Alfred Hitchcock’s innovative and seminal contributions to cinema are visible all through his films, as evidenced by the fact that his name is associated with at least one zoom technique. The murder sequence in Sabotage is a clear example of this creativity. This segment of the film, which could be merely sensational, nonetheless reveals several profound characteristics of the relationship between Sylvia and her husband Verloc, and with her dead brother.
Hitchcock accomplishes this using a simple vocabulary of shots and angles, a few crucial sound effects, and no special effects. In addition to masterful acting by the protagonists, Hitchcock uses the objects in the scene almost as characters. To allow the actors to communicate the maximum content with the least amount of dialogue and overt violence, Hitchcock targets his application of the modest range of shot types in this section of the film.
At the outset of this sequence, Hitchcock uses an element in the environment; Disney cartoon; to demonstrate that, in spite of her apparent equanimity, Sylvia is catastrophically devastated by her brother’s death. On the movie screen, the innocent and charming Cock Robin bird, shot dead senselessly by an unidentified assailant, comes all too close to her brother’s death by explosion through no fault of his own. She telegraphs her inner distress as her facial expression collapses.
If she had simply broken down and cried, it would not have led the audience along with her. The audience is led with her to her own realization of her loss and her growing uncertainties about her husband.
Another element of the environment, the dinner set up with cutlery by the cook, serves to signal Sylvia’s increasing distress with her husband and recent events.
Verloc’s complete obliviousness to the effect of Stevie’s murder is signaled by his interaction with the table setting. He demonstrates his unconcern over her loss through his self-centered attention to fiddling with the covered dishes. He samples the food and complains about the greens; reminding both of them of Stevie’s death by suggesting that fresh greens be sent for. This task was allocated to Stevie in life, and the camera shot on the chair draws the viewer’s attention to his absence.
Near the end of the segment, Hitchcock assigns to another element in the mise-en-scene a crucial part. The caged birds chirp and hop with apparent unconcern. They remain bonded in a way that Sylvia and Verloc are no more, and perhaps never were.
Hitchcock uses a relatively restrained repertoire of shots to telegraph the interior processes of his characters. Hitchcock focuses the camera closely on the knife, and then her face, and then shows us how disturbing Sylvia’s own thoughts are to her by drawing the focus back into a more distant shot, to let us see her push the knife away from her in horror. We see the train of thoughts as clearly as if she had mused on murder aloud.
Verloc’s gaze, captured in close-up, fixes on the same cutlery, and his expression almost makes the viewer forget that the cutlery itself is not what can kill, but the bereaved and betrayed sister. When she takes up the knife too swiftly for him to get it, Sylvia has taken yet another step in her journey of preparing herself to avenge her brother. Thus, when, close to the end of this clip, after Sylvia has, apparently without completely intending to at that moment, plunged the knife into Verloc’s innards, we are not entirely surprised.
The segment is also characterized by a paucity of notable sounds. After Sylvia is out of range of the theatre, there is near silence. Hitchcock combines the few sounds he does use with careful camera use to further emphasize the internal thought processes of the characters. The viewer hears Verloc’s petulant and critical complaints, the clatter of cutlery as Sylvia thrusts it from her, the creaking of shoes and the expostulations of both Verloc and his wife as he comes to grips with her.
However, the camera cuts between Sylvia’s face, Verloc’s face, and the knife to draw the eye first to the knife cutting meat, then impaling the potato, then pushed away with a rare burst of sound, then, finally, Sylvia’s hands. Hitchcock gives the viewer Verloc’s point of view at this point, focusing on her folded hands, her wedding ring prominently visible right across the table from him.
As the viewer sees realization of his risk of reprisal dawning on Verloc, the camera follows him as he rises and circles the table. This demonstrates the deliberateness of Hitchcock’s austere choices elsewhere in this segment. Verloc’s murder is up close, but his death is shot from a greater distance, allowing us to infer Sylvia’s almost immediate abandonment of resuscitation. The bizarre floor-level final angle reprises Verloc’s point of view.
Hitchcock’s use of mise-en-scene and sparing use of special angles, shots, and sound all work together. They help us to understand Sylvia’s gradual approach to her murder of her husband.