Saboteur (1942)

We’ve had just tremendous luck with the anniversary double-features at our family-owned chain. It kicked off with 12 Angry Men and Witness for the Prosecution, and followed up with the Bette Davis double-feature (Marked Woman and Now, Voyager) and in June it was two lesser known Hitchcock films: Saboteur and Frenzy. Considered lesser Hitchcock films, I was eager to see Saboteur because, well, I hadn’t, though I tempered the kids’ expectations as I felt was appropriate.

And neither of these guys became icons.
It’s a lot of pressure: A lot to live up to.

Honestly, though, we all loved this film: Made during WWII, it’s so American you want to stand up and salute. Based on a story by  Hitch himself, the screenplay was written by Dorothy Parker (!), Joan Harrison (Hitch’s English secretary who came with him to Hollywood and ended up a writer at MGM and a producer at Universal) and Peter Viertel (who worked on African Queen and later wrote the novel White Hunter, Black Heart—also he was married to Deborah Kerr for nearly 50 years, until her death, and he died within weeks of her).

Anyway, the story is this: Barry (Robert Cummings, Dial M for MurderThe Devil and Miss Jones) is an average Joe, helping the war effort by working in a defense plant in L.A. (we had those until the ’90s!) when he stumbles across a letter to a guy named “Fry” (a sprightly 28-year-old Norman Lloyd), whom he and his pal locate but who doesn’t seem to be at all pleased by being found.

Before you know it, there’s a fire at the plant, and Barry’s pal perishes in it when someone gives him an extinguisher full of gasoline! He figures it was that guy Fry, but nobody can find any such person at work in the company, and the experts realize it’s sabotage! Wait, that’s a different Hitch movie. The experts realize Barry must be the Saboteur!

(No, it's not.)
This is why smokers have to go outside today.

Barry takes it on the lam because one thing he knows: If he musses around with the authorities, they’ll just foul things up until the real saboteur gets away—and maybe other good Joes like his pal will end up getting hurt. The beauty of this storyline is that almost everyone immediately figures out that Barry is a stand-up guy who’s genuinely going to find the real saboteur. You can tell just by talking to the guy he’s on the up-and-up.

There’s an implicit (and actually rather explicit) idea here that the authorities are incompetent, bless their hearts. Individuals working together can make a change the dunderheads in charge would completely miss. As I said, very American—and presumably British as well, given it’s Hitchcock, and he would revisit these themes constantly, as a sort of subhed to the “wrongfully accused” trope that was kind of his bread-and-butter.

But apart from the little guy, all the circus freaks love Barry. And apart from Pat (Priscilla Lane, Four Daughters, Four Wives, Four Mothers) pretty much all the normies know he’s on the up-and-up, too. Since Pat is his love interest, we gotta have a little tensions, y’know? Anyway, the plot gets thicker and thicker, and fills with tropes we would see Hitch use again in the classic North by Northwest. But the funny thing was that the kids (and even I) were unwilling to proclaim this as a lesser film. It’s much more pro-America, and while Robert Cummings was no Cary Grant, he was still Robert Cummings, and that ain’t nothin’.

NOTHING, I SAID!
Pictured: A scene absolutely NOTHING like the Mount Rushmore scene in North by Northwest.

There is a particularly charming scene at the beginning of the second act where the Bearded Lady makes a plea for Barry based on Pat’s willingness to stick by him—said willingness being not entirely voluntary, in fact—and Pat being so ashamed for not recognizing Barry’s innate goodness that she immediately supports him and, naturally, falls in love. (Said tension well set up before, of course, but resolved quited neatly in a single scene, as Hitch was wont to do.)

Climactic scene at the Statue of Liberty. Auction in a room full of well-connected and probably evil people. Battleship sabotage. Worlds longest paper-airplane/help note.

Good score by Frank Skinner, whose work is mostly known these days as “stock music used in crappy B-movie”.

Sandwiched between Suspicions and Shadow of a Doubt and considered distinctly “middle of the pack” Hitch. Which, as I told the kids, is still pretty damn good. They actually not only liked it, they enjoyed it more than Vertigo, which we would see a few weeks later.

Subtle!
Literally EVERYONE knows he’s innocent, except the love interest, and the tiny person in the circus everyone calls The Fascist.

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