La maison de la 92e rue

I'm glad one of my favorite movies The House on 92nd Street has been released on DVD and to read the reactions others have made about it. I first saw this movie when it was first released and I was about 11 years old. It made a great impression on me at the time. Of course it is much older now and so am I. My reaction to the revelation of the identity of Mr. Christopher came as an almost physical shock. I should add that at the time this movie came out the war had just ended and the bomb had been dropped only months before, and the radio made much of the nuclear race between Germany and the United States, so the 'now it can be told' aspect of the movie had a lot more meaning then. Also, we weren't very ambivalent about who the good guys and the bad guys were in the war (that didn't happen until Vietnam). I can see that the technology that seemed so cutting edge then is simplistic and dated by today's standards, but that doesn't hurt the movie if you take it in the context of its time. One comment I'd like to make: when Elsa first saw Dietrich's altered credentials she was rightly suspicious and sent for confirmation by courier from Hamburg. In the meantime he continued to operate for what seemed like months and the war started. How long did to get that confirmation anyway? By the way, I've seen the House and it was on 93rd street.

"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.

Henry Hathaway directed this spy film presented in semi-documentary fashion starring Lloyd Nolan as FBI Inspector George Briggs, who is in charge of the counter-terrorist division that recruits German-speaking William Dietrich(played by William Eythe) to infiltrate a cell of German spies sent to America to gather information on the construction of the atomic bomb. The FBI allows its 92nd. street headquarters to remain open in order to identify its highest-level operatives, which involve a Mr. Christopher, though Dietrich's main contact is a woman(played by Signe Hasso) How long before he can identify his targets, or end up identified himself? Fine film effectively uses the semi-documentary approach, with Lloyd Nolan the standout, and would reprise the role in semi-sequel "The Street With No Name".

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.

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.