An Alfred Hitchcock film is still, happily, something of an event; and it is a pleasure to report that the ill effects of "Suspicion" have vanished from the master's mind. Not that "Saboteur" is his best offering, but he has come back into his own again, back to the chase and all its whirls. The result is a tense two hours of entertainment dealt out with a freshness of approach and a relish of taste unusual in recent screen offerings.

The Hitchcock formula is fairly well known by now, and "Saboteur" rarely departs from the established norm. In fact, there are several repeat patterns from former Hitchcock triumphs, notably "The Thirty-Nine Steps," as evidenced in the handcuff scene, the dive from the bridge, and the escape up the rapids. This time the story is set in America. An aircraft factory in Los Angeles is sabotaged; Barry Keane, one of the workers, is accused of setting the fire. He runs away from the police and trails the real saboteur across the country, till the chase comes to a feverish end at the citadel of American freedom on Bedloe's Island in New York Harbor.

There is no single scene to equal that of the death of the Dutch diplomat in "Foreign Correspondent," but there are many episodes with genuine genius behind them. Characterization is the forte of this film; no other Hitchcock picture has had such well-drawn dramatis personae. Of course, the hero and heroine are fairly one-dimensional; Robert Cummings is allowed to swagger a bit as Barry Keane, but Priscilla Lane, although skillfully directed to cover up her deficiencies, is bad. The emphasis of the picture rests on the fifth columnists; a trio of them, Otto Kruger, Alan Baxter, and especially Norman Lloyd in the title role, contribute splendid portrayals. There is an effective and quite symbolic scene among circus freaks and a kindly portrayal of a blind man by Vaughan Glazer. But it is Mr. Hitchcock's picture: he dominates every foot of it with his unmatched technique in building up antithesis and conflict, and taking you out of your chair as the chase quickens. You may find it a trifle long, but it is timely and taut, just the thing for those post-divisional blues: