The House on 92nd Street

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".

Where in the world did they find hawk-nosed, beady-eyed Lydia St. Clair, the German Gestapo agent. One look from her, and I'd spill my guts in a flash. This is her only movie credit, so I'm guessing she had the same effect on the producers. Speaking of producers, Louis De Rochemont and TCF led the docu-drama trend that greatly influenced post-war crime drama. This is an early entry, and as a model of craftsmanship, there's none better, at least in my view. The location photography, FBI footage, and voice-over narration combine seamlessly with the melodramatic elements supposedly based on fact. Credit much of this to director Hathaway, one of Hollywood's supreme craftsmen.

Sure, the movie sometimes plays like an advertisement for the FBI. But if the data cited is correct, they had a lot to brag about in terms of counter-espionage. Notice, however, no mention is made of the thousands of Japanese-American citizens illegally interned on the West Coast. The Mr. Cristopher charade may be a gimmick, but it does build suspense as we guess the whereabouts of the mastermind. And when the "unveiling" finally comes, I suspect a few 1945 audiences were mildly startled. Seems a stretch to call this a noir since the lighting and atmosphere are naturalistic throughout. Anyway, as a blend of documentary style with story interest, it's hard to beat this tautly efficient little thriller.

In passing—check out the movie's initial release date, barely a month after the first public disclosure of the A-bomb following Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Looks to me like this required some furious re-writing and maybe some changes in Lockhart's role of research professor. No doubt inclusion of the new weapon was used to sell the film to information hungry audiences.

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.

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.

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.