La casa de la calle 92

It really IS a classic of the genre, but the problem is that the genre itself is so dated as not to be taken seriously anymore. That happens to genres. Would you watch a Western in which the good guy wears a white hat and the bad guy wears a black hat and one "calls the other out" and they have a mano-a-mano shootout in the middle of the dusty street and the good guy wins and gets the girl? I mean, that's asking a lot of a modern audience.

This film was one of a series of semi-documentaries that came out with the end of the war. Often, as here, Henry Hathaway was the director and the stentorian baritone Reed Hadley was the narrator. I can't vouch for the historical accuracy of the plot, although regardless of the facts I'm sure J. Edgar Hoover was tickled pink when he saw it. Hoover, President-for-Life of the FBI, was a media savvy character. Early in his career he had a skilled partner in Melvin Purvis, the guy who tracked down Dillinger. Such rivalry was not to be tolerated. Purvis's part in the affair, in fact his whole persona, was purged like Akhenaten's until Hoover became the hero. Purvis quit in disgust. Hoover refused to cooperate with Warner's "G-Men" because Jimmy Cagney patronized a saloon, but he gave the FBI's all to this film because the FBI was morally upright and flawless.

One scene was of particular interest. A real Nazi spy insists on testing the American counterspy's radio set to see if it can actually reach Hamburg. It doesn't. It transmits directly to a nearby FBI station which then relays the information to Germany, in a slightly altered form. The FBI operator hears the Nazi calling. He looks up and says, "That isn't Bill. I know his fist." A "fist" is the particular style that an individual operator uses in sending Morse code. It's about as distinctive as his handwriting. I was a radio operator for a few years in the Coast Guard and had a great fist. Most of the other men at my station set their keys to automatic "fast" so they could sound hot. Only they overreached and wound up sounding jagged and making a lot of errors. I set mine to "slow" and developed a fist that was easy to read and pleasing to listen to in its rhythmic splendor. Two radiomen from a ship visited the station in dress blues one afternoon and asked who "LL" was -- my sign-off letters. They came over to my console and one said, "We just wanted to tell you that it's a pleasure to copy you." The two men shook my hand, the three of us blushed, and they made a hurried exit, because real men don't say things like that to one another.

I dislike boasts but there are so few things I do well. Oh, yes, the movie. Alas,the conventions of the genre demand that the Nazis be evil in every respect. Worse than that, they're rude. When the American counterspy is introduced to them, they don't even greet him, they just scowl. None of them is in love, none of them has a home, none has a dog or a cat or collects stamps. They sacrifice one another for the cause at the drop of a solecism and -- well, you get the picture. Compare the Nazi spies in Hitchcock's "Notorious."

The conventions doom the characters as human beings. Loyd Nolan and Signe Hasso are the most watchable, but all of the performances are colorless. Even the hero is dull, despite the danger he often finds himself in.

It's still an interesting and exciting flick, once you adapt to its weaknesses. Fascinating to see the way in which two-way mirrors are presented as the high-tech novelty they were at the time. And the pre-computer FBI's fingerprint storage -- "Five THOUSAND fingerprints on file!", Hadley announces proudly.

It's worth catching if it is convenient.

The House on 92nd Street (1945)

Henry Hathaway has directed some great film noirs (Kiss of Death is indisputably great), but he also didn't mind the dull assignment here and there, as in the competent Call Northside 777 and this one, both revealing American crime detection in action. Yes, this is actually well made, but it has a documentary feel that leaves it in a straitjacket as good crime drama. It's strong stuff, and filled with significance, real Nazi activities on U.S. soil leading to the a-bomb. But you'll see, as soon as the familiar narrator starts to explain the events, that it's a formulaic approach.

To some extent, you can't really watch this without noticing it feels, from the next century (2010 as I write) like propaganda. Not that it isn't honest, it just is filled with uncritical pride. The FBI in particular comes across as flawless and brilliant, and I'm sure it often was, but not quite without complications, nuances, and personal quirks that make the best fiction films take off. This one was made just as World War II was over in Europe, and there was nothing but patriotism in the air, naturally.

