“Secret Agent” (1936)
Having just hit his stride with “The Man Who Knew Too Much” and “The 39 Steps,” 1936’s “Secret Agent” saw Hitch back in similar territory, with the director taking on W. Somerset Maugham‘s popular character Ashenden, a writer-turned-spy, here played by the great John Gielgud. Somehow, it’s not as well-regarded as its predecessors among the cinerati, but it’s rather a terrific little film in many ways. Gielgud (who hated the film, and never worked with the director again) plays Ashenden, a writer and solider who fakes his death in the midst of the First World War in order to prevent a German agent from reaching Turkey and allying with local forces. He teams up with charming killer The General (Peter Lorre), and Elsa (Madeleine Carroll), a fellow agent doubling as his wife, in what is a much more serious look at the espionage genre than its two predecessors, examining the cost of being a spy a good 70 years before Bourne and co. did the same. And this does mean that it’s slightly lacking the spark of the ones that came before. But it’s taut, and thrilling, and with Lorre and Carroll, has a supporting team that a “Mission: Impossible” movie would be proud of. Holding up surprisingly well, it’s one of the films on the director’s CV that deserves serious reconsideration. [B+]
“Sabotage” (1936)
A rather different, and somewhat less successful (though far from uninteresting) take on the spy flick than the same year’s “Secret Agent,” “Sabotage” is, confusingly, an adaptation of the Joseph Conrad novel “The Secret Agent,” and unrelated to the later, and superior “Saboteur.” It focuses on a London cinema owner, Karl Verloc (Oscar Homolka), who’s actually an agent for an Eastern European terrorist cell (stripped of the anarchist leanings of the novel, and therefore of much of the political subtext). In order to nab him, Sergeant Ted Spencer (John Loder, replacing an unavailable Robert Donat) goes undercover as a greengrocer, only to be drawn to Verloc’s young and unknowing wife (Sylvia Sidney). Hitchcock himself was derisive of the film, later complaining to Francois Truffaut that he felt the key bomb sequence (in which Sidney’s younger brother is blown up on a bus carrying explosives for Verloc) broke his key rule of suspense; that the threat was always more thrilling than the consequences. And it’s hard not to feel that the film’s a little compromised, from its derivations from the source material (though Christopher Hampton‘s 1996 remake, under the novel’s title, isn’t much better), to the casting, with none of the actors truly making an impression. That said, there’s an intriguing ambiguity to the picture, with Homolka making a curiously sympathetic mad bomber, and despite Hitchcock’s views, the bomb sequence is surprising, shocking and powerful. A disappointment, certainly, but not one without its pleasures. [C+]
Hitchcock Cameo: Nine minutes in, walking down the pavement as kiosk shutters come down.
“Young And Innocent” (1937)
Released in America as “The Girl Was Young,” this mystery stars 18-year-old Nova Pilbeam as the titular woman, Erica Burgoyne, who is naively swept into helping an innocent man, Robert Tisdall (Derrick de Marney), prove he wasn’t responsible for the death of his famous actress lover. “Young and Innocent” doesn’t quite rank with Hitchcock’s best British films, but it’s an entertaining picture that already features many of Hitchcock’s hallmarks, including a tale around the wrongfully accused, a blond beauty, an impressive pan across a crowded room and a sprinkling of humor to lighten the proceedings. Since most of the film is told from Erica’s perspective, we’d have loved to have seen a bit more doubt cast on Robert’s innocence throughout the film, but this wasn’t meant to be “Suspicion,” and instead the film relies on her naiveté to drive their interactions. We’d be remiss in not mentioning that the final scene of this film (and its American artwork) features actors in blackface, but allowing the initial shock for modern audiences to distract from the climax means that you’d miss some masterful camerawork throughout the scene. [B]
Hitchcock Cameo: Sixteen minutes in, outside the courtroom with the camera
“The Lady Vanishes” (1938)
This train-set film reveals a few tropes Hitchcock would return to time and again: a single setting, a racing plot, a light touch with tone, and a sophisticated play on perspective that never gives anything away and keeps the surprises coming left and right. Michael Redgrave and Margaret Lockwood play an unlikely couple who meetcute in a mountainside inn in the remote country of Bandrika, before embarking on a train journey back home that is quickly sent off the rails with the disappearance of sweet governess Miss Froy. The dashing duo set off on a wild-goose chase that reveals a plot of international espionage, all the while contending with their fellow travelers, a motley crew of wacky characters who throw up obstacles at every front. Hitch allows every one a full characterization and time to riff, while also keeping the story moving along, right up to the final shootout that caps everything off. It’s a fun little mystery that feels fresh and modern today, and a unique story that could only have been pulled off with such panache and flair by the master himself. [A-]
Hitchcock Cameo: Smoking a cigarette at Victoria Station at 1:32:31