (Sylvia Sidney)little brother, riding the bus with a time bomb in a package under one arm while petting a fluffy puppy with his free hand is necessary for what happens at the end of the film. For once, however, Hitchcock misread his movie patrons who were outraged. Never again would he make a similar mistake.

An interesting feature of this Hitchcock outing is a cinema owned by the bomber (Oskar Homolka) and his wife (Sidney) where clandestine meetings among the saboteurs occur. Several features are shown in the background from time to time during the film but one stands out, "Who Killed Cock Robin," a Disney short from 1935 featuring a parody of Mae West among others. Hitchcock skillfully blends the clip from "Cock Robin" into his story of "Sabotage." Mrs. Verloc deeply depressed and confused following her brother's death hears the laughter coming from the audience. She sits down and joins in with the gaiety. When the arrow is loosed and strikes poor Cock Robin, the laughter on her face changes to an expression of agony and terror. Reality replaces fantasy and make believe. Now she fully realizes what a monster her husband truly is, not the noble sensitive caring man of her dreams. One is reminded how a later director/writer Preston Sturges would use a similar technique with a Mickey Mouse cartoon in his classic "Sullivan's Travels."

There is also a clear message by Hitchcock on sabotage, today terrorism; those so-called martyrs for a cause are in reality misguided devils who end up killing the innocent and helpless instead of the ones their feeble minds believe to be the deceivers and exploiters of the human race.

The infamous package scene alone makes Sabotage worth watching. This film is full of the suspenseful intrigue and surprising twists that have become synonymous with the name Alfred Hitchcock. This movie is not without its flaws, but it's a solid story and a thrilling ride.

In the mid-to-late 1930s Alfred Hitchcock held a unique position for a director. Since the successes of The Man Who Knew Too Much and The 39 Steps, his destiny as a suspense filmmaker had been revealed not only to himself but also to his bosses at Gaumont. He was now only assigned material suitable to his area of expertise, and given a considerable amount of freedom to play around with the form. At the tail end of his British period, at a time when standard cinematic technique and narrative convention were well established, Hitchcock was effectively a researcher, of the kind that hadn't really been seen since the days of Griffith.

Sabotage is adapted from the Joseph Conrad novel Secret Agent, and it's worth taking a peek at a synopsis of the book to see the differences in the movie version, two of which are very significant. Firstly the novel is a kind of anti-heroic piece told largely from the point-of-view of the villainous Verloc. You couldn't have that in cinema in the 30s, so Verloc's opponents are beefed up into morally sound protagonists. However, it is still revealed from the outset that Verloc is the culprit, and we the audience are always kept aware of his doings even when the heroes are not. Dispensing with the Agatha Christie form of "whodunit" is essential to the Hitchcockian mode of suspense building. Revealing the identity and intentions of a killer keeps the audience constantly wondering when and how he will strike again.

The other important difference between the novel and film, is that Conrad states quite explicitly that Verloc and co. are anarchists, delving quite deeply into their ideology, as well as implying that they are Russians. Hitchcock's picture however makes no mention of the politics or nationality of the villains. They are simply generic foreign terrorists, existing to make the plot work. Imagine how much weaker this picture would be if we were asked to think about Verloc's motives. He has thick eyebrows, a sinister accent and he puts bombs on buses. What more do you need?

On a purely formalist level, Hitchcock's method is becoming increasingly streamlined. This is perhaps the earliest of his pictures which really feels like it was planned shot by shot before a single camera rolled. Of particular note is Hitch's staging of drama through reaction shots rather than expository dialogue. For example, Oskar Homolka's reaction to Stevie talking about gangsters, or pair of close-ups after John Loder is pulled through the air vent that tells us one of the gang members has recognised him. There are a few pointless technical touches, such as Homolka's vision of London in the fish tank glass, or Stevie's face popping up among the crowd of boys, but these are not as distracting as they could be in Hitch's earliest pictures.

Hitchcock rarely gave his actors any coaching, and relied upon a good professional cast to deliver the goods. In Sylvia Sydney and Oskar Homolka he has two of the best leads he had worked with so far, and their restrained naturalistic performances make their climactic scene together incredibly effective. The supporting cast are not bad either, although as usual with Hitchcock the comedy characters are the real standouts. Little-known stage veteran William Dewhurst, who plays the "professor", is a joy to watch, and it almost looks as if his scenes are about to turn into Monty Python sketches.

Much as I detest the phrase "experimental film", this was truly an experimental era for Hitchcock, or at least one in which his pictures were going through a process of natural selection. He realised afterwards he had made a huge mistake in one aspect of the main suspense sequence on the bus – I won't reveal it here as it's a major spoiler – and would ensure he never repeated the error. In spite of what was for him an embarrassing flaw, Sabotage is a very enjoyable and effective thriller, not among the greatest of his British period, but certainly worth watching.

Sabotage clearly isn't Hitchcock's finest hour; but even though this is a 'lesser' Hitchcock film, the director still manages to inject the film with many of his trademarks that would go on to make classics out of films such as Psycho and North by Northwest. Hitchcock makes centrepieces out of several scenes; the best of which include a cross-fade with an aquarium and a London street, the striking opening sequence that sees London go dark; of course, the infamous scene on a bus - and my personal favourite and the crux of the film - the climatic scene that sees saboteur Karl Verloc (played to perfection by Oskar Homolka) try to pass the blame for his actions on to the Scotland Yard inspective who rumbled him. The plot sees cinema owner, the aforementioned Karl Verloc, get himself involved with terrorists. He manages the cinema along with his wife and her brother, and neither of them knows what's going on. The only third party who does know is Sgt. Ted Spencer; the Scotland Yard inspector employed to work a vegetable stall next door as a cover to investigate Mr Verloc.

This film is most famous for the sequence that sees young Desmond Tester carry a bomb onto a packed London bus. Audiences at the time were outraged by the climax to this scene; but I was impressed with it. By having the story run the way it should, Hitchcock showed early on the sort of flair that would ensure Psycho a place on 'best film' lists forty five years after its release. Hitchcock shows a willingness to take a risk, and while it may not have done him much good at the time - it's that sort of mentality that made him one of cinema's greats. As you'd expect, Hitchcock makes best use of the latest cinema techniques available at the time, but also harks back to the silent classics with several shots made to look like storyboards. It's obvious why Joseph Conrad's novel appealed to the great director, as the story itself is packed with suspense and Hitchcock always makes the best of it. The build up to the finale of the bus scene is beautifully serene, yet so daunting at the same time. On the whole; Sabotage represents a good example of early Hitchcock and comes highly recommended to his many fans.