I actually like Leo G. Carroll a lot, and he holds up his scenes well, and Swedish actress Signe Hasso is a surprise, strong and sharp (wait until she takes her wig off and transforms in ten seconds). Much of the movie, especially after the first half hour with all its narration and actual documentary footage, has the feel of any well constructed drama and those are the parts, for me, to hook into. Besides, there is a quality here that's really pretty fun--a glimpse into the attitude of 1945 America that isn't the usual brazen, lonely, taut film noir response. Fiction makes for better movie-going, in this case, but here is a watchable quasi-documentary that holds up pretty well, off and on, if you keep expectations in check.

This is the story of how the FBI supposedly cracked a Nazi espionage ring on the trail of Manhattan Project (the A-Bomb) in the early years of World War II. As a movie, its chief significance is that it kicked off a spate of semi-documentary movies paying tribute to one or another of the U.S. government's law enforcement agencies and celebrating Our Tax Dollars at Work. Such films became a staple of the noir cycle; a few of them even achieved distinction (T-Men, for instance).

William Eythe, a young American, is recruited by and trained in Germany to be a spy; in fact he works as a double agent for the FBI. The film, shot largely on location, traces the actions of the nest of vipers on New York's upper east side. Their unofficial master seems to be Signe Hasso, under cover of running a chic dress boutique. Her opposite number, who runs Eythe, is Lloyd Nolan (who was to reprise his role as Inspector Briggs in subsequent films).

The film's period flavor keeps it from seeming too dated, because the spying looks quite primitive to audiences spoiled by James Bond gimmickry and later, even more sophisticated, espionage thrillers. And, from a modern perspective, the smug boastfulness about the Bureau's -- and America's -- infallibility becomes a bit hard to swallow. There's little texture or nuance in the film, but, as a quasi-historical document, it exerts its own fascination.

"The House on 92nd Street" is a 1945 film about the FBI's attempts to break up a spy ring during the war. A young man, William Dietrich (William Eythe), who has been recruited by the Nazis as a spy, informs the FBI of this and becomes their mole inside the organization. One of Dietrich's goals is to get the identity of the mysterious "Mr. Christopher" who gives all of the orders.

This is a black and white film with strong narration that probably had a great impact at the time of its release. Though the machinery used in the movie looks archaic now, back then it must have been fascinating for an audience to watch and seemed very high-tech. Plus some of the material being transmitted had to do with the top-secret atom bomb, which at the time of the film, had just been dropped.

The cast is small, consisting of Eythe, Lloyd Nolan, Leo G. Carroll, Signe Hasso, Gene Lockhart, and Lydia St. Clair. They're all solid. For a change, the women, Hasso and St. Clair, have the strongest roles in the film, and they give striking performances. Eythe was getting the big star build-up at 20th Century Fox. Since it was wartime, he could have made a place for himself at the studio the way that Dana Andrews did. However, when gay rumors reached Darryl Zanuck, Eythe's path became a rocky one, leading nowhere, as the studio continually demoted him and eventually got rid of him.

Well worth seeing.

This semi documentary film, shows the FBI at work in those early days of the European conflict. Henry Hathaway, the director, focus on the work behind the scenes of a group of German spies, operating in New York and how the FBI is able to infiltrate the group.

The film, as seen today, still holds the viewer's attention, although the technology is obsolete by today standards. We are given a suspenseful story about the group that established the base of operations in the house on 92nd Street and Madison Avenue in the Manhattan of the 40s. The crisp black and white cinematography by Norbert Brodine still looks pristine and sharp.

The cast headed by Lloyd Nolan as Briggs, do a good job under Mr. Hathaway's direction. Best of all is Signe Hasso as Elsa Gebhart, the designing woman with a lot of secrets. Leo G. Carroll is also seen as one of the spies. Gene Lockhart also has a minor role.

It was fun to watch uncredited New York based actors in the background such as E.G. Marshall, Vincent Gardenia, Paul Ford, among others making small contributions to the film.