By the time had started production on Saboteur, Alfred Hitchcock had already become something of an established filmmaker. He wasn’t the extraordinarily popular director known as The Master of Suspense who could make essentially any film he wanted due to his reputation as one of the great maestros of his craft, but he did have a certain degree of respectability, which helped fuel many of the more abstract works he endeavoured to make in the early 1940s, which would eventually become the foundation for his later career, in which he became the highly recognizable cinematic legend we know to this day. Saboteur is one of his most peculiar films, which comes as something of a surprise, since it seems relatively conventional, albeit only in theory. The story of an ordinary serviceman who is accused of sabotage, and has to go on a cross-country journey to prove his innocence by finding the true culprit using only paltry information, is an intriguing one, and quintessentially Hitchcockian in both style and substance. It is quite possibly the first work in which the director was able to tackle these themes without too many restrictions, and as a result, he and screenwriters Peter Viertel and Joan Harrison (with some contributions by the iconic Dorothy Parker), concoct a delightfully devilish film that has become a masterpiece of the spy thriller genre, inspiring countless works, including some of the director’s later productions, which were made possible by the unsettling but brilliant concepts being explored throughout this film, which stands as one of Hitchcock’s most unexpectedly profound works.

One of the more fascinating aspects of exploring a career as rich and lengthy as that of Hitchcock’s is the inevitable comparisons between works – there are many techniques and iconic ideas that define his later works that can be found in his earlier films, proving that many of his more memorable concepts have their roots in the work he did towards the start of his career. Many have drawn parallels – both visually and conceptually – between North by Northwest and Saboteur, especially in the story being told, and the techniques involved in their creation. Narratively, both films centre on an innocent individual who considers himself an upstanding member of society being accused of a massive crime that he most certainly did not commit, and forced to retreat across the country while being chased by a sinister organization that seems to be lurking in the shadows. In many ways, this film feels like a dress rehearsal for North by Northwest, with many of the same ideas occurring at the heart of the story, and even has overtures of The Wrong Man in terms of its story centring on someone being falsely accused and risking a life in prison (if not worse). However, this doesn’t mean this is the only lens through which we should assess Saboteur and its merits as a film of its own – there are so many interesting details here that were unique to this story, which sees Hitchcock creating a wartime picaresque narrative that sees an innocent man moving between different locations, solely to find a way to escape being sent away forever, and finding peculiarities that underpin every part of society, turning Saboteur into something of a parable.

Another element of Saboteur that might take some viewers by surprise is the lack of major stars – even by this point in his career, Hitchcock was able to get some more notable names to lead his films, usually more famous actors who were known to be able to bring in audiences just on name recognition alone. Robert Cummings was not obscure, but he paled in comparison to the film’s original choice, Gary Cooper (who was mercifully not cast, as one would assume his more overwrought style of dramatic acting would not have been a good fit for this film), as was Priscilla Lane, who replaced Barbara Stanwyck. However, this is not a hindrance to the film at all – in fact, it is a glowing merit, since now we have two perfectly capable, but slightly less popular, actors at the forefront, which shifts our attention less to their presence, and more to the story being told. They’re terrific leads and play into the complex heroism of the characters quite well. However, they’re not the ones we remember the most – Saboteur is known for its sprawling supporting cast, which is constructed out of many familiar character actors, most of whom only appear for a single scene, but leave a lasting impression. The film is a thinly-veiled tapestry of American society on both sides of the morality spectrum, and Hitchcock makes use of actors like Otto Kruger, Vaughan Glazer, Pedro de Cordoba and Norman Lloyd (who is perhaps the most substantial of the supporting cast) to bring these characters to life, and in the process constructs one of the most compelling ensemble-based films of the era. Considering how much of this film is spent exploring the fickle distinction between heroism and villainy, it only makes sense that the story would consist of a wide range of distinct characters that blur the boundaries, much more than a lot of the director’s later works, which would be more focused on only one or two perspectives, with every other character being disposable, which is the complete opposite of this film, in which those who appear on the periphery make the most substantial impact.

Yet, as much as we are tempted to dig deep into the heart of this film, Saboteur is an extremely simple work of genre fiction and a film that works best when we view it through the lens of the category into which it was aiming to fit. The spy thriller is a genre that has been wildly successful over time, but was most effective during the years surrounding the Second World War – suddenly, the paranoia and suspicion that come about organically in challenging times seemed a lot more legitimate, with filmmakers like Hitchcock effectively managing to capitalize on this sensation through a range of compelling films that spoke to the inherent neuroses of the global population, filtering them into a strange but exciting film that were as exhilarating as they were provocative. Saboteur takes a very simple approach, using quite a straightforward story where the main events occur at the start and end, and the middle portions are spent drifting between different locations and encountering a range of unique individuals that contribute to the story – structurally, the film is extraordinarily compelling, with the refusal to stay in one place for too long being one of the primary reasons it feels so exciting. It’s a spy drama structured as an adventure film, which pulls the viewer into the heart of the story and gives us the chance to experience these exhilarating, tense moments with the protagonists. This is made even more fascinating considering how this film was made around the same time that the United States entered into the Second World War, which adds layers of historical context to what is already a very well-constructed piece of cinema that feels well-rounded and compelling, even when it veers towards the absurd.

It seems inappropriate to refer to Hitchcock as a master of his craft since it is essentially just stating the obvious facts and something very few people would ever deny. However, when we look at his work from a more objective perspective, we can easily understand why he is so celebrated. Even a work as relatively minor as Saboteur is brimming with artistic integrity, drawn from the director’s fascination with both the current affairs of the day, and his forthright commitment to telling stories that were as exciting as they were thought-provoking. There’s a certain amount of complexity that keeps the film from being too formulaic, and the transient nature of the story prevents it from being entirely stagnant, choosing to have a kind of narrative fluidity that would be revolutionary even by modern standards. However, the most interesting aspect of Saboteur simply comes from the experience of seeing how Hitchcock developed as a filmmaker – he was still establishing his voice as an auteur around this point, and logically wasn’t given the carte blanche he would eventually be able to demand – but this doesn’t mean that this film is any less of a staggering achievement, with the precise storytelling, razor-sharp wit and fascinating visual compositions making for an extraordinarily complex and invigorating spy drama, one that feels so much more genuine when delivered by someone with as fascinating a vision as Hitchcock, who rarely did anything that was not worth the time of his audience, who would undoubtedly be thrilled and entertained by the world being constructed throughout this film